.... for the sunflowers to be replaced by the mums.
Yay!!
*******
see more at Beth's
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Sunday, September 25, 2011
where I'm from
I am from women who are not afraid to be strong, and men who know it's okay to cry sometimes.
I am from sitting a tree to watch the farmer plow the corn field behind our house.
I am from sand dunes and lakefronts and woods.
I am from swing sets and monkey bars and bikes with pedal brakes and banana seats.
I am from laughing with cousins for hours about nothing in particular.
I am from sitting outside and reading, and books and books and books.
I'm from Superfudge and Are You There God, It's Me Margaret and Charlotte's Web and A Summer to Die.
I'm from Sesame Street and The Muppet Show, and oh my gosh everything I learned from them both.
I am from baking cookies with Grandma, and baking cookies for Grandma (and everyone else, too).
I am from toast with butter and honey, and peanut butter and jelly every day in my lunch box.
I am from Kool-Aid and chocolate milk to hot chocolate and hot tea.
I am from running ten miles before breakfast and another ten before dinner. From intervals and hills and track and stride on.
I am from a best friend you can call at three in the morning, even if you can't really explain why you needed to call in the first place.
I am from the altar to the meditation cushion, the rosary to the mala, hallelujah and hare krishna.
I am from the truth of Henry, the path of George, the light of Bono and Stipe, who all showed me that I can be an active participant, I can do something.
I am from working hard and doing your best (even if no one is watching).
I am from knowing when it's right and not wasting time if it's not.
I am from finding love when I wasn't even looking.
I am from wanting to see people I love smile.
I am from saying what you mean and meaning what you say.
I am from not walking away when it gets tough, but knowing when it's time to walk away.
I am here, now.
I am from sitting a tree to watch the farmer plow the corn field behind our house.
I am from sand dunes and lakefronts and woods.
I am from swing sets and monkey bars and bikes with pedal brakes and banana seats.
I am from laughing with cousins for hours about nothing in particular.
I am from sitting outside and reading, and books and books and books.
I'm from Superfudge and Are You There God, It's Me Margaret and Charlotte's Web and A Summer to Die.
I'm from Sesame Street and The Muppet Show, and oh my gosh everything I learned from them both.
I am from baking cookies with Grandma, and baking cookies for Grandma (and everyone else, too).
I am from toast with butter and honey, and peanut butter and jelly every day in my lunch box.
I am from Kool-Aid and chocolate milk to hot chocolate and hot tea.
I am from running ten miles before breakfast and another ten before dinner. From intervals and hills and track and stride on.
I am from a best friend you can call at three in the morning, even if you can't really explain why you needed to call in the first place.
I am from the altar to the meditation cushion, the rosary to the mala, hallelujah and hare krishna.
I am from the truth of Henry, the path of George, the light of Bono and Stipe, who all showed me that I can be an active participant, I can do something.
I am from working hard and doing your best (even if no one is watching).
I am from knowing when it's right and not wasting time if it's not.
I am from finding love when I wasn't even looking.
I am from wanting to see people I love smile.
I am from saying what you mean and meaning what you say.
I am from not walking away when it gets tough, but knowing when it's time to walk away.
I am here, now.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
industrial strength
Some time ago, I saw a pair of acupuncture sandals in a catalog. And I fell in love with the idea.
Every time I leave the acupuncture clinic, I practically float out the door; I feel so relaxed, so calm. And I though, oh my gosh I bet acupuncture sandals could provide at least a glimpse of that feeling right in my very own home.
But they were expensive. So I looked longingly, but did not buy. And I've been lamenting (whining) about it ever since.
However, Hubby picked up the ball on this one. He found those sandals and ordered them and presented them to me with a grin on his face like he deserved a medal. Which he did. And I was so excited to put them on and walk around with these soft little trigger point activators gently massaging my feet.
Except that ohmygosh they hurt like hell. Those soft little trigger point activators feel like tiny daggers digging into the soles of my feet. These are some industrial strength sandals (or torture devices... whatever). And I stumbled around the house near tears for two hours (or two minutes... whatever) until I couldn't take any more.
Hubby did not believe that they could possible cause so much pain, so he tried them on, too. The did not hurt him, excepting one tiny little spot on his right heel.
Whatever.
(Oh yes, I will keep wearing them. Anything that hurts that bad has to be good for me. Or something like that. Right?)
********
see more at Beth's
Every time I leave the acupuncture clinic, I practically float out the door; I feel so relaxed, so calm. And I though, oh my gosh I bet acupuncture sandals could provide at least a glimpse of that feeling right in my very own home.
But they were expensive. So I looked longingly, but did not buy. And I've been lamenting (whining) about it ever since.
However, Hubby picked up the ball on this one. He found those sandals and ordered them and presented them to me with a grin on his face like he deserved a medal. Which he did. And I was so excited to put them on and walk around with these soft little trigger point activators gently massaging my feet.
Except that ohmygosh they hurt like hell. Those soft little trigger point activators feel like tiny daggers digging into the soles of my feet. These are some industrial strength sandals (or torture devices... whatever). And I stumbled around the house near tears for two hours (or two minutes... whatever) until I couldn't take any more.
Hubby did not believe that they could possible cause so much pain, so he tried them on, too. The did not hurt him, excepting one tiny little spot on his right heel.
Whatever.
(Oh yes, I will keep wearing them. Anything that hurts that bad has to be good for me. Or something like that. Right?)
********
see more at Beth's
coriander stem and rows of hay
Lyndsay was the one who told me. Somehow that is fitting.
REM decided to quit being a band.
And I just wanted to say that I really, truly wouldn't be Me if there was no REM. Not the Me that exists today. And I'm really glad, and eternally grateful, that they were there, so that I can be here.
REM decided to quit being a band.
And I just wanted to say that I really, truly wouldn't be Me if there was no REM. Not the Me that exists today. And I'm really glad, and eternally grateful, that they were there, so that I can be here.
Me, my thoughts are flower strewn
Ocean storm, bayberry moon
I have got to leave to find my way
Watch the road and memorize
This life that pass before my eyes
Berry, Buck, Mills, Stipe
Sunday, September 18, 2011
fall spotting
It started last weekend, really. Just a feeling. A little tingle that started in my toes and spread upward. I started packing away tank tops and fold-over cotton skirts and endless pairs of flip-flops. I was compelled to indulge in warm beverages involving the words "pumpkin spice." I really wanted to hear James Taylor sing about how the frost is on the pumpkin and the hay is in the barn.
Then this weekend...
Saturday morning's hike was full of little signs.
And the feeling spread from something inside of me to something visible and tangible.
The evening turned (even) cooler and Hubby (who is really not a warm beverage kind of person) thought that hot cocoa was a good idea. How could I argue with that?
And today, a cool, rainy day and a crock pot filled with vegetable soup.
Oh, Fall... I've missed you. I'm so glad you're back.
Then this weekend...
Saturday morning's hike was full of little signs.
And the feeling spread from something inside of me to something visible and tangible.
The evening turned (even) cooler and Hubby (who is really not a warm beverage kind of person) thought that hot cocoa was a good idea. How could I argue with that?
And today, a cool, rainy day and a crock pot filled with vegetable soup.
Oh, Fall... I've missed you. I'm so glad you're back.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
how about them apples....
My brain can get so cluttered with thoughts and feelings and emotions and things I want to say and things I can't say and thing I should say and things I might say and things I need to do and things I have to do and things I want to do and things I should do and places I need to be and places I want to be and places I have to be and places I should be and people I want to see and people I need to see and people I have to see and people I should see that sometimes it's all I can do to make sure that, on the outside, everything looks fine.
Because sometimes, on the inside, it can feel like one slight misstep or one too-deep breath will cause everything to topple.
So I step carefully. And I breathe carefully. And I keep moving forward. And maybe go to Starbucks for some cocoa.
*********
see more at Beth's
Because sometimes, on the inside, it can feel like one slight misstep or one too-deep breath will cause everything to topple.
So I step carefully. And I breathe carefully. And I keep moving forward. And maybe go to Starbucks for some cocoa.
*********
see more at Beth's
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
the flip side
Sure, there's the excitement of an as-yet-unopened crayon box and pencils waiting to be sharpened and choosing the just perfect new binder and decorating your locker and, of course, the new school clothes.
But there's also..
the dishes that will get washed eventually....
the dining room table that doesn't get cleared off because no one will be sitting there to eat... at least not in the foreseeable future...
the reading chair that sits lonely and abandoned (with the ottoman on top so the cat can't climb up and potentially snag the cushions)....
the clutter that just piles and piles and piles up because there is no time to un-pile it....
the laundry that is, miraculously, clean and folded, but will most likely sit there until it gets worn again, rather than be put away at all....
It must be back-to-school time.
Sigh...
********
see more at Beth's
But there's also..
the dishes that will get washed eventually....
the dining room table that doesn't get cleared off because no one will be sitting there to eat... at least not in the foreseeable future...
the reading chair that sits lonely and abandoned (with the ottoman on top so the cat can't climb up and potentially snag the cushions)....
the clutter that just piles and piles and piles up because there is no time to un-pile it....
the laundry that is, miraculously, clean and folded, but will most likely sit there until it gets worn again, rather than be put away at all....
It must be back-to-school time.
Sigh...
********
see more at Beth's
Monday, September 5, 2011
sometimes I remember
Sometimes I am able to remember, in the moment, all of the things I told myself I would remember next time.
Sometimes I remember to ease in to things.
Sometimes I remember to smile.
Sometimes I remember that the sun is shining and the breeze is blowing and I am breathing and I am alive right here, right now.
Sometimes I remember that I don't have to worry about the last mile marker. Or the next mile marker.
Sometimes I remember that it's okay to push a little harder.
Sometimes I remember that other people have no idea.
Sometimes I remember that I can forget about everything else for awhile.
Sometimes I remember that it is fun.
Sometimes I even remember to have fun.
Sometimes I remember to ease in to things.
Sometimes I remember to smile.
Sometimes I remember that the sun is shining and the breeze is blowing and I am breathing and I am alive right here, right now.
Sometimes I remember that I don't have to worry about the last mile marker. Or the next mile marker.
Sometimes I remember that it's okay to push a little harder.
Sometimes I remember that other people have no idea.
Sometimes I remember that I can forget about everything else for awhile.
Sometimes I remember that it is fun.
Sometimes I even remember to have fun.
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