A Rare Moment

I don't remember the last time my sister, brother, Mother and I posed for a photo together... it was literally years until this past September when we all gathered in Kansas City.

It's an interesting life phenomenon that events which usually bring people physically together are usually times of emotional stress, unlike the rare occurrence pictured here. No one died. No one was sick. The stress involved was getting four individual schedules to cooperate so we all occupied the same space at the same time.

It's sad, really, that living so often gets in the way of appreciating life and those we care about. At some point during each day I think I'll be better and act smarter and care more and prove that I do.

But at the end of the day when darkness closes in, the reality of follow-through hits hard. The only thing that was really addressed was more of the same.

To Much Technology

Between the blog and web albums and web sites and how I'm currently employed, I feel like I'm a victim of too much technology and not enough time which is why this blog usually suffers.

Balance

It's becoming increasingly difficult to find my balance. There are too many requests and too many deadlines and too many mandates mingling with a selfishness to choose how to divide my time and what to label as Priority 1A. I want to spend hours with fountain pen in hand allowing images to manifest themselves on journal pages through my inked words. I don't care if the end result is of publishing caliber. But the pages remain silent and the ink encapsulated, because it's not to be, at least not today or maybe not even this week, this month. Instead I'm stealing this minute for self-gratification and blogging this single paragraph .... a poor substitute at best.

Changing Time

Spring forward, fall back.... Glad this is 'fall back' time. I wonder if anyone actually changes the clocks at 2 AM, the official Daylight Savings Time beginning and I wonder why 2 AM was chosen. Or maybe it wasn't chosen. Maybe there is some scientific, meteorological, astronomical reasoning behind 2 AM. I waited until 7 AM after getting up and the coffee had finished brewing. I then sat in the easy chair, enjoyed the sunrise and the gift of time. I'm sure I won't feel the same way come 10 PM when my body is telling me its really 11.

Well Put

My son-in-law said it best: "So disappointed for my state, whose citizens collectively failed a rudimentary 6th grade civics exam yesterday."

Rambling Afterthoughts

I understand the Supreme Court Justices' news release was a very classy response. I would expect nothing less, though I haven't seen it yet. I can't seem to get over feeling really bad bad for them and I'm trying to decide if it's because I know them (I've played the piano while Justice Streit sang following dinner one evening at The Des Moines Club) or if I feel bad because administratively Q's work could, it appears, become more difficult, or because Iowans are just stupid to vote emotionally, reacting with revenge and ignorance to the real issues ... Then there's Newly Elected For the 5th Time Governor Brandstad -- My daughter says it feels like 1989 again. Actually, that wouldn't be all bad if I could have another 20+ years to live and be given some 'do-overs.'  Guess I'm felling pretty old today. Old and sad...

It Happened

The unofficial results indicate three Supreme Court Justices have been unseated. I don't like how I'm feeling and am ashamed Iowa has chosen to emotionally react. What's the next target? Where will the momentum take the throngs? Why do I feel like this is just the beginning? This feels so disastrous... My Pentecostal upbringing resurfaces with these feelings and, coupled with earthquakes, tsunamis, and economic collapse reported in recent news features, I remember "Revelation" and wonder how close is the end as I know it? OK, now who is reacting with emotions...

Concerned....

I've been reading the DM Register, listening to comments of friends and acquaintances, watching the evening news, viewing web sites and, for the first time in my voting history, I am truly concerned regarding an outcome. This is different than just not liking the results. It's different than the typical philosophical debates surrounding Republican and Democrat ideology. I fear the potential consequences and foresee a very real, negative impact on the horizon - not only for the populace but for the individuals who passionately guard the law. I don't understand Iowans believing the judiciary must uphold the will of the people. I don't understand their disgust.

Life is about to change, I'm afraid. And, if early indications become reality, not for the better...

The Recall

Memory triggers fascinate me - the moments, the smells, the objects which cause deeply buried memories to resurface. The enthrallment begs the question 'why?' Why this memory? What was so poignant it was even preserved? Today's trigger: nail clippers.

• Activity: Hangnail caught on the dishtowel why drying dishes causing pain
• Problem: Remove exposed hangnail to eliminate further tear potential and minimize pain
• Solution: Retrieve nail clippers from the catch-all basket on the end-table and clip off the hangnail
• Memory: "Just trust me..."

While carefully trying to clip the offending hangnail, the memory of a Campfire Girls' Meeting interrupts my concentration. (Campfire Girls was more popular where I grew up than Girl Scouts but with similar goals and structure.) The year was approximately 1964. After the business meeting , project report, and a financial accounting from dues and most recent bake sale, the program began: "Manicures Keep Hands Pretty."
My memory fast forwards to the moment I heard "trust me; it won't hurt.

The featured guest was showing the group, using my left index finger in the presentation, how to use nail clippers correctly to remove painful hangnails without pain. I really didn't believe it could be done and through her a I'm not that stupid, it's gonna hurt piercing glare. Every piece of mental armor went up when she looked at me and said "trust me." I didn't trust - especially adults who demanded I do.

The rest of the girls were standing around me, leaning forward, trying to get a better look, trying to see whether or not there would be blood with the clip while placing silent wagers as to whether or not the presenter was lying . The muscles in my arms tensed; my right foot began to twitch; I clenched my teeth and squinted, focusing on the manicurist's hand bringing the nail clipper closer and closer ....

She clipped. It didn't hurt. I was stunned ... not because of the absence of pain but because she hadn't lied.

yet here i sit...

The storms have passed this Sunday morning. A quick drive around indicates more severity than first realized. Limbs, some big enough to cause detours to the wrong side of the road, have found new homes on side streets. Smaller versions, still clutching small bunches of leaves, paint sidewalks to brilliant greens. Translucent, frail, cloud leftovers zig-zag across baby blue skies as the sun makes quick work evaporating puddle and surface moisture. The storms have passed this Sunday morning along with the time for reflection...

Two in a Row

Perhaps sitting in a hotel room gazing out a window toward rolling greens and sand traps of the resort's (and I use that term loosely) golf course listening to the iPod causes the contemplation necessary to actually blog two days in a row. (Is blog a verb and a noun?) Or maybe it's not contemplation but just slowing down enough to make the effort.

I often wonder how 'off' I am because I enjoy staying in a room writing or reading or gazing even though there's the casino four floors down and amenities (spa, wellness center, restaurants, shopping) all available to steal my time. Yet, here I sit. And I'm just fine with that...

rambling thoughts

at some point,
should we evaluate
the impact life has on living?
should we look back and say,
'ahh ha' I get it now'
because it all
really does matter?

do choices made then
have minimal impact
on now since now is
so far removed from then?

consequences and learning
must go hand-in-hand
with choices from both
and you'd think
we'd all eventually say
'ahh ha, it really does matter'
because of the consequences
but too many people
still don't get it.

Breakfast in the Backyard

There seems to be a lot of Cedar Wax Wings this year. Flocks of them in the back yard enjoy fruit from the CrabApple trees. Their coloring makes it difficult to see how many there are sometimes. It's nice to have a zoom lense in these circumstances...

Agghhh!

Technology and its changes are quite frustrating! Blogging.... it's an adequate substitution to throwing the laptop or blackberry or dvr or bluetooth device out the window...

There's a type of storm that...

...makes you run outside, risk being pelted in the face by stinging rain drops and wind threatening that low hanging branch, so you can pull your car into the garage because you know the hail is coming and its going to get worse long before the storm subsides.

...makes you want to throw on sweatpants and a sweatshirt, curl up in a blanket, pull a good book from the shelf, build a roaring fire and then open the window to feel the contrast of the storm's cool breeze and the fire's heat.

...causes melancholy to engulf your being, fills your brain with remember when and your eyes with tears because you finally realize you can never take it back - life has no dress rehearsals.

...energizes your thought processes and empowers creative genes resulting in massive productivity so at the end of the storm you walk away from activities satisfied, energized, and exhausted all at the same time.

I remember .... Part 2

I remember...

• when bread didn't come in plastic bags with twist ties. The ends were glued shut.
• when going to the circus meant you saw chimpanzies riding ponies, elephants dancing on big drums, and lions and tigers jumping through rings of fire.
• the first day I was allowed to wear "slacks" to school; I was in junior high.
• when candy bars cost 5 cents each.
• watching color television for the first time (The Wizard of Oz)
• when gas was about 50 cents a gallon.
• when celebrating 50 was forever away.
• how exciting it was to shop for school supplies and Ticonderoga #2 pencils.
• choosing to stay inside to read instead of playing outside in the snow.
• when seeing eagles by the river was a rarity.
• never believing in someday.

Time to Write

Rainy, cloudy, dark, dreary days bring out the writer in me. And there have been a lot lately. What is it about dismal surroundings that causes the creative spirits to awaken? That's anyone's guess...  I just know that listening to thunder's growl, rain and window pane clashes, twigs encased in ice snapping, and the requirement of an illuminated desklamp to review pencil scratching in my journal stimulates my brain. I don't get much work done, but somehow this time of reflection and compulsive writing helps keep that balance on which I'm always preaching.

Alienation
and endearment

engulf my being
while I stare through
a midnight window,
my surroundings kissed
by a shadowed moon.
Strange combination.
I wait and wonder
and question the
the conflict
now presented.
It's good to feel,
good to question,
imperative to find
resolution
with personal definition...
But resolve will have to wait
until morning skies
clear my mind
and awaken
my balanced
yet searching soul.

Faith Answers

It's all too common to feel
a lack of contribution
as time makes its rapid approach
toward the end of the ride.
It's natural to flip through
pages of memories and wonder,
"Did I make a difference,
influence anything?"
There is no meter
or on-line poll
allowing such analysis;
but giving your best
and gifting your time
allows faith to step in,
and answer, "Yes."

Holiday Reflection

"Charlie Brown" Christmas music is silently playing inside my head while I sit in the living room observing a tree loaded with lights but void of presents, gifts scattered around wing-backed chairs, the dog asleep at my feet, and an icy, wintry mix pelting the window panes.

A melancholy feeling surrounds my soul each Christmas following the unwrapping of gifts and the consumption of Monkey Bread (which is now nothing more than a few crumbs and hardening caramel on the platter).

I'm not sure if this feeling is because anticipation has dissipated or time has eradicated the sense of Christmas direction once present distribution and Christmas morning has passed.

Analyzing doesn't' change things. It's good to know the feeling always fades upon further reflection thanks to holiday magic and the enchantment of family.

Who Knows?

You know you're a writer-wanna-be when you have nearly brilliant ideas flash to the forefront of your brain but no additional intellectual abilities to actually develop those thoughts beyond a single, albeit sagacious, line.

You know you're a writer-wanna-be when, while cleaning off the top of your desk, you find scratch paper with one-liners jotted in bad penmanship and you don't even know if they're your thoughts or ideas gleaned from others' thoughts or works.

"A sense of dread held her heart like unwelcome hands."

"They said the same things over and over until her emotions caught up with her intellect."

"Should we only believe in miracles when it's required? If so, when is that? Christmas miracles are easier to believe in than everyday miracles."

"We do those around us an injustice by assuming they recognize our distress or elation."