Best Friends

I think I would simply cease to exist if I didn't have friends.

Today, one of my best girlfriends from California was in the neighborhood so we met for a long lunch. Needing to become 'current' with the events in each others lives, we yakked a mile a minute. Soon we were able to focus on matters of the heart; our passions, our dreams and current realities.

As I drove home, I felt energized, encouraged, loved and heard (as in listened to) in a special way that is unique to women.

Thank you, dear friend, for hearing & understanding the yearnings of my heart & whispers from my soul.

Glynn's birthday weekend

It was a lemon meringue kind of weekend. (Glynn's birthday dessert choice.)

Since it was his birthday I refrained from a stare of disapproval when he ordered a piece of mud pie for dessert. Look at the size of what was delivered to our table on Friday night. How ridiculous is that? It easily could have fed 6 people! Needless to say, we brought it home (it was frozen hard) and it awaits nibbling at a future date.

Chloe and Sophie came for a weekend stay. Our first adventure was The Children's Museum. Spending time there on a Saturday morning is not for the faint of heart. Scores of loud, excited children clamor on and around the play areas, vying for position while shrilling loudly, 'MOM, LOOK AT ME!' During our 2 hours of play, there were only 5 other children in attendance. I assume it's because the Museum's 'Sand in the City' event was going on downtown. It was delightfully fun!



That evening, Glynn smoked a brisket and we invited friends over for dinner. Sophie helped Uncle Glynn open his birthday gifts.


We had our usual tea party. I made sure the girls poised their pinkies properly while sipping their tea.

While looking through my cedar chest for old Barbie clothes, I found this party dress of mine. I think mom bought it for my 6th birthday party! Sophie, who will be six in October, modeled it for me. Sadly, I don't think these frilly organza-type party dresses are made any longer.

Next we headed back downtown to experience the 'Sand in the City' event. Truckloads of sand are trucked in and teams build sand creations. As always, I'm amazed at the patience and attention to detail these creations entail. I only snapped a couple of pictures of parts of a team's creation. The first was labeled 'extreme camping adventures'. The second involves 2 snowmen mourning the loss of a melted snowman.


This evening, having put my house back together, I'm relaxing and watching the clock, waiting for bedtime. Auntie Sue is tired after a busy weekend!

Sometimes, I feel sorry for me.....

Count your blessings, they tell me.

I do. I am love-soaked by an incredible husband, children, family & friends. I'm able to walk upright, using all my limbs and digits. I eat 3 balanced meals a day. Stuff fills my lovely home. My garden overflows with color and delight.

And I'm just one of millions who lives in a 'land of plenty'.

Yet when I see images portraying inhabitants of other countries, even third world countries, I observe something that seems to be missing from snapshots of life in America. I see bright smiles on the faces of happy children; a group of children seen playing outside, creating their own play environments using homemade props or their imagination.
I see adult men and woman, congregating in the village square. The women may have a bundle on their heads and the men appear to be in work clothes. Yet they take the time to stop and chat and laugh with one another.

In America, our 'disposable' income allows us to purchase items that supposedly create comfort, ease and pleasure. Why, then, are we filled with stress and a sense of impending doom? Why is 10% of our population taking anti-depressants? Why are our children being prescribed pharmaceutical drugs to calm them or ease their anxieties? Where are the smiles on the faces of people residing in one of the richest countries in the world?

My good friend, Jonny, and I were talking about 'feeling sorry' for those in other countries who live with less. Perhaps the family shares a tiny two room home. Perhaps the six children must make do by sharing one gnarly looking bicycle. Perhaps chickens run in and out the front door of their home.

Yet, perhaps this little family shares stories and laughter and camaraderie in the evenings instead of sitting slack faced in front of the TV. Perhaps the children are learning invaluable lessons after school while helping out in the family business instead of exercising their thumbs on a video game controller or by cell phone texting.

Perhaps I should be feeling sorry for those of us who have allowed the quest for 'more' to distort our perspectives...

For the love of books

How lucky am I to have a new friend who just happens to work at Barnes & Noble?! This is the second sack of books she has passed on to me (which I, in turn, will pass on to others).

I'm a bit alarmed at the touch of fall in the air. Spider webs are appearing, heavy with dew in the early morning hours. The sun casts a softer light upon its subjects then it did a month ago and it shines from a different angle.

The weather change is perfectly normal for this time of year. I'm a bit mixed up because I'm still waiting for summer to begin.


From this point on, I vow to stop yearning for summer and enjoy what will soon be autumn - a season I love!

Extraordinarily ordinary

Today I fussed.

Webster needs to add another definition to the word 'fuss'. Yes, babies fuss and people fuss at one another....

But my form of fussing doesn't annoy anyone and it gives me great pleasure.

My fussing amounts to taking care of details. Perhaps it's rearranging books on a book case or deadheading flowers or mucking out a closet. It usually involves restoring order to chaos. (Freud would likely have a diagnosis here....)

At any rate, my ordinary day felt quite extraordinary after I finished fussing.

While fussing in my garden, I discovered a HUGE zucchini. I know I planted pumpkins and squash but I don't remember planting zucchini! We had sliced, breaded zucchini along with fresh scallops for dinner.

While fussing, I took a picture of these lovely double hollyhocks in my garden. All my hollyhocks grew over 10' tall this summer. Perhaps our cooler than normal spring and summer contributed to this feat?
I love the contrasting colors in this Swiss chard. Alas. I wished it tasted as pretty as it looks. So far, the only way I can eat it is to blend it with other greens in my blender for a healthy smoothie.

And then there is Otis. He joined me on the deck (appropriating one of the deck chairs as his) while I read.


This is a space marker at the privately owned campground adjacent to our home that Otis and I stroll through daily. This one marker always stands out with its furry head.

My good friend reminds me often that what I deem as ordinary days are really quite extraordinary.

Indeed, I am blessed to have an extraordinarily ordinary life.

Sweet pleasure

When I listen to a haunting violin concerto, my heart hurts. Not to worry - it's a good hurt, if there is such a thing.

When I stumbled across this picture on the web (artist unknown), I felt the same sensation, coupled with a tiny cartwheel in my gut.

I'm thinking this young girl is experiencing the same response as she reads words that touch her very essence - her soul.

I count myself as one of the lucky ones because I feel things strongly. Not everyone does. (Or, perhaps distractions deaden their awareness.) Music, nature, quietness, epiphanies, colors, cause me to emote. Lightheartedness, tears, melancholy, and/or laughter result.

And, it's all good.

All dressed up and nowhere to go

Warning!

If you do not want to converse about cross dressing, read no further.

Recently we rented to a Jane Doe (name changed to protect identity). She is thin, petite and wears flowery, flamboyant attire. Her outfits include leggings or tights in bright colors, short skirts, crazy hats & plenty of jewelry. Although I haven't seen cleavage, she appears to have boobs.

Trouble is, she is actually a he - per his driver's license. The face & voice & legs simply do not jive with the attempt at female impersonation.

Said tenant is very courteous and nice. Although I'm much too polite to address the obvious, I would love the opportunity to talk to Jane about her gender. I'm curious if he is in the process of becoming a she. Assuming she wants to look like a she, has she felt trapped/hidden in a male body all her life?

Due to chromosomal abnormalities some babies are deemed hermaphrodites because they lack sufficient sexual organs to determine gender. Our society has long mocked those, especially males, who are confused about their gender.

I vote for replacing judgment with compassion and understanding.

I applaud Jane for her courage in not hiding her identity. I contend that her heart, regardless of gender, loves & yearns & hurts & swells & bleeds just the same as mine....