Miss Mooty's Musings

Vision Board

2012-01-16T11:18:00.000-08:00

I did it.
I finally made a Vision Board.
It actually took me several days to select the images from all the magazines I had gathered together. Sometimes...and it's been more often than not lately, my thoughts and what is appealing to me is not what I would like to look at each day. The "visions" that creep into my head with the persistence of weeds that are determined to over-run even the most beautiful garden are not the pictures that dreamers have. They are images of:
Hopelessness.
Mistake.
Bother.
Pain.
Darkness.
So I waited until the dark thoughts passed, and they usually do, and created a board that hopefully will help to make this year one that I can reflect back on with smiles instead of remorse for days gone by wasted in a dark abyss.
Depression is one of those things that most people would rather not talk about. You can "see" it in a person's eyes if you take the time to ask them how they are doing. When asked how they are most will generally answer "great" or "couldn't be better" but if you look into their eyes and get a glimpse of their soul you can "see" their pain, if it is there.
Sometimes all it takes to help a person to begin to move out of that pain zone is just a look that lets them know that you understand and if you do happen to encounter someone whose candle is barely flickering...then use your candle to light it.
Who knows, there may come a time when a wind might be threatening your light and the person whose candle you re-lit will be able to return the favor in kind.

Here's to a 2012 that is full of light, love and endless possibilities!

Vision Board 2012

December Moments 2011

2011-12-29T05:48:00.000-08:00

It's almost time to bid farewell to 2011. It's actually only hours away! Another year gone past. For me, it is a time of deep gratitude for what was and as I get ready to hang up a new calendar, it is a time of hopefulness for what can be.I know for the most part, what I paint on the 2012 canvas is in my hands. However, it's the experiences that happen when we aren't too caught up worrying about what we should be painting that create a masterpiece.
I thought I would share my annual holiday letter on this post as well as a few photos of moments that made my heart smile during this past yultide season.


Christmas Morning

25 December 2011
"Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and behold everything is softer and more beautiful." Norma Vincent Peale

Happy Merry Holly-Days to you and yours! Finding time to make time to spend with each other can prove challenging especially when are so many important things to take care of! I find myself hearing all of the usual sentiments of the season. Questions such as, "Are you READY for Christmas?" or "Gee I wish I could stop by/have some tea with you and visit but I have TONS to do before Christmas Day" the list of busy-ness goes on. What if (and this is just a thought) we really DID slow down...and savor the season and each other? Enjoy the moments that add up to create magical memories? Eggnog lattes, freshly baked goodies, the smell of a fresh Christmas tree, beautiful carols, twinkling Christmas lights...and children who still BELIEVE in the wonder of it all.I suspect they (the moments) are there, waiting for us to embrace IF we just allow the time for them to happen. Let's see if I can recollect some of our "moments" of 2011. We have begun our journey to be totally self-employed and living in a little villa by the sea in Italy creating awesome iPhone/iPad apps and interactive children's stories. We released Astoria! Sights to See With Skyler Seagull in May. It is a travel iPhone/iPad/iPod app with a talking seagull named Skyler as tour guide for Astoria, Oregon. Nate also created a Marine VHF app that helps mariners use Marine VHF frequencies. When he is not doing freelance interactive work he is working on one of our many creative projects. I am still seeking a publisher for one of my completed children's books. Would love to have one of my stories printed up the old fashioned way in addition to having it be on an iPad. Santa??Could use a spot of help with that request.We feel totally blessed that Ronnah, Mark, Shiloh, Isabelle and Cameron as well as Jessi, Kyle and Carter will be celebrating Christmas with us. That is the best gift I can think of to find under the tree. Well actually they will not be UNDER the tree, but I'm sure you caught what I was going for. Christmas. It comes once a year.
Enjoy it and your friends and family.
May the coming year surround you with much love, prosperity, good health and magical moments.
Love,
Laura, Nate, Kona the dog and Zoey the Kat

In approximately 4 hours Nate and I are going to head downtown to participate in a "year to year" 1.5 k walk/run. I've got my jingle wrist bells and kazoo ready! My nephew Ty just "face-timed" us from Afghanistan. He was just beginning the New Year on that side of the world. I think it's great that technology actually allowed us to chat "face to face"! Me in Lake Oswego-land and Ty half way around the world in Afghanistan. I only wish that the people who inhabit our wonderful planet could embrace peace and respectful co-habitation as quickly and easily as technology is introduced into different cultures and countries. As John Lennon so eloquently wrote in his song Imagine, "You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one..."

► 3:55► 3:55

www.youtube.com/watch?v=-b7qaSxuZUg
Imagine by John Lennon

I guess that about wraps up this Holly-Day post, other than including a few pictures of some of my make my heart smile moments.

thankful for visit from cousin

picking out poinsetta's at Al's

picking our own CB tree

volunteering at a bookstore

A Charlie Brown Christmas


stockings hung with care

*stringing popcorn and cranberries at 4 in the morning while watching a I Love Lucy Christmas special *going out for a fantastic breakfast with friends and family and then attending the Portland Christmas Revels medevial holiday presentation *eating frosted butter cookies with our afternoon tea *gift of one man presentation of A Christmas Carol from Nancy the Neighbor *both daughters and all the grand-munchkins spending Christmas with us *learning to play "Munchkin" with the munchkins *opening night of the Festival of Lights at The Grotto *listening to the music of the season *"stanza standoff" with granddaughter Isabelle..we learned The Night Before Christmas *just to name a few....

a gift

our tree

make a wish snowflakes

family :)

baking command center

enjoying the smells (and flowers) of the season


"they don't move"

It Happens Too Often...

2011-11-11T06:43:00.001-08:00

It happens too often.
You know, when a song gets stuck in your head? And goes on "repeat" at 2 a.m or in the middle of an important conversation? I think (to some of us at least) that this infuriating situation happens to some of us more often than others.
This time of year seems to be when the affliction flares up in all its annoying glory on a regular basis.
It is not even mid-November and a local radio station has already switched over to become "The Christmas Station" for Portland. That's all fine and lovely however when all they choose to play are the songs of the season that drive a person friggin nuts. "Over the River", "It's a Jolly Holly Christmas" or even ones that I do not know how they even got recorded such as "Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer". It seems the more repetitious or horrible the lyrics are the easier our brain waves want to latch on to them for repeat mode.
There are so many beautiful pieces of music that refect the season AND ARE INSTRUMENTAL! Piano, classical guitar, orchestra the list goes on! They all play wonderful songs that soothe the soul, have been around forever and help to capture the magic of the season, not the insanity of it! Guess I need to be pro-active and get into defensive mode since I know I am extremely vulnerable. I vow to NOT touch the radio dial in my car and to allow only songs in my brain that I can handle. I guess that will have to include Raffi's "Must Be Santa" and "All I Want For Christmas" by the Chipmunks as that is one of the hazards of being a Nana to a two year old during the holidays. Thank You universe for Pandora and iTunes hopefully I will get through the rest of the season (for the most part) mentally intact!

My Bowling Team

2011-11-04T12:47:00.000-07:00

Yes it's true.
I have my very own bowling team hanging out in my closet. Since I have guy and gal bowling shirts I decided that it would work well to have it be a mixed league team. The number of shirts that I actually own are not that many...but enough for a team for sure! There is "Doc", "Abner", "Sammie", "Nev" and "Dino". Unfortunately I sold "Erma" awhile back and although she may be gone, she will never be forgotten.
I started collecting retro bowling shirts after I had outgrown a fondness of Hawaiian shirts. The coffee shop I had in Astoria, Oregon was right next door to a vintage clothing store. Once word was out that I had an affection for these kind of shirts they seemed to make themselves available out of nowhere! But that was o.k. since not only did I enjoy wearing the shirts I found myself imagining what the namesake on the shirt was really like on their bowling nights back in the day. Having a vivid imagination AND a captive audience provided the perfect stage for my storytelling. As I prepared various beverages I began sharing tidbits of the person whose shirt I was wearing.
For example I pictured "Dino" as being a solid, sturdy, cigar smoking bowler who when he rolled his ball down the lane it would guaranteed almost always be a strike! And not just a strike but an EXPLOSIVE strike! A pins in the next lane strike! You see "Dino" had very powerful arms and even though he did enjoy his cigars, he was in excellent shape and a very focused bowler. (I bet he even had bowling tattoos on his forearm)
On the other hand...I imagined "Sammie" as also being a committed bowler, but not to the actual game itself. Her hot pink shirt reflected her hot pink attitude! It was HER night to smoke a bit, drink a bit and flirt ALOT. Hubby had to stay home with the kiddos. She wasn't the best on the team, but she really didn't have to be as keeping moral high (for the WHOLE league) is an important contribution. Wasn't it?
My daughters have threatened to turn me in to the show: "What NOT to Wear" but I tell them that there is NO WAY that I would relinquish my "friends". I realized that after "Erma" was sold on Craigslist. The sale took place in some random parking lot and I felt like I had abandoned her! "Sammie" and "Erma" were both moms who had their one night out a week. However "Erma" would have dinner ready, kids p.j's out and a heartfelt gratitude to her husband for allowing her that one little weekly escape. The team has kept me company on many occasion and have been the start of conversations (not that I need too much help in that department). And bowling shirts are so versatile! When its cold out you can wear a turtleneck underneath, or if its warm they work well alone...all around making it a fashion STRIKE!

Weekend Escape

2011-11-02T10:50:00.000-07:00

It was only two days and two nights AND less than a four hour drive from our little cottage. However it FELT like we had gone to another world. It had been way too long since we had escaped from our every day schedules and worries so this little jaunt to Bend, Oregon was just what was needed for our overly-stressed souls. I was happy& relieved that the bed and breakfast I chose was a winner! It's location across the street from beautiful Drake Park allowed easy foot access to downtown Bend and all the festivities that awaited us that weekend. Not only was First "Art Walk" Friday going on that weekend, the BendFilm 8th Annual Indie Festival was also in town! After much ooh-ing and aah-ing over our room and the rest of the gorgeous lodge, we quickly unpacked and set off with no particular agenda. The park was absolutely lovely and I was happy to see many "please DO NOT feed the ducks and geese signs" about as our people food is really quite yucky for them to digest. While we were enjoying the sights and smells of the park along came a rather large black "puppy" on a freedom run. I got lucky and grabbed his leash to slow him down a bit and hopefully see if a owner would be close behind. Luckily (since he had no tags) a couple of young guys came panting along very grateful that we had caught the escapee. After only a couple of hours in Bend we realized that this was one very dog loving/dog friendly community! The businesses were open late (because of first friday and all that jazz) welcoming all (furry & non-furry) with hors d'oeuvres, wine, beer and live music. As we meandered in and out of stores, deciding on a place to eat dinner became a priority. There were people EVERYWHERE so one can assume that the lines in each of the restaurants would reflect the extreme busyness of the evening. We happened upon a parking lot that had been transformed to an outdoor theater showing one of the award winning indie films that was featured in the festival. A few food stands were also in place so it seemed like the perfect place to settle down for a spell, enjoy a film and finally eat. "In the Spirit of Laxmi" was an excellent film about a man (Gerhard Wiehahn) who commits 16 months of his life to raising an injured leopard cub. It's a good thing the film was so well done as it helped to off-set the most horrible tacos I had ever tasted in my whole life (and trust me I have had a few!) Thank goodness the next meal on the docket would be the gourmet breakfast from our hosts at the lodge!

It's funny how a person gets used to their sleeping accommodations. In this particular B&B the room we had originally selected was out of commission, so the innkeeper upgraded us to a room with a very huge KING SIZE bed. That may not be a big deal to most folks however we are used to our cozy double bed. That's right double. To jump from a double size to a KING size bed made us very empathetic with Goldilocks who struggled with finding the right sized bed. It's funny how we still only used 1/4 of the bed!
Breakfast was a delight and I have to admit some of the enjoyment of the meal is discovering the other guests at the breakfast table. Once we were fed like royalty, we headed out for a day of learning all we could about this interesting and very different than Portland terrain. The intoxicating scent of sage and Ponderosas reminded me of Flagstaff, Arizona. The area that we "explored" was once a very active volcanic range and are part of the Cascades. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cascade_Range

I learned more about volcanoes that Saturday! We drove up one, walked around the rim of one, visited a lake that was the result of one and lastly walked a wonderful trail that led through a large obsidian flow. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Obsidian
Don't know if I have ever mentioned before how much I LOVE "google-ling"! Back in the day if I had a question my dad would say..."Look it up in the dictionary" or "Look it up in the @#&!! encyclopedias we bought for you kids!" (there were no other options for inquisitive kids such as myself back then either) NOW I can google any question I have WHENEVER I want as I am now the proud owner of an iPhone! As usual when I travel I get a whole new repertoire of questions. For instance I did not know the difference between a National Monument and a National Park! Come to find out that the difference is what is IN each one. A National Monument contains something of historic, prehistoric or scientific interest, whereas a National Park has some outstanding scenic feature or natural phenomenon. How about that? (google helps my smart meter) :)
Considering the AWFUL dinner we had on Friday night we really wanted to have our other Bend evening dining experience to go well. Unfortunately things were starting to take a turn for the worse as we did not get back into Bend until the bewitching dinner hour and my diabetic slumpies was starting to kick in. We walked and walked looking in the windows of the crowded restaurants (the film festival was still going strong) and at the very expensive menus that were posted outside of them. At the outdoor cinema one of the tents had offered a meatloaf plate (which we totally should of chose instead of the tacos) ANYWAY...the restaurant with the homey -looks like mom just made it for you- meatloaf called itself The Common Table. http://commontable.net/ It's claim to fame was that it was a totally non-profit restaurant with the cool twist that those who paid, paid for others who were unable to!

I totally felt cool & totally couldn't see a thing either!

It took awhile to locate the establishment and we were most happy when a volunteer greeted us on the sidewalk to welcome us to the table! The food was fantastic, the (totally volunteer) staff was superb and simply said a good time was had by all! We even were given complimentary sunglasses and hats!
On the way back to our neck of the Northwest woods we made a quick stop by Smith Rock. The trails and rock climbing in that beautiful park have something for every skill level! We made a mental note to get in better shape and head back that way in the spring!

We will see YOU in the spring!!

A Wedding to Attend/Part One

2011-09-27T06:21:00.000-07:00

I don't do weddings.
But family ties and a free ticket to Arizona made it next to impossible to come up with any sort of reason to NOT go. After all it WAS my nephews wedding. And being the Auntie that I am, any trepetitions on going would need to be set aside. This was going to be a good thing I told myself. I just needed to get through the ordeal of finding a dress to wear. (I felt bad about the poor guy at Urban Outfitters who didn't know what to tell me as I emerged from the fitting room in tears to look at some silly floral frock that I would never wear again under ANY circumstance) Now I am getting off track but I bet you can tell where this is going. I don't like shopping. For clothes anyway. I own TWO dresses and TWO skirts. I need (or at least feel the need) to lose AT LEAST 10 to 15 lbs to justify spending any sort of cash on this body, and to be honest the cash was not as abundant as my waistline was. I am aware that I need to work on my "Hello I Love Myself No Matter What Attitude", however that was not in functioning mode when I went shopping.
I did get some good advice from the checkout girl at the Whole Foods Market. She said she simplifies her wardrobe by wearing nothing but black (the Johnny Cash look) and coloring her hair fushia pink to off set the dark look.
Nice. And she gets all of her clothes from second hand stores as she claims there always is a huge selection of black articles of clothing.
I respond that that is excellent advice HOWEVER my HUGE problem with procrastination had left me searching for something to wear to the wedding the day before I was scheduled to leave. Throw in compulsive need to CLEAN and COOK and leave EVERYTHING taken care of for my guy and well, I guess that's where they get the expression of running around like a"chicken with it's head cut off." (not a pretty picture by the way)
Back to my quest for a dress. In the past when I, (as I refer to it) lived on the other side of the fence, I would do all of my clothes shopping at Nordstroms, and not at their "Rack" store either. Their customer service always rocked, so I decided to roll the dice and see FIRST if I could find a parking spot in downtown Portland near Nordstroms during commute home time. I did. Hmmm, my angels must of taken pity on me as it was RIGHT NEAR the entrance. I zoomed by the doorman and decided to skip the fancy older ladies department and go to the Junior zone. I know, am I a total gluton for punishment? The sweet little sales girl asked if I needed some help. (having been a sales person before if I saw a tear-stained, wearing what I was wearing "older" lady zoom into my department that would of been my signal to go straighten up the dressing rooms or something)
She smiled. Oh boy she was going to earn her minimum wage with me!
I told her I had 20 minutes to find a dress, that did NOT make me look fat, that would be worn in 100+ degree weather AND would need to cost less than fifty dollars.
She didn't bat an eye.
She led me to not one but TWO racks of flow-ey (not flowery...FLOW-Y)dresses out of cotton. The price worked within my meager budget, then came the true test of trying it on. Would I cry?
One worked! Bless the patient salesgirl, I was going to say bless the maufacturers of the inexpensive dress, however I can't go down THAT road or I would have to veto the dress as I imagine someone working 80 hour weeks at $1 an hour to sew it. For the moment I had found a dress.
Done and done.

Not So Different...

2011-09-04T17:04:00.000-07:00

The Seedy Cafe is open seven days a week. The feathered, furry customers come EARLY each morning ready for their breakfast of peanut butter suet cakes, seeds, peanuts, fresh water and sometimes an apple or two. The cafe is hopping (no pun intended) for the whole day. As evening approaches the feathered customers like to perch and generally hang out in the branches before heading home to their respective nests. They aren't eating (because they have been at it ALL DAY), but seem to enjoy the quiet comradery of just chilling on the branches. It reminds me of going to a favorite coffee house where they don't shoo you and your computer away once your cup of joe is gone.
Evening arrives, and the night inhabitants emerge.
The rat holes that lead under the cottage that had been filled in during the day get re-opened. Owls work the evening-all night shift as they realize that their most scrumptious meals are on that same nocturnal schedule. Morning comes, the day customers show up and the cycle begins again.
Except on Sunday.
The squirrels especially like to sleep in, sometimes taking the whole day off.
If you have ever worked an evening shift you will notice that there is a whole different society out there that does what they need to do while some of us are sleeping. And vice-versa.
Once again I am reminded of how we (feathered, furry, human and plants) are all really
not so different....

A Cardboard Box

2011-08-18T05:57:00.000-07:00

Magical.
That's what a cardboard box can become when left to the creativeness of children.
It can be a boat. Or a car(make/model of their choosing).
It can turn into a house, a condo or a cabin in the woods.
And usually the box does not cost the adult who provides said box anything (except maybe the item that CAME in the box originally).
Provide a box of crayons for the interior decorating, perhaps cut out a window and wa-la a four sided piece of cardboard transforms magically into whatever the inhabitants want it to be!
The other day (after many LONGGGG days of babysitting my two year old grandson) I popped into the Learning Store that I used to work for (and barely broke even with since I usually spent the paycheck on toys). Anyway, I stopped by to say hello and of course check out the fantastic new "learning" toys available. Keep in mind this IS a fantastic store and I just LOVE that everything is educational and age appropriate. As usual my grandson gravitated to a cool toddler marble thingy. I thought to myself....hmmm wonder if this will keep him interested through dinner preparation?? So I bought it.
Yes, he did like it, and other than using the plastic marbles (the size of golfballs) to try and throw at the dog it all and all was a good purchase. Or so I thought until my partner gently reminded me of our commitment to staying in budget...wanting to take a trip...etc etc.
It was then that I remembered, not so very long ago, when we watched my granddaughters quite a bit, that there was no way jose that we could buy toys of any sort. We did always manage to keep unlimited supplies of paper with lots of scotch tape and of course crayons/paints and colored pencils. Those little munchkins could create just about anything with those!
And then of course there was the occasional magical cardboard box. It is amazing to watch children use their imaginations to create whatever they want to be or play with out of a simple cardboard box. We were witness to an indoor lemonade stand, a castle, a grocery store, an office where I visited a "Publisher", who upon reviewing my story wrote out a contract saying "Publesh a children book called William G. Quail yes I WILL!" (I keep that one posted where I can see it near my computer).
Next time I am thinking of purchasing a new toy I just may have to stop by the grocery store first and check out their extra (free) boxes!

The Hole

2011-08-12T06:26:00.000-07:00

That's what we called it.
The Hole.
My trustworthy Chambers Dictionary describes a "hole" as being a noun, a hollow place; a cavity; place of lodging; an animal's place of refuge; or even as a secret room. It was all of these and more to those of us who felt lucky enough to live in one of the neighborhoods that bordered the empty field that housed The Hole.

Our neighborhood was referred to as the "White Island". In that part of the LosAngeles burbs back in the 60's I guess our small group of Craftsman homes was indeed surrounded by a sea of, to lack a better phrase "non-whites". What "ethnicity" one was never affected ownership rights to The Hole. On any given day, it was the kids that got there FIRST who could proclaim themselves the winners and official occupants (for the day at least) of The Hole.

Due to school, homework and early dinner hours during the week The Hole would sit uninhabited and quite ignored except for the random crows that would scavenge pieces of dried up peanut butter and jelly sandwiches left behind by the previous occupants. Also, it wasn't quite as fun to stake claim to The Hole when there wasn't anyone to challenge who got there first. Saturday mornings were a totally different story. If we were lucky...(lucky being whoever got there FIRST) managing The Hole would consume most of our day. It's one of those things that even if we did not want to spend the whole day in a dirty hole, in the middle of an empty field, keeping a lookout for Hole Snatchers, that is where we would all hang out. Like it or not. Boring or not. And for the whole day.
Bragging, ownership and WE'RE THE BEST rights overruled having fun skateboarding or riding our bikes.
What were we thinking?!

Then one day it finally happened.
We had our eyes opened (or in my case shut) as to how really stupid it was to spend valuable play time claiming and defending this very small piece of real estate.
Let me explain the events that led up to this revelation.
As in every "army" there usually can be found a renegade or two who choose to not follow the rules of war. Respect to the rules understood by all the parties involved fly out the window when the enemy is disrespected. That is when people can get hurt if there is a retaliation to the disrespect. (am I making any sense here??)
On this particular Saturday morning our renegade soldiers from "The White Island" decided to sneak up to the already occupied Hole and toss in a couple of dirt clods to "show the other neighborhood that although we did not have claim rights to The Hole that morning we wanted them to understand that we were not happy about that status. Keep in mind this was a random bullying act from two brothers who most likely were just acting out of frustration from extra chores at home or something along that line. It did not matter why they did what they did, but by doing so a Cry to Arms was sounded. Soon EVERYONE (inhabitants of The Hole and of the White Island) were involved in one of the largest dirt clod/rock throwing fights the Neighborhoods had ever been witness to before.
I was five at the time and quite the peace loving (and curious) little girl so I just stood by my older brother in a show of solidarity behind a small fence that was being used to deflect the onslaught of rocks and dirt clods.
Being quite curious about anything and everything, when I peeked over the fence to get a good view of the fracas I allowed my person to be momentarily un-protected. That is when I got clobbered in the eye by a rock disguised as a dirt clod. (those do tend to throw further and not fall apart in transit).
All flinging of clods, rocks and insults ceased when my older brother yelled that there had been a casualty on our side. Parents came streaming out of homes wondering what was going on and I was whisked off to the local emergency room to see what the damage was.
I was lucky. A good flushing (and many treats) later my bruised only eye and I went home.

We all learned a lot that day.
One being that if you hurt one of her kids my mom will make sure the perpetrator turns over any and all of their paper route money to pay for the damage.
More importantly the Neighborhoods learned to share The Hole, (once everyone was allowed to actually go out and play in the field again).

Sure wish those lessons were as easily learned by everyone everywhere.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-b7qaSxuZUg

Technology....

2011-05-21T12:25:00.000-07:00

It's a love/slightly not like relationship for me. This technology stuff. For a person, such as myself, who tends to be "a reactor" in life, the instantness of our gadgets can get me in trouble! If I tweet or post my status on Facebook it is INSTANTLY OUT THERE. Sheesh, it would be lame for me to post something else within the next ten minutes (even though my status has changed) however that is how it goes sometimes. Up-Down-Hot-Cold-Happy-NotSoHappy. In some ways this whole social networking thing has made me a bit of a shrinking violet since not only do the people closest to me know that I am similar to a fart in a whirlwind, EVERYONE on Facebook or Twitter can be aware of that fact as well.
And what about cell phones?! Hands down, no doubt about it, they are useful and convenient. I know I am going to "date" myself as I roll down memory lane, but heck it wasn't that long ago when cell phones were non-existent except to perhaps secret agents and spys. Back in high school if I really liked some one, I would somehow figure out how to let them have my phone number. And then the waiting would commence. Hoping beyond hope that when the phone rang it would be for me AND that my sometimes bratty younger brother would not answer the phone first. Or my parents, who always asked too many questions. IF the phone call was indeed for me, most likely the whole family would be able to listen in on the conversation as I was CONNECTED to the wall or desk by the phone. Luckily my parents had long cords so I could stretch into the pantry for a bit of privacy. There were no answering machines when I went to high school either. My younger brother (yes, the bratty one) certainly did not fit the description of one either. Ideally (in a pefect world)should he be the one to answer the phone,he would write down an accurate account of who the caller was (with more detail than "some guy"),and write down any pertinate information relating to the call. My brother employed his own unique style. And he was expensive, since bribery is never cheap. It was always very "iffy" on whether he would actually pass on information to me when he anwered the phone, or totally RUIN any chances I had with the caller by making what he called "small talk". I'll give you an example: "Oh you want to talk to my sister? Why? Oh. O.K. even though she thinks you are a jack-hole and only wants to ride your motorcycle? So do you want her to call you back? Yea I thought so. Later."
As awful as it sometimes was at least I did not have to live with the angst of NOT getting a call. With caller I.D., messaging, e-mail, everyone having their OWN cell phones there really is no way to excuse non-communication.
That's where the love /slightly not like part comes in.
In the midst of all this instant communicating I am working to STAY IN THE MOMENT (but not let everyone on Facebook and Twitter know what that moment is about!) When reflecting on how we used to communicate, a phone call never happened while walking, paying for your groceries or driving your car. So if I am going to talk on the phone, write a note or update my status...I hereby make a vow to FOCUS on what I am doing at that moment and make it magical, which should be easy if I am not thinking about the traffic, the checkout person, whether I bought enough tomatoes...

Skyler Seagull Hatches An App!

2011-05-10T13:47:00.000-07:00

Finally! It feels good to participate in a creative project as it moves through the stages of idea-plan-research-write-edit-write some more-edit again and then mesh it with the other components of the project until wah-la! It is finis!! As a confirmed procrastinator it was the best thing in the world for me to have others depending on me to produce (on time) my stake in the project.
And we are all pretty proud of it as well! Here is the Press Release that I am using as we begin the process of Getting the Word Out.

Astoria! Sights to see with Skyler Seagull
Enjoying the sights of Astoria, Oregon will be a breeze with this application for your iPhone, iPod Touch or iPad, iOS 3.2 +. With Skyler as your audio guide,detailed descriptions of the interesting sights and museums in the area are at your fingertips. Professional pictures and descriptions of the attractions are only the beginning! A Google map, addresses, hours of operation and other pertinent information are all available just to name a few. A share feature is provided,making it simple to Tweet, Facebook or email your friends about the great time you are having! The star feature allows you to highlight you favorite attractions.
Priced at only $1.99 it's a fun and convenient way to experience Astoria!
Remember to keep the wind under your wings!

Available now for iPhone, iPod Touch or iPad, iOS 3.2+ on the App Store
http://www.browncoatapps.com/astoria-oregon/

So there you have it! Check out the website even if you do not have one of the Apple products to download it onto. I feel as if I have been stuck in the mud, or on ice, or in the sand...just spinning my wheels, wanting to get going but to no avail. Well this mirliton likes the zoom zoom feeling of a completed project and I do not plan on getting stuck again (at least not for awhile!)

Talon the Squirrel

2011-01-16T06:31:00.000-08:00

I had finally decided to name this cute (and chubby) squirrel that was one of the "regulars" to our outdoor Seedy Cafe.
Talon.
So one might be wondering how I came up with a name such as that as it sounds mighty noble and tough for a squirrel.
Well, he was.
Approximately a month or so ago I noticed one of our furry friends had a rather large red wound on his back. And although those little rascals are very quick as they scurry here and there checking out all possible food sources in our outdoor cafe I was finally able to figure out what the wound was on his back.
A large bird of prey had obviously grabbed Talon and somehow, someway the lucky guy had managed to get loose from the visor death grip and escaped.
This wound covered his whole back and it would make my day each time I watched the lucky squirrel eating and playing with the other squirrels, trying to chase off the rats that are visitors to the cafe as well. The wound healed and left a very distinctive scar that looked exactly like, you guessed it.
A talon.
His luck ran out yesterday, but not before he taught one very important lesson to the two dumb humans that run the Seedy Cafe.
The lesson?
Listen to your intuition!! Yes, that inner wisdom that tells you what is right or wrong...for you. We didn't and now we are feeling the anguish of what a human feels when they don't listen to that voice.
Previously I had mentioned that other visitors to the Seedy Cafe were rats that enjoyed the bird seed as much as the birds and squirrels. Unfortunately one rat had turned into two and then lo and behold there are four little ones out and about. With the growing rodent population came more holes all leading to under our cottage. With the multiple holes came horror stories of what would happen if we did not do something to control the situation, as rats tend to reproduce like rabbits (or so I heard) which in actuality I do not know the reproduction schedule of rabbits other than they do it alot?)
Our "intuition" told us to use a live trap. Our neighbor, and everyone else we spoke to regarding this situation pretty much suggested a humane way to get rid of the rats was to electrocute them in a special trap.
"Intuition" told us both dead was dead. However we went ahead and justified setting the trap out near one of their entrances deciding that perhaps killing a couple of rats will prevent us from having to kill many more if we waited.
Well even the baby rats knew not to go in the trap, (don't know if you know this but rats are extremely intelligent) and after four days had not triggered it. In fact one of the babies sleepily emerged from under our cottage, scurried past the trap (and me) looking for his seed breakfast.
Yesterday, as us two dumb humans were getting ready to head off for a morning of errands decided to "reset the trap" with of course lots of yummy bird seed. I saw where Nate had set it and thought to myself that's too tempting (and accessible) to the squirrels.
However I did not say or do anything to honor what my inner voice had just told me.
That's how we murdered Talon. I don't know if murder is too strong of a word, but that's what I am feeling. He is dead and will not greet me when the sun comes up this morning. He liked to sit on the gate and look into the living room willing me to go outside and fill up the peanut container. It always worked.
Nate says the other squirrels will not hold a grudge. They won't have to as I am holding it against myself anyway.
Talon had beat the odds and escaped an accomplished bird of prey's grip only to be zapped to death in a "safe environment" that he had trusted for almost two years.
I am so sorry Talon.
We will figure out another way to deal with the rats that does not involve killing, humane or not because after all dead is dead. More importantly when one values life, it truly does not matter if you are cute or not.
I wished I had learned the lesson without having to feel the guilt that I do because I have violated something that is important to me.
Please forgive me.

A Few Unmentionable Thoughts

2010-12-04T07:42:00.000-08:00

I just can't let this muse go.
The situation in my drawer was pathetic.
Yes, it was time to venture to the land of retail and purchase a bra (or two). Was I nuts? The mall which was the ONE place that I would find the particular brand that I like was my destination. Santa and a kazillion other shoppers would be there but as mentioned before the situation had become dire.
Loaded with good intentions and reminding myself that nothing would "disturb my calm" (a saying I happily adopted from a character (Jayne) in favorite sci-fi show of ours Firefly). I ventured onward. So far, so good, as it was still early in the day. There was a Choir of sweet cherubs singing and the crazy crowds had not left their native habitats yet.
I checked on a few Christmas gifts, picked up tights for my granddaughter and was feeling very empowered by the whole experience, even wishing a fellow shopper a "Happy Holiday".
Then it was time for the dressing room.
Tell me what are the odds of getting the SAME salesperson when I have only been into this store one other time this year?? I should wish for such odds and play the lottery that's all I have to say about that. So I KNOW what style I like, and let's face it ladies bras are an EXTREMELY unique item to purchase. The wrong fit could leave one black and blue, or worse make ones breasts look like torpedoes or a cantaloupe...(you get the idea) therefore STYLE, PROPER FIT and of course $$ are all important items to take into account.
I researched the brand I usually get and decided to actually try on a different STYLE.
Open the floodgates of retail opportunity for my salesperson! She now held me captive in a dressing room with "other" STYLES that would most surely not only fit well but help me to feel super sexy.
Seriously how many people see you in a bra?? O.K. Maybe that is too personal of a question. So I realize it is time to make a decision and get the heck out of the room when she hands over not one but two different style of "very beautiful" bras that cost $125... EACH!!
Now I am used to spending a bit more for my bras, much more than most women I would guess, but seriously $125?! For that amount one would think that it not only offers support and sexiness but also massage, skin conditioning and an overall euphoric experience for my breasts.
I passed them by.
Guess good old practicality and plain jane-ness won out. My breasts might not be having the ultimate bra experience but I bet I can find some other fun way to spend the $ I saved.

A Holiday Afternoon Tea

2010-12-02T06:14:00.000-08:00

Fancy teacups.
Scones with strawberry jam and cream.
Little sugar cubes.
Tea.
Doilies.
Dresses.
Finger sandwiches.
Grapes.
Six young ladies.
Holiday music (playing softly in background)

Hopefully a fond moment for my granddaughters and their friends as we welcome in this season of Joy.
(but then again sisters are involved and things could go any which way!)

A Few Thoughts on Poinsettas and Being Present

2010-11-30T06:18:00.000-08:00

It's official. Two beautiful poinsettias have made their way to our little cottage, my Johnson Bros "Merry Christmas" plates are unpacked, and I am enjoying my first cup of Stumptown coffee in one of the mugs that has a picture of a candle lit tree in front of a fireplace.

Nice.

Autumn is truly my favorite time of year and this year in particular seemed to make its appearance and then be over with much too quickly. That being said, I am extremely thankful for the holly-day season that help to fill the colder, bleaker days with wonder and fun while the last of the leaves make their way to the ground. It is also the perfect time of year to practice being "present" as well as initiating a state of perplexedly within myself. My daily "to do" list is usually quite full. Add to that all of the wonderful things that one would like do do during this special season, being able to stay "present" and enjoy every moment with our loved ones and friends is easier said than done. However I believe it IS possible and so worth it! The days of the season then contribute to our mental stash of fond recollections instead of despair over what could-of, should-of, might-of happened differently.

What about holiday music?
I would take a guess that the majority of people dread when their favorite radio station becomes overtaken by scores of "Jolly-Holly" music.
It doesn't have to be that way! I treat myself each year to a new CD (this year it's Pink Martini's new Joy to the World album) and then rely on Pandora (it's free on your computer) to supplement. That's right, you are the DJ that chooses the music that suits your soul and spirit. I have come up with a few stations that are just right for me. Chanticleer (Holiday) and Winter Solstice Radio both play quiet reflective, Gregorian type of music, reminiscent of what one might hear as they quietly slip into an old church on a Christmas Eve. I also love the Trans-Siberian Orchestra (Holiday) station. Who would think that electric guitars, violins and some very impressive drumming would create such magical Holiday music?

Every so often I need to re-read a book that helps me along with my life's journey and one that comes to mind during this time is year is The Precious Present by Spencer Johnson.

During this magical month I plan to give myself the gift the moments.
And I will embrace all of them!

iJourney: Learning to 'Presence'

2010-05-04T06:13:00.000-07:00

iJourney: Learning to 'Presence'

It's Spring

2010-03-28T06:22:00.000-07:00

It's springtime here in the NW.
I need to remind myself of that.
It fascinates me to watch the plants push through the soil so that they may enjoy the sunshine, the rain and all that it means to be a living, growing entity on this planet. Less than a month ago as I began the process of pulling old dead weeds and doing some general cleaning up in the yard I wondered what would pop up. We moved into this old cottage after spring had sprung, so I had no idea what to expect.
From the appearance of things, I was not overly optimistic.
Everything looked dead and barren. Difficult to imagine lush, flowering green-ness.
We cleared away a small area where the ivy had totally "taken over", hiding planters that had once held beautiful plants and a couple other shrubs that looked barren and leafless as well. It seemed as if the ivy had won and that we were too late.
But wait...was that small buds on the lifeless appearing plants?
Life busting through to show itself after a winter of dormancy and several seasons of the ivy dominating the space.

As the soil thaws and softens around our cottage little shoots are appearing everywhere from slumbering annuals. After these last few days of sunshine and some light rain its as if they are stretching and reaching for the heavens.
I definitely need to remind myself of this miracle.
It happens every spring.
We each have a beautiful bud within our selves that may not be outwardly visible. But it's there and when the timing is right and the conditions encourage it...it can and will burst forth to fulfill it's destiny of growth and blossoming.
Wow.

Faith

2010-02-28T07:10:00.000-08:00

Faith.
It comes in all shapes and sizes. Some folks have it. Some do not. Some (like me) have it occasionally and question where it has gone when it is needed most.
My grandparents (of Mexican heritage) had a STRONG sense of faith. It was evident in everything they did. Their home had crosses, bibles and rosaries in each room, and more importantly it was demonstrated in how they lived. Granted it (their faith) seemed to be a a tad bit fearful to me at times, but it also seemed loving and protective as well.
Granma Chavez KNEW God would take care of everything. Period. Our job as humans was to not screw things up and piss him off. I remember her telling my brothers that their black light poster of Jimi Hendrix hung up in their room would most surely bring the wrath of God down upon them and cause them to turn to the devil,use drugs and do other crazy things.
I was usually exempt from any of the you are going to hell and damnation talk. My grandparents allowed me to see the softer, more nurturing side of their faith. Maybe that was the side I wanted to see as well?
I especially loved the quiet way my grandfather blessed his morning coffee and sugar. He would whisper a few words and wave his hand with the sign of a cross over his cup. Then he would repeat the ritual and bless the toast and jam and of course blessed the fact that I was sitting there beside them for a morning cup of coffee.
I liked that part of their religion.
We never blessed anything in our house growing up and in fact were not permitted to even THINK that that could be a "higher source of power" (other than my father).
So the fact that my grandfather blessed his morning toast and coffee and me was pretty cool to observe.
They (my grandparents) had always been Catholic, until they decided to join the Pentecostal "church". It sort of freaked out most of the family as it appeared to change their belief system a bit. And cost them alot more money.
However I have always felt (even at a young age) that one's spiritual journey cannot be dictated by others.
Despite the change of church affiliation my grandparents FAITH remained strong and loving (to me at least) for the duration of their lives.
Their car had a bumper sticker that said that "God was their Co-Pilot".
Thank goodness because as they got older they sure needed someone who knew what they were doing as they navigated their car through the streets and freeways in Arizona!

Jobs That I Have Held

2010-02-21T05:36:00.000-08:00

I just received yet another, "Sorry you do not have the qualifications that are needed for this job" notices. It was for a friggin cashier job!! I can smile, I can tally up items, I don't drool in public why I can even count back change the old fashion way!
Not qualified.
It seems amazing that I find myself in this situation since I had been gamefully employed for 37 years! And not just at one occupation either.
My very first job was working for my older brother who mowed lawns on weekends. Our dad let him use our super nice, put it in gear and it drives itself all you have to do is steer it, lawn mower. He would make $5 a lawn. He hired me to be the "official edger and sweeper of sidewalks" oh, an maybe run around and pick up the extra tuffs of grass the lawn mower left behind. For this very physical part of the lawn service that he provided I earned 50 cents. That's right 50 cents. Thank goodness back then 50 cents went fairly far at the candy counter in Sprouse-Ritz. While that position did not inflate my piggy bank it did instill a strong work ethic that would at times plague me throughout my work history.
NO MATTER WHAT I GOT PAID, OR IF I WAS WORKING FOR THE BIGGEST JERK IN THE WORLD I WOULD ALWAYS DO MY BEST.
I didn't baby-sit much, diapers caused me a lot of grief, so my next job was at a Cafeteria style restaurant. The older people would ask me to please dish up a bit more, and the owner would come and level off the peas and say we aren't giving it away! I did not last long there. I then became the first girl chicken cook at Kentucky Fried Chicken. What an honor. I loved that job. I got to take home lots of left overs, my brother (the younger one) LOVED the way I always smelled like fried chicken. I usually would take some chicken to some friends whose mother was too busy selling/using drugs to ever have actual food in their house. After that I worked for a nice man named Harley who owned a gas station. I changed/cleaned and gapped spark plugs there and pumped gas (when they had it). It was during the "gas shortages" of the 70's and some days we could only pump for one hour.
Good times.
As I wander down the memory lane of my work history I realize I might expedite things by listing jobs that I have held in the style that Johnny Cash did in that song he sang about the car he built from stolen parts? When he went to register the vehicle he just had to sing out all of the years that it was.
Guess I will "sing" all of the jobs I have held to the best of my recollection and in chronological order. Here goes:
Lawn Care Assistant
Baby-sitter
Gas Station Attendant
Server~Furrs Cafeteria
Kentucky Fried Chicken Cook
Montgomery Wards~ Salesgirl in the "Missy Dept"
Bank Teller
School Bus Driver
Freelance Writer (primarily interviews of people who think they are interesting)
Teacher Aide
Substitute teacher K-12
Community Relations Director Chamber of Commerce
Bookseller/Barista
Phone line operator at a hotel
"Temp" (this had me loading trucks at a Walgreen's loading dock and filing papers at a loan shark place)
Attendance Secretary at a Charter High School
Server at an exclusive Golf Club
Barista/cook at a coffee shop
Salesperson at a fancy department store (holly-day help)
Medical Supply Salesperson
Waitress at a not as nice golf resort
Starbuckian Barisita
Teacher Aide to some very smart 10th graders
Flower delivery person
Manager of Gift Shop
Barista (did this one for free drinks instead of pay)
Owner (for much too short of a time in my life) of a fantastic coffee place
Barista/manager
Drive-up Espresso Barista
Boys and Girls Club Assistant Cook/Teen educator
Vitamin Sales person
R/V washer ($1 a foot) what a deal!
Receptionist at a fancy spa/salon (owner nicknamed Cruella DeVille)
Server at a greasy spoon "landmark" cafe...

After all of these "work experiences" I find myself not even being able to get an interview for a grocery cashier position! I owned my own coffee shop less than eight years ago, and I recently was asked if I even remembered what an espresso drink was and how to make it.
My wallet and non-existent savings dictates that I better forget all of these wonderful? memories of jobs that I have held and get busy finding a publisher.

Spontaneous Memories

2010-02-19T14:37:00.000-08:00

Spontaneous memories. They happen when you least expect it. Guess that's why they are spontaneous.
I had one this morning.
We were at Floyds, one of our favorite coffee stops. (lucky for us coffee junkies there are many of them here in Portland)
Back to the spontaneous memory... we are sipping our "fluffy" 16 oz latte and in walks a mailman wearing a pith? helmet. I think that's what they are called. Immediately my mind flashes back to the 60's and my residence at the time in Anaheim, California and a little girl who spent alot of time home alone sick. (that would be me)
We had the NICEST MAILMAN EVER. He wore one of those type of hats (pith?) and pushed a cart full of our neighborhoods mail up and down the "keyholes" in that small suberb of Los Angeles. It is almost always sunny in southern California, and when it rained he had a little plastic baggie type thing to keep his pith dry. Oh~and for those of you who do no know what a "keyhole" is, that is what we used to call a cul-de-sac a back then. Well, the shape of it sort of resembles a keyhole doesn't it and it sure sounded better than "dead end"?
O.K. back to the NICEST MAILMAN EVER. I wasn't allowed to open the door to anyone when I was home by myself so to pass the hours in between watching Captain Kangaroo and the Beany and Cecil Show I would wait by the door for the mail to arrive. We had one of those slots that he shoved the mail through. My intention was to freak him out by talking (in an eerie voice of course) to him while he was shoving the mail in our door.
Except he never would get freaked. He was much too kind, too easy going. He would ask how I was doing and tell me to feel better. He knew all of our names.
I think his name was Barney or something like that. All I know is that for the ten years that he delivered our mail he always had a kind word for all of us ruffians that terrorized the keyhole.
Now the ice cream man was another story...

Christmas Eve at My Aunt Chita's

2009-12-14T09:30:00.000-08:00

Christmas Eve at my Aunt Chita's house was THE place to be, at least the place I always wanted to be. I KNEW I could count on certain things to happen. Since we usually lived in a different state, the times I was lucky enough to be there it was if I became an instant celebrity. EVERYONE (that being more cousins than I could keep count of) stopped by my aunt's house on Christmas Eve for her "open casa". When they heard that we were in town as well then I could be assured of plenty of squeals and hugs. Who needs presents when a child starving for love got more than she could ever wish for at my Aunt Chita's? It's funny how Christmas memories can blur together however the ones that I was lucky enough to spend at my aunt and uncle's house are unblurable.
She liked no I should say LOVED Christmas decorations. Every inch of her small home would be decorated, including elves, snowmen and reindeer in the bathroom! One year my parents hung glass ornaments from the ceiling at our house in California. My aunt liked it so much that she adopted the same idea. (I personally always liked staring up at them and seeing my face look all goofy)
It was always very comforting to me to could count on the decorations, the family, the FOOD (especially the tamales) and her saying every year that "THIS IS THE LAST YEAR I'M GOING TO DO THIS". Christmas Eve at my Aunt Chita's is what I like to muse about especially when I hear folks getting all frustrated about the shopping they have to do, the crowds, the this the that.

Thank you auntie for the very special place it has in my heart.
I miss it as I do you.

THANKS-GIVING Two Wonderful Words

2009-11-25T05:04:00.000-08:00

Thanks-Giving
I am going to try an old standby that teachers use when they need to have their young students do a language assignment around the holidays. They tell their students to write a "poem" beginning with the first letter of the word (this would be Thanks-giving in my case).
Luckily I will NOT be grading myself on this little exercise.

T his is my favorite time of year when leaves whirl, swirl and blow crazily about creating the best kind of messiness.
H ow can I show my gratitude?
A m I living my life to it's fullest potential?
N uts remind me of the fall season.
K ites also remind me of this time of year, and Kindness, (which we could use more of).
S hucks, this is more difficult than I thought...glad I am not grading myself, at least I would remember to be kind.

G reat ideas become truly magnificent when allowed to emerge and take flight.
I hope that by this time next year I am not fiddling around with a word game such as this and am being magnificent with my dreams.
V is an interesting letter, I personally love the letter Z however I have a "V" here which reminds me of Voting and how grateful I am that the people of our country voted the way they did the last Presidential election. YES WE CAN.
I nteresting the way my thoughts have bounced around here, I hope to stay committed and involved in doing what I can to help this be a better world.
N o more excuses...(that's from Wayne Dyer's latest book)
G ive...may I do that more, for it is in Giving that we truly receive.

God bless us everyone.
Happy ThanksGiving.

A Trail of Ant Tears

2009-11-20T15:40:00.000-08:00

So what am I supposed to do? It is November and these itty bitty little black ants have decided to invade my kitchen space.
I do not like to kill.
Anything.
However, I also do not like four legged insects cruising all around my cooking/eating space.
These little guys aren't taking any food, but they are in my dishwasher, on the counter, marching on and on and on to some undisclosed location.
And some of them are not making it home because I am killing them.
I had hoped that they would figure out that some of them were not making it back to wherever they were headed to, and then perhaps put out an alarm to each other with a warning to STAY OFF OF THIS LADIES COUNTER AND OUT OF HER DISHWASHER.
It hasn't happened yet.
I am calling it the "Trail of Tears" because like I mentioned before I do not like to kill anything and I am just smooshing them and then rinsing them off down into the drain. I also confess that I have windexed them. They are much too small to try and relocate to an outside destination (something that I did try and do during the summer months).
I have no idea if they scream in agony, or if they travel in families...in fact, as a child one of my favorite stories of all times was called "The City Under the Back Steps" and it was about, you guessed it...Ants.
Maybe I should go to confession or something like that as I obviously feel bad about this situation. I have asked my guides/angels to PLEASE make them stay away as this is really starting to depress me.
My Trail of Ant Tears.

Drugstores

2009-10-16T06:46:00.000-07:00

Are they even called that anymore? I know they exist...I go in one every time I need an RX filled, and the amazement I feel each time I walk through the doors never ceases. Amazement that a person can find just about anything they could EVER need/want/dream of IN ONE STORE.
And for only $9.99!
Looking to add a bit of zen-like feng shui to your environment? Buy a fountain for only $9.99. Add $2 bucks to that price and it will emit mood fog and play Gregorian chants by the chipmunks as well.
Need something new to wear? You can purchase five t-shirts (different colors!) for only $9.99.
Want a souvenir from someplace? The travel isle offers shot glasses, spoons and key chains. They even offer from neighboring states or countries, just in case you forgot to pick something up during your wordly travels.
How about FOOD? Candy, chips, soda, milk, hard boiled eggs, Jimmy Dean sausages are plentiful, did I mention candy?? Unfortunately dark chocolates usually cannot be located in a drugstore.
Want to beautify yourself? One stop shopping in that department. Pick up a magazine, and read all about it, then tootle over to the make-up department and wah-lah instantaneous beautification can be yours.
And smell good...the drugstore has you covered there, from deodorant to fancy perfumes/aftershaves and colognes. And only $9.99 each!!

Suffice to say that drugstores are not given the kudos they deserve.

Brings to mind the lyrics from a song from the sixties called "DOWNTOWN" by Petula Clark. "When your alone and life is making you lonely, You can always go Downtown. When you've got worries..."

You can always go...to Walgreens.

My 1995 Buick is Dead

2009-10-12T13:49:00.000-07:00

So it finally happened, at least I think it did. My 1995 Buick Regal 4 door Sedan died. 241,000 miles and she was one tired car. Just to make sure we do have a "second opinion" stopping by to listen to the old gal to see if she is as bad as it sounds. She is making lots of LOUD grinding, won't idle, spewing up steam sounds.

It does not look good.

She took care of me to the very end. Broke down just one mile away from the cottage. Now she sits in the driveway awaiting the "second opinion". I emptied out my belongings because deep down I know I will not drive her again.I cleaned her up one last time reflecting on how good of car she truly had been.
She (I never gave her a specific name) was a gift from some good friends who knew I really needed a car. I had set my sights on a cool little motorcycle, however, they stepped in and just gave me the car...title and all. My dog Lucy was happy that I got the car instead of the bike. I have to admit she was not my "style" except that she was free so I guess the universe knew better than I what my "style" should be. She looked like a retired "snowbird" car, (snowbirds are OLD PEOPLE who flock to the southwest each winter in search of warmer weather). In some respects it was kind of neat to have a car that looked like that...other drivers tend to give a wide margin of error for cars driven by OLD PEOPLE. Expectations of being a good driver are much lower for a gramma-type car or as a friend liked to call it a "stealth mobile". She actually could clip along quite nicely however she didn't draw attention to herself like a sporty little red car would of, i.e. not one speeding ticket.

I remember the first decal I stuck on her in hopes of giving her a tad bit more personality. It was a cool phoenix type of bird. More were added, reflecting various parts of my life that I wished to share with the world, or at least other drivers. I especially like how the car looked when I put my surfboard on top. The first board I had was sort of strange looking, but it didn't matter, it was a a surfboard and when I strapped it on I felt a bit more alive since I knew I was on my way to scare the living crap out of myself.

The car brought out the best in people.

As I mentioned before the car was given to me. That in itself does not happen to many people. Louie and Nancy, I bet you didn't think that I would have her for 241,00 miles! Thank you for your generosity. It didn't stop there. The kind things that happened to me because of the car are almost too numerous to list. A Starbucks customer giving me $100 to help me with a move to the coast. Little did he know that the car desperately needed brakes, and I had a brother to put them on, just no money to buy the brake pads. A friend bought (via telephone and credit card #) me an alternator in a small town in Quartzsite AZ when she (the car) broke down. It was 110 degrees and some very kind people towed me to a patch of shade and put the alternator in since I did not have the money to have a mechanic install it. And that is just two instances. I had many more.

It was situations like that, that made the car so special.

The first dent was by my daughter Jessi...it wasn't a bad dent, however now she looks like she has been in a demolition derby. I have to admit I put in most of them (dents)and for that I apologize old gal...(at least your rear still looks good!). As I was vacuuming her for the last time this morning I have to pat myself on the back that no matter how beat up she looked on the outside, I always kept her clean, and kept up with the oil changes.

I will miss her, she moved me from Tucson, Arizona to Seaside, Oregon then up to Astoria,on to Portland, back down to Tuscon then returned us safely to Portland.
No wonder she got worn out. She did get vandalized once. The crummy thieves broke a rear window and got a poorly hidden purse and laptop. Lesson learned.

I actually felt a few tears as I took the last bit of personal "stuff" from the car. It was a weird looking piece of dried seaweed that was in the rear console area of the car. It was given to me by an artist when I had a coffeeshop and looked like a large sperm.

I know the car was just a bunch of nuts and bolts, metal and rubber, however the memories run deep. Friends safely carried, moves safely made.

Good bye 1995 Buick Regal 4 Door Sedan.

Hello Mini Cooper.

Fireworks

2009-07-05T11:49:00.001-07:00

It's the Fourth of July and certainly a time of celebration. Let me begin with the fact that I LOVE living in the United States of America and am grateful for all that I have and for all that we can be. I live in a free country where anything is possible and a person is only limited by the size of their dreams. We are an intelligent, peace loving nation (unless, perhaps you are a Republican) who have embraced the dreams of our forefathers so long ago and want to see this country rise to be one of inspiration to the rest of the free world.
Which brings me to what I want to muse about today.
Fireworks.
I know, I know, by speaking negatively about them it is if I am attacking warm apple pie and ice cream. One of my personality quirks is that I want to know WHY we do what we do. I am the type of person that when I was selected to direct our church's Sunday School Christmas play, I researched and put together a play to help the congregation learn WHY we have a green tree, and WHY we put lights up, and so on and so on...
I don't MIND doing what everyone else is doing and have done forever, however it needs to make some sort of sense to me.
When I make a pros and cons list as to why we have fireworks, the cons far outweigh the pros. The pros: memories of family get togethers watching the fireworks. Let's see I am sure their must be more. Oh yeah, the job creation for the companies that make and sell the fireworks. Let's see, perhaps overtime pay for all the people who have to work to take care of the injuries related to the fireworks. I will try to think of some more, if there are any.
Now to the cons: Noisy/they scare our pets and other animals/they burn fingers,hands/they start fires/they litter our beautiful planet/they appear to represent ROCKETS AND WAR/they freak out veterans/they are expensive.
It would be nice if, as a spiritually evolving country, we could come up with an alternative way to celebrate our freedom. Perhaps hold gatherings where people give thanks for our plentiful water and beautiful parks instead of shooting up fireworks that literally terrorize animals, litter the planet and all for a moment of visual pleasure. Perhaps people could take a look around and notice the natural beauty that surrounds them. And if what they see lacks beauty then maybe a group effort to help to create something beautiful would be the ultimate thanks and celebration. Think about it, we are using visual reminders of WAR and DESTRUCTION to celebrate our Independence and birth of a country. I would like to think that we could do better.
Maybe a baby start would bet eliminating all private fireworks and just having large displays? If they are over water then only the fish will be terrorized and polluted.
It's a thought.

HUMANS!!!!

2009-05-30T17:39:00.000-07:00

It's time for a bit of a rant...maybe I have said this before but it is REALLY DIFFICULT to be a spiritual warrior when a person is SURROUNDED by greedy, insensitive HUMANS!
Not all humans that I encounter fall into the aforementioned category. This rant is not about them.
I believe I blogged about my love of sampling. I just returned from a visit to one of my favorite "natural" stores and as usual they had some good samples out! Delicious pears, gelato, they even had little pieces of imported English white cheddar cheese. There were FIVE little chunks just sitting there, tempting us shoppers. I was politely waiting to try one of the little buggers and the lady in front of me somehow managed to SWOOP UP ALL FIVE OF THEM!! She carefully put them in the palm of her hand, not making eye contact with those of us waiting to try one. May BAD CHEESE KARMA follow her! (I know, I know that is NOT the way of a spiritually enlightened person...but she took FIVE FRIGGIN PIECES!!!
While I am ranting I will bring up my latest dealings with Craigslist. Firstly, I LOVE Craigslist! I consider myself a practically professional Craigslister.
To make a long story very short, I bought a screen door, we painted it, went to hang it up and realized I totally blew it and got the wrong size! We are out like $65 so I figure I might as well try and recoup as much as possible by trying to sell the new door on Craigslist. I am offering a deal..it's new, it's painted and I am asking $45. A seemingly nice man in a very nice newer SUV came and bought it...OOPS he is short $5...is that O.K.? I say...well alright...frankly I was happy to sell it. He did not seem like the type of joe who would purposely not bring enough $. However LATER he calls to ask what type of paint we used on the door. Trying to be a generous nice human AND wanting to give him the opportunity to actually pay my asking price for the door, (since he said he "accidently" did not bring the full amount) I tell him I will GIVE him the rest of the quart of paint, that was bought and used only on the door ($13). He said that would be awesome and he would throw in a couple of dollars for it when he came back to get the paint. I was hoping he would pay the other $5 that he skimped out on, and perhaps $2 more???
He handed my boyfriend a little wad of dollars.
Total $4.
It's just my opinion but I think he was being a bit of a schomoe! May nickle-dime karma follow him!!!
Again that isn't too spiritual of me is it?
I am working on it.
You know, being a decent HumanBean.
We did get a really nice rowing machine today off of Craigslist. It was worth the total amount they were asking, which yes, we did bring along.

One Determined Duck

2009-05-06T06:25:00.000-07:00

While driving the other day I had a very emotional experience.
I was in a hurry, trying to do one last errand before getting on the freeway to make it to the other side of town. Nothing unusual...and by the amount of vehicles on the road, the expressions of the drivers and the honking going on, there were many others like me with the same agenda.
I had just gotten off a four lane off-ramp, was waiting to merge onto a six lane street when I saw her.
One mama duck with six or so little ones attempting to cross the same six lane street.
I had a stop light and could see her as she scuttled, then stopped, scuttled, then stopped with her ducklings gathering near or underneath her each time she paused.
The other traffic, on my three lanes of the six lane street, was not supposed to stop and I watched with my four way flashers going as she somehow made it to the middle of the street safely.
I was going to jump out to frantically wave to make people stop, but there was no time.
She was one determined duck.
My light turned green, and I had to turn all the while holding my breath, saying whatever prayers I could to my angels, to duck angels and mama angels to help her make it across the next three lanes.
After I had run my errand I was afraid to look to see if I would see little feathers on the street.
Keep in mind this all happened at an off- ramp off of Interstate Five and at one of the busiest intersections I usually encounter AND at afternoon rush hour!
While I was looking for feathers (and very grateful to not see any evidence) I could not fatham WHY the duck HAD to take her little ones across that street to what appeared to be the Interstate??!
Only after using the on-ramp was I able to see a beautiful pond that looked like it was a "duck sanctuary" that was underneath the freeway.
So I learned a few things that day. Or at least remembered a few things.
Firstly...IF you are in traffic, driving and someone is not going when you THINK they should be going. Forget the Angry Horn!!
They could have car trouble, be having a seizure, saying a prayer or WAITING FOR A MAMA DUCK TO CROSS THE STREET WITH HER BABIES!!!
Secondly...She knew what she needed to do. Granted it appeared to be a very crazy idea, and the timing could of been better, however she needed to get her babies to the water and flying was not an option for them yet.
We all KNOW what we need to do in our own lives, and there is no guarantee that what we need to do will be easy.
I will forever remember the image of that mama duck doing what she needed to do regardless of the obstacles that appeared in her way.
She was one determined duck.

Dogs Are Cool

2009-03-24T14:44:00.000-07:00

Lately I have been spending the majority of my time with dogs.
I find their personalities easy to be around...they stick to the basics in life, and they do not know how to act phony, unlike us HUMANS.
Do I sound bitter?
Maybe. It's just that life is just too friggin short to "try" and figure out what is on any humans mind.
If you don't like something. Growl already.
Something pleases you. Wag your tail.
It's simple really.
So why do HUMANS have to make things so complicated?
And dogs do not require a whole lot of maintenance. Feed regularly, an occasional scratch behind the ears, maybe a bath or a good brushing once in awhile. Yearly check ups, oh and timely visits outside to go poop. If you choose to throw in a few extra doses of love and respect...you will have the type of friend that you could only hope to be.
Yea, dogs are cool.

I Like Sampling

2009-03-22T17:41:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was THE BEST DAY EVER for samples!!! I know it might seem silly, but a good freebie can truly brighten my day. There actually is an art to sampling if you think about it.
If I want company on my excursions to Costco, all I have to do to entice someone is to remind them about ALL THE SAMPLES there.
Timing is everything, if you go too late in the work day, the nice cart people are winding things down and ready to hit the road, irgo zero to no samples. If you go on a Saturday or Sunday, you have to fight the shopping carts and other samplers and frankly it just isn't worth it.
So Rule One is:
*timing is everything
Usually the people cooking and handing out the samples are very sweet so you "should" allow them to give their little spiel about the product, mumble something asking where is it located...blah blah blah, maybe even grab the product (if you are a insecure sampler or perhaps have actually taken seconds) then stash it on another aisle.
Rule Two:
*be polite, even if it gags you, smile and move on. After all they did not invent the product.
Rule Three:
*keep it quick...
smile, grab and go.

Let's get back to WHY yesterday was so awesome for sampling.
I did not go to Costco.
I went to a fancy organic grocery store. A person on a limited budget could almost get a complete, tasty meal at one of these stores!
Seriously.
Saturday and Sundays are usually THE ONLY days that these type of stores will put out samples. Of course they are hoping to entice the more upscale shopper, but heck, who needs to know if you are actually buying or not? A good day of sampling will lift anyones spirits, especially if you are on a BUDGET.
The best part about these stores is that they do not expect to banter back and forth with you so the sampling experience can be one of quiet joy.
I went to TWO stores yesterday....
Store One I enjoyed *Organic Potato & Garlic Soup with fresh bread. (there were 4 different types of bread to choose from!) WITH whipped Irish Butter, I also had Chocolate/Cherry Bread Pudding, (warmed up of course) and a piece of Organic Cinnamon Swirly Bread.
YUM.
Oh and a small little cuppa joe (organic of course)
Store Two
I had PIZZA.
And it was good. I tried to snatch one for my boyfriend who was off shopping in a different store...which brings me to:
Rule Four:
Do not hesitate! Granted one must not appear to be greedy, but if there is no one around...JUST DO IT! If you DO grab two and someone is watching...be prepared for the evil eye, in which case quickly escape down another aisle.
Happy Sampling!

Looking for a Rental....

2009-02-25T09:44:00.000-08:00

We are looking for a new place to live. We have to rent. We are clean, (almost too much so), hardworking, pay the rent on time, improve the rental tenants. We also have one dog and one cat, who are generally more respectful of property than most humans. And yet, why is it next to impossible to find a place? Oh, there are a kazillion rentals out there, most do not allow any type of four legged creature at all, AND if they do, be prepared to pay boo-koo extra. Now we do not mind this, and understand that there are many unrespectful humans and animals out there and that these extra fees help the landlord protect his property. What about protection for the people who are paying your mortgage? That's right, your TENANTS.
It is shocking to see a picture, (become optimistic even) read the advertisement, and then actually go and see the property. Rentals ask for $1000 down/ $400 cleaning fee and yet leave the person paying all of the fees drawers full of old food, appliances not cleaned, or screens coming off of doors and windows. One place advertised a seperate garage...and neglected to mention that most of the roof had caved in.
Nice.
Seriously, if I was in "the dating mode" I would be VERY scared to meet someone on line if they represented themselves as "honestly" as people who advertise their rentals do. More times than not, the pictures of the places are old perhaps taken before time had taken it's toll on it, or enhanced by a digital guru.
The search will continue.
SOMEWHERE there has got to be a place to call home where doors work, has decent sized rooms, neighbors who are not crazy (crazy in a good way, not scary crazy) a yard for our dog to sniff around in peace and windows for our cat to watch birds from. That's not too much to ask is it? Oh and perhaps hardwood floors. We will pay our rent on time, keep it clean, practice our music at respectful times and even plant flowers in the yard.

Faith

2009-02-03T13:59:00.000-08:00

What is your definition of a Fresh Start?

“Every new beginning comes from some other beginnings end”….

Doors close and a window opens (or so they say). It seems that sometimes the doors in my life have not only closed, they have friggin slammed shut, hitting me on the backside, propelling me forward, but… to what?

I know. Another door may, possibly, o.k. WILL open (usually one that I have not considered going through) and I find myself wondering if I really want to go through this "stuff" again. I would like to say that I take a "leap of faith", however it is more like I stick my foot in the water and wiggle around a toe or two before figuring out that I just need to CANNON BALL it and jump in.

I have lived in fine homes and been comfortable financially. I have also had to sell my favorite possessions on Craigslist to pay rent and used a credit card to buy groceries. Faith gets me through the grey times. I call them "grey" because no matter how bad it seems I have never looked at a situation as being totally dark. Something deep inside tells me that with just a glimmer of hope the grey will continue to lighten and things WILL get better. Eventually.

The animals that share this world with us do not vex themselves as to whether they will have a home to live in or a meal to eat. Granted, sometimes these things are difficult to obtain, however they KNOW that they will be provided for. I wish I was more animal like at times. I guess all I can do is to remind myself that the next time I begin to use energy to stress or worry about what could, would or should be I just need to step outside and watch a bird zooming or a squirrel leaping from tree to tree and hopefully that will snap me out of my crazy human thinking.

Relationships

2009-01-15T11:27:00.000-08:00

You KNOW you are in a committed relationship when you let your partner share the bathroom with you.
It's easy to share the bedroom (well for most), the living room, easybeezy, the kitchen has it's fair share of "I do it this way moments", however the bathroom, now THAT'S another story.
It's funny how when a relationship is new a person spends much of their time attempting to pretend that they are not 100% human...example: burping, passing "gas", snotty sneezing and doing other slightly gross but very necessary body functions. Unlike the animal kingdom, we DISGUISE the way we look and smell until we can be sure that the person we are trying to impress is hooked.
And then it happens. You let a little "toot" and own up to it, maybe turn red, or giggle it off, however the main point is that you actually let it out instead of knotting up your insides trying to hold it in. That's the first step, and I believe a truly big one. At this point you know that the relationship is progressing to the point of telling your significant other that they have food in their teeth, a bugger in their nose, or that they have a bad case of halitosis. O.K. maybe that will take a bit more time.
So you are sharing living quarters and starting to relax. Except in the bathroom. Some couples never actually get to the point of sharing the bathroom, and that's o.k.
I'm not talking about figuring out who gets what shelf in the medicine cabinet, or even the save water shower with a friend concept. You know where this is going. That's right, the ability to actually be able to use the toilet WHILE your partner is in the shower or busy doing make up. This is HUGE.
So in pondering the benefits of living in a very small 700 sq ft, one bathroom, one closet apartment I have come to the conclusion that it will either make or break a relationship. Time tells all and as the expression goes, you can run but you cannot hide.... Who needs a diamond ring to "tell her how much you care". If your partner has endured all of the above and more and STILL thinks you are beautiful/handsome/awesome...
THAT MUST BE LOVE.

The Domino Effect

2009-01-12T05:31:00.000-08:00

It happens all the time. With me it usually starts out first thing in the morning. Forget the "good intentions" of beginning my day, waking up slowly and easing into it with a bit of quiet reflection...
First the cat either decides to lick my arm (with her sand-paper little tongue) which in turn wakes up the dog, whom we REALLY try not to wake up until at the very EARLIEST 5:45 a.m.
Which then means the dog will start her click-click click-yty pacing until someone gets her ready to go outside.
All of that wakes up MY own addiction for a cup of Stumptown coffee...SO might as well stay awake, feed the dog and start the coffee.
It doesn't end there.
Remember the afore mentioned "domino effect"? Keeping that in mind I should know not to attempt something too technical like entering something in my planner and then deciding to White it Out. White Out is great, and is a remarkable invention, however one should note that if one drops an extra blob they should NOT use their finger to wipe it up. I now have FIVE fingers that have traces of whiteness all over them as the stuff does NOT rinse out well. It is not as evil as super glue, however it does stick and spread when it comes in contact with water.
Oh well.
I guess I could hope that this "domino effect" could turn into really good, great and fun things happening one after the other throughout my day.
For some reason it usually doesn't happen that way, does it?

45minutes later...
It, (being the White Out) is on the soap pump, and on the faucet handles, oh and I found a smudge on the door knob.
And so it goes.

These are a Few of My Favorite Things

2008-12-10T05:30:00.000-08:00

French pressed Stumptown coffee.
The smell of evergreens in our very cold, damp little Portland apt.
Hand-made snowflakes silently moving from the ceiling (it FEELS cold enough to snow in here!)
Decorating a gingerbread house.
Kazoo caroling. (can't sing)
Colorful lights.
People being kind,
loving
and jolly.
Music of the season...sort of picky though
I like the "croon and swoon" Rosemary Clooney era AND
Trans Siberian Orchestra AND
Rennaisance era Christmas carols
Baking
Watching Classic Holiday movies with my dog, my kat, my partner... and a warm blanket.

Remembering.

"Never a Christmas morning
Never the old year ends
But someone thinks of someone
Old days, old times, old friends."

These are just a few of my Favorite Things

The Automotive Philosopher

2008-09-30T17:53:00.000-07:00

"You do not need to be sick to get better."

Now I think that sounds very "profound". Especially since I saw it all bold and out there written in funky black all capitol letters. You know, the boards that automotive places use to advertise their specials. Churches are also known to put "profound" messages for all to see utilizing the same funky black all capitol letters. I think the signs in front of the automotive places probably get read more. The words may be similar, however they just seem less judgmental located in front of a building that has broken down cars versus a "come in my brethren" pristine building.

So how DO those mechanics get to be so wise and articulate? Maybe it's because as a rule they are much deeper philosophically than outward appearances?? Hmmm working on a car WOULD give a person ample time to ponder the deeper questions of the universe. And cars do not jibber jabber back at you which allows for a quieter meditative atmosphere.

Maybe I should learn how to work on a car so I can find the answer?

In the meantime next time you drive by one of those automotive repair places take the time to READ their message.

You just might learn something.

**Just read a new one that I could identify with:
"Procrastinate now~don't put it off!"

here's another one: (same mechanic, different day)
"Never rationalize anything that feels wrong"

can you believe it? 11/22/09 this one is from the same mechanic!:
"Never surrender your dreams to noisy negatives."

13 February 2011
I had to add a couple more philosophical musings to this blog!

"You don't just deal with adversity you use it to propel you forward."

"I hate the moment in an argument when I realize I am wrong."

Our personal mechanic Jake may not offer to the universe wise words of wisdom (at least not on a public board that I know of) however, we are most grateful that he and his team are the best with our vehicles ailments.

Station Five... continued

2008-09-23T14:25:00.000-07:00

So I wrote about my "trauma" as a child at Station Five. Remember the summer swim lessons? The angst of not going on to Station Six or Seven?

Sometimes my body feels like I am the Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz with no frickin oil! So, my daughter, knowing the benefits of a water workout, has bought me 20 visits to the neighborhood pool. That's right, they call it lap swim. Oh joy.

After careful consideration I figured what do I have to lose except the muffin top? I was older. I was wiser. And I KNEW I could do the lap thing AND keep my face out of the water if I wanted to. It's called a backstroke. So I agreed and embarked on overcoming the Station Five mentality that has haunted me for so long.

First morning I get into the SLOW lane with an elderly lady and another woman. I thought that it would be a "safe" lane to "test the waters" with to gauge my fitness level and ability. Technically one is supposed to swim on the right, sort of like driving a car, and go in a circle. I lowered myself into the water and started doing a little make-shift side stroke (with my head above the water of course) allowing enough space behind the elderly woman, or so I thought. Before I knew it, she had zoomed to one end of the pool and was heading back... right at me...on my side! She could not see me as she was doing the backstroke, MY stroke! I quickly did an about face and paddled back to the edge of the pool. Perhaps I would wait until she was done...and my ego had recuperated. Nothing like someone 20 years older (or more!)almost running me over in the slow lane to have a reality check! To make matters worse when I left the pool, I was still in a dither from my ineptness and lack of fitness that I went to use the toilet and automatically put down the protective seat cover paper.
Not good.
Especially when one is still totally wet from being in the pool.

I guess I am going to have to work extra hard to break free from Station Number Five.

Little Pieces

2008-07-19T17:12:00.000-07:00

Little Pieces.
You find them in random places, at random times, and wonder...what does this thing go with?? If anything at all?
It is alone.
It might be a button, that was once a part of a totally cool blouse ensemble. Or perhaps it is a unique looking cap thing that appears to screw onto something, but that couldn't possibly work on anything other than the original something it was meant to be a part of.
Now do you get what I mean?
So what does a person DO with these random little piece of somethings that FOR sure belong somewhere but you just don't know where?
SAVE IT.
Hey that's what the "junk drawer" was specifically designed for right? An old Christmas tin that originally held fruit cake from your great aunt in Florida can hold little doodlidoos. The main thing is NOT to get rid of it. EVER. Because once an object is deemed useless, (and this happens when a person does not know what the purpose is of said object, then we tend to want to pass it on, throw it away. When that moment arrives that you DO decide to pass it on, guaranteed, (and this will happen in a time frame when you will REMEMBER that you got rid of the little piece).
The "Little Piece" mystery of where it belonged will be solved.
You will be moving things around in the attic and see that the decorative screw thingy that holds the shade on to your one of a kind retro lamp...is missing.
Regrettably, you will know that it was YOU who tossed the piece.
A lesson learned.
Save the little pieces.
A button or a small chunk of decorative wood all belong somewhere. Perhaps the little piece will not make it back to it's original home...but it COULD find a new place, substituting for some other misplaced piece, doing it's part in the big scheme of things to bring balance and beauty to the world.

If Thou Art a Writer

2008-07-11T15:36:00.000-07:00

"If thou Art a Writer"
Am I? I enjoy playing around with words. Writing, to me, resembles a jenga puzzle. The right word can help the process, the wrong word, well if you have ever played jenga you know what happens when you choose a incorrect piece. It "all comes tumbling down". I wrote a blog on the art of procrastination. Something I excel at when it comes to embarking on my career as a writer.
Its time to stop the crap, take pen to paper (or in my case fingers to keyboard) and start doing it. I will never know if I can do this thing if I never give myself a shot at it.
I have a quote, that I read every day, (yet have thus far not embraced as a way of life) by Henry David Thoreau. He writes:
If thou art a writer, write as if time were short, for indeed it is short at the longest.
In other words quit messing around and write!
I hearby challenge myself, on this 11th day of July in the year 2008, to a month long commitment of DAILY WRITING! AND it has to be for AT LEAST 1 HOUR. Just so I am making myself perfectly clear:

ONE MONTH
ONE HOUR
EVERYDAY

NO EXCUSES

Lucy the Dog

2008-02-21T15:41:00.000-08:00

Lucy did not know she was a dog.
The furry appearance, wagging tail, wet black nose...all gave the appearance of doggyhood.
Lucy was so much more.
We humans all read about how we can be BETTER at being a human. More kind, more loving, more decent. Isn't it interesting to note that dogs do not need to read up on these things, listen to tapes or attend workshops.
They just are.
A kinder, more loving, more decent more forgiving human I have not encountered.
I consider myself lucky that she blessed my life for ten years. I was a tough "assignment". Lucy witnessed many things that most humans would shake their heads in judging disbelief. Lucy offered unconditional, loving, friendship. She knew when a walk would benefit me more than her, and with a knowing wag of her tail could coax me out of the darkest of thoughts to take her out.
I miss her.
I read somewhere that all dogs go to heaven...
I do not doubt that. Lucy wore her wings every day during her too brief of stay here with me.

Lucy's Favorite Song written for her by Nate, Laura and Shiloh
Tucson, Arizona summer 2005

Lucy Bucy Bucy the Dog.
Lucy Bucy Bucy the Dog.
She likes to take her monkeys everywhere.

She likes to howl in the car.
She thinks shes a real rock star.
She brightens every minute every day...

It doesn't matter how late you sleep,
She greets you in the morning.

It doesn't matter what mood you're in,
She brings you a monkey.

Lucy Bucy Bucy the Dog.
Lucy Bucy Bucy the Dog.
She likes to take her monkeys everywhere.

Resumes

2008-01-28T15:04:00.000-08:00

So what exactly IS a resume? According to the definition in my dictionary it means "a summary". In the quest for gainful employment that summary usually is a one page document of whom you have worked for and how long. It also allows the person for whom the resume is highlighting the opportunity to summarize their key qualifications as well as their education.
Wouldn't it be fun to just "let loose" and write down whatever you wanted without the worries of how it looked on paper?
For instance when one of those dreaded time gaps appears, it would be great to put down what you REALLY did.
Feb 1996-March 1997 Hung out at various relatives and friends houses seeking inner peace and a good tan.
or
May 1995-current Went friggin bonkers at home taking care of the young'uns.
I guess there is no place in the work force for this type of honesty. What if we could answer the application questions with the same type of openess?
Reason for leaving job? The manager/owner/boss was a lunatic!!
Pay that you desire? Enough to get me to Italy at least once a year.
Do you require time and a half for working holidays, weekends or beyond your usual full time hours? No, I do not have a life beyond my work here at "Quickee-Mart" so who needs to make more than minimum wage????
What can you bring to this position? How about you treat me good and I will ditto.

Looking For Work

2008-01-23T14:47:00.000-08:00

Looking for "A JOB" sucks. Especially when due to circumstances happen beyond ones control create what the job industry calls "gaps" in your work history. You know those times in your life when you are busy just surviving at some crap job hoping you can get far enough ahead to find a less crappy job and so on and so on. "Gaps" is actually a nice way to phrase it. However when one has these on their resume and even worse has numerous jobs in a short frame of time... the Human Resource Lord looks upon these as deeming you unsuitable to be worthy of an interview.
I was blessed to be fired the day after Christmas. Yea, the day after the holiday that celebrates all that is good in mankind. (Unless Scrooge was your employers idol) I say I was blessed because this job was one of crappier jobs I have endured. I was released and set free. Yay! Broke, worried, and ego slightly bruised but free. I cannot believe that I actually allowed some small minded person to belittle me and treat me disrespectfully for so long.
My days are now spent filling out forms trying to convince someone out there that I AM WORTHY! I am really! I multitask, have an attention to detail, and a sense of humor and most importantly I will perform my duties to the best of my ability even if my supervisor is an asshole. O.K. I realize that I am using this blog to vent a bit. I believe I am allowed. I got a wrong number today on my cell phone. She sounded official. When she called back again I asked her if somehow she had gotten my name mixed up with another person and did she have a job? I wanted to tell her DON'T HANG UP!! I am worthy to talk to about the position! It was just a wrong number. At that moment I realized that this job search thing was consuming me and that I had to let it go and trust.

Trust that a power much larger than JobDango had my best interests at heart and that all will be as it is meant to be and it will be good, and respectful and fulfilling. Yes, I am worthy.

Station Five

2007-07-26T19:44:00.000-07:00

Funny how memories, especially ones that involve large groups of people, embarrassment, fear and a host of other emotions can come back to haunt a person, no matter how much time has elapsed.

It was my sixth summer I believe and time to leave the little "guppy pool" at the park and learn how to swim with the big kids.

There were many of us that summer that signed on for the lessons. The groups were large, time was short, so we were grouped according to age and then expected to progress from station to station mastering different aspects of water safety and know how by the time we got to station 12 and the DEEP END.

Notice I said there was a deep end...my definition of deep end was anywhere in the pool beyond the 3 FT. mark. (most of us soon to be in first grade were not so tall) Anyway, for the first four stations I moved along quite nicely. I was bonding with the other kids, splashing and using the kick board in the proper manner. All was good until I came to STATION FIVE.

"What do you mean we are supposed to jump in?" The instructor had just informed our group that we would line up, jump in (this was the 5 ft above our head area) then paddle back to the side. The 'lesson" at this station was that we could indeed hold our breath as we "went under". I was o.k. with the jumping in part...(well sort of o.k.) A person can only move to the back of the line so many times before the instructors notice that you have yet to complete the task. To this day I am not sure how I managed to muster up the courage to finally jump in...what still amazes me is that I was able to jump in and NOT get my face wet!! I actually think that is a good anti drowning tactic, however the instructors did not care for my unique style. We were shuffled through the exercise repeatedly and each time I was able to jump in and keep my face from ever getting wet! If I remember correctly, the instructors even tried to get the "more advanced" teacher to coach me. It didn't work.

So my "group" moved on the Staion 6, Station 7 and so on and so on, WAVING at me from the OTHER side of the pool while I spent the remainder of the summer session at STATION FIVE.

Years passed and I finally, sort of, overcame my extreme aversion to getting my face wet. Deciding to relinquish my "stuck at Station Five" label, I participated in a mini triathlon, (you know where you bike, run and SWIM). I asked if a snorkle and swim mask would be permitted. (they thought I was joking) Making sure I did not slap the other swimmer in my lane, (and that I stayed in my lane) the BACK STROKE seemed to be the logical answer to the swim part of the competition.

I call it working with what you got.

I Feel Pretty

2007-07-19T21:08:00.000-07:00

No Pain No Gain...
No wonder women have earned a few nicknames that are less than complementary. Pain is the name of the game if you are female. I won't even go into having a baby or the monthly blahs that we have each and every month until our bodies decide to go haywire with menopause. What I 'm talking about is a beauty regimen called FACIALS . I cannot BELIEVE that women actually have this done on a regular basis and pay mucho bucks for also! What I unknowingly got myself into was a simple little procedure called "micro-abrasion" I should of checked into the abrasion part a little closer. After a nine-plus hour waitress shift I was eager for my relaxing "treat". Little did I know what was in store for me. Soon, my already sweaty face from an extra long work day would have hot steam blasting directly at me (foreshadowing the fun that was yet to come). Not so bad I thought, sort of relaxing....until the "scalpel" or some sort of metal apparatus came out to seek and pop every last little black head or pimple on my face. Once done with that procedure, the "mini-me" of belt sanders was fired up to buff away a layer of skin. I can best describe that as a thorough licking by a cat with a very rough tongue.

I feel pretty, oh so pretty.

Cookies

2006-11-14T05:09:00.000-08:00

It's early.
It's dark outside,
and a bit chilly.
So I am going to bake some cookies.
The soft, almost melted chocolate chip type, with real butter butter.
Soul Food.

Cookies have a way of making any situation a little bit better, IF they are genuinely created with that ONE ingredient that store purchased cookies cannot replicate. That's right, a bit of love (and of course butter butter) will make them authentic "good for your soul" food.

Yum.

So Why Bother?

2005-11-25T07:21:00.000-08:00

It is now the day after Thanksgiving. Reflecting on my past year, I have ALOT to be grateful for...family and good friends helping out and coming through when it was and is so difficult to ask for help. The decisons and path I have chosen to walk have not been the easy one, choosing to listen to my heart and intuition instead of the steady, $$ secure way.
I believe I have a purpose here...it's just been difficult figuering out what that is! When I begin a new venture and think a-haaa this is what I am meant to do. It gets taken away or stopped. After my down time I pick myself up and begin the whole process again, (and again and again).
So why do it at all?
I am broke, I struggle and spend all my energy working for people who don't give a rats ass about anyone other than their own personal gain, and somehow in the midst of everything I am supposed to try and figure out what I should be doing?

I could use some help down here!

Procrastination...the art of not doing what you gotta do.

2005-11-16T06:58:00.000-08:00

I awoke early this morning and decided that I am soooo tired of excuses! Have you ever noticed how the world (mine especially) is full of them. There is always a reason for not doing this or that. Well the buck has to stop somewhere and I decided that I needed to do just that.
So I want to write...Life keeps throwing out curveballs and I am able to catch them however it is at the expense of doing something that I want to do AND get better at.
Hence, this mornings blog.
It might not be the most thought out blog I have written, however I AM sitting here and doing it.
Yay.

Store Music

2005-07-14T10:53:00.000-07:00

Store Music. It is meant to be in the background. You know that "noise" that large stores play to help the shopper get in a zombie state of mind to spend more money? I believe they call it elevator music although usually one can be zapped by it even when they are not in an elevator. I usually rate the stores on a scale of one to ten on how quickly the music is able to work its way into my brain to begin its damage. If by chance I find myself humming one of the tunes that are being played I ask my support network (whomever I am shopping with) to please remove me from the premises as quickly as possible before permanent damage is done. If I find myself HAVING to shop in a store that is noted for their worm into your brain music, I try to protect myself when entering the premises with my own inner tune. If the store in question is particulary bad, a set of headphones is my main artillary for protection. If it is TRULY mind altering, then I break out my kazoo, which results in the removal of my person from the premises, which is insurance that my brain will be protected.
Once in a blue moon a place of business might actually play music condusive to the task at hand. Mariachi music fills the aisles of one grocery store chain here in the southwest. I find myself doing a polka shuffle with the shopping cart. Nice.

Nursery Rhymes

2005-06-06T05:41:00.000-07:00

Ever have one of those ah-hah moments? I was teaching a classic nursery rhyme to a young child when I had to STOP and actually notice what I was reciting, (and asking her to learn)! example:
hey diddle diddle
the cat and the fiddle
the cow jumped over the moon.
the little dog laughed
to see such sport
and the dish ran away with the spoon...

Let's ponder this for a moment.

So was the dog laughing AT the cow for doing a remarkable feat? Did he think he could do it better? What about the dish and spoon? Were they involved with other dinnerware before they decided to "run away" with each other? The cat playing a fiddle is fairly cool to visualize, however all in all I would have to give some serious thought as to what message I was wanting the little ears to learn.

The Brothers

2004-10-28T06:54:00.000-07:00

The air is getting colder, the leaves are flying about which means reflections, memories and moments are what is left of summer. The leaves whisk by the corner where The Brothers played, and I smile.
Cory and Jon are brothers, they are musicians, and they brightened my summer with their music and their spirit. If you were lucky enough to be on the corner of Milwaukie and Bybee when they were playing then you know what I am talking about. Street musicians are most always a treat, but when you add creativeness to the formula it becomes magical. Jon (age 11) played the accordion, brother Cory (age 14) played the guitar.
The world can be a negative place at times. Music can soothe a troubled soul especially when it is heartfelt AND well played. We had just emerged from seeing Fahrenheit 911 at the local theater. Looking around at the viewers who had watched the movie the sense of "what's it all about" was heavy in the air as we all shuffled out.
Then we heard the boys.
Their open guitar case did well that evening as most of the moviegoers found themselves drawn to the boys and their music.
I was fortunate enough to have them bless my soul with a few other performances before summer came to an end. I might add I was impressed with the young entrepreneurs and their ability to work together. Many of their songs were original compositions, and both had specific ideas on how their summer fund raising would benefit their music. Jon was able to upgrade his accordion and Cory was working on building a custom electric guitar for himself.
I guess mowing lawns, or delivering papers aren't the only ways for creative youth to earn some summer cash.
Thank you Cory and Jon.
My spirit will smile whenever I hear Hava Nagela.

The Haircut

2004-10-23T18:45:00.000-07:00

Getting your hair cut is usually a most pleasant experience where the customer not only gets a new or improved look, but they also have a chance to get “free” chair therapy. Both the hair stylist as well as the customer realize that no one is going anywhere for a while, which means that usually the customer, when asked how they are doing, will get the chance to really let the hair stylist know what’s going on in their life. Profound conversations, intimate details and all sorts of things are shared during a haircut.

This CAN backfire!!

If during the course of the conversation things somehow get turned around and the topic switches its focus to the hairstylist’s personal experiences...then be wary. Cheating mates, dysfunctional childhoods,IRS problems to name a few, are NOT subjects you want the person who is holding the scissors with to be yakking about!

Not too long ago I was trying to be a caring customer when that very situation happened to me. Somehow the conversation got switched around to the hairstylist’s disgruntled relationship with her mom. Unfortunately as she was walking down memory lane her snip snip here, snip sip there became more intense with every recollected detail. The bald spot above my right ear was enough to get me to try and change the subject.

I am grateful for hats.

Parking Lots

2004-09-21T09:35:00.000-07:00

Last week I spent my days working at the LPGA Tour, parking cars. (that's short for Ladies Professional Golf Association) It seems like a simple enough job to do, however in between all the drama that goes on with parking cars...I had ample time to ponder.

There were ALOT of "volunteers" running around doing the many things that were necessary to orchestrating an event of this magnitude. My part was to help park cars. It's funny how depending on what lot I got stationed at, it either seemed to be a "step up" or "down".
Let me give an example. I started out in THE GRASSY LOT finding spots for folks and just picking up the overflow from THE PAVED AREA. Things slowed down so I was asked to go across the street to THE DIRT LOT. There were already two volunteers managing that parking area which had absolutely no activity whatsoever, so you can guess how I felt...I had been demoted. Things were looking up when I was asked to cross back across the street to be in THE PAVED LOT moving cones for all of the VIP's.

Several days and parking lots later found me with a semi-permanent spot overlooking THE GRASSY LOT. Sort of reminded me of Goldilocks and the Three Bears. That particular spot was "just right" for me. I had a RADIO, I made decisions, I got to interact with both the VIPS and all of the other people who helped to put on the tour...

It was good.

Until the fourth day, when we had to divide THE GRASSY LOT. VIPS to the right, all of the rest of the world to the left...handicap spots also. Keep in mind this was a large field that I was told used to have tomatoes in it?? (at least that's what I told people who made comments of it being a cow pasture) The hill was very steep to drive down to it, and frankly I felt bad sending the elderly volunteers who were visibly handicapped down there to park. No one complained as they patiently waited to catch a shuttle ride back up.

Things changed when we ran out of VIP spots in THE PAVED AREA. The VIP's got sent to THE GRASSY LOT (the same one that the handicap spots were in) with assurances that a shuttle would be waiting for them as they parked. That's when the complaints started! The VIP's were not happy campers. Now I know that without the VIP's there would not be an event, nor a need to use the help of sweet older volunteers. It is sort of sad when people who make a nice living out of the strength and coordination of their bodies complain that they had to park too far, and folks who cannot navigate without the use of a walker get put in the same area and smile because they are just happy to be there helping out.

I came to the conclusion that we are ALL VIP's especially the ones in life who go about their business with a heart full of gratitude no matter what parking lot they get put in.

The Pecan Tart Society

2004-09-09T05:43:00.000-07:00

Maybe the coffee shop needed to be busier, maybe I had just a wee bit too much time on my hands. I would like to think that profound thoughts were just a part of coffeehouse ambiance. What ever the reasons, one morning as I was setting out the days baked offerings I found myself in a dilemma as to which pecan tarts to display for sale. This shouldn't pose too much of a problem since the answer is obvious.

The pretty ones.

Not the ones that bubbled just a bit too much over the side, or had a crack in their pastry.

The pretty ones.

THOSE are the ones people will buy, and pay full price for I might add.

In walks early morning regular Forest, who usually is unable to utter any form of communication before his "shot in the dark"... (espresso lingo for a regular cup of coffee with a shot of espresso added), and in his case copious amounts of half and half and honey.

"It's not fair!" I state as I pull his shot.

He looked at me, knowing I was just getting started on this one. "In a perfect world there would be no segregation of pretty pecan tarts and the not so pretty ones." "Tarts are judged by how they look on the outside and whether they are just as tasty, maybe even a bit more so, does not count. The attractive ones are given full honor, are paid full price and taken home to be ogled and awed at before being consumed. Most likely if they were overcooked or undercooked, all of that would be unimportant...because they look good. Placing them side by side, the unpretty ones are destined to get marked down in price. No one will buy them at full price. Keep in mind these pecan tarts may be the moistest, flakiest, most yummy of them all but because of their exterior presentation, they are not deemed worthy of full value."

How tragic is that?

More tragic is that by this judgment, this placement in the bargain basket, many people miss out on how delicious these not so pretty tarts truly are. Granted some are burned and hard and there just is no covering up their flaws...this isn't about them, this is about the ones that ARE good and that get passed by because of some crack in their pastry or over-bubbliness of their fill. Perhaps we need to look beyond the exterior flaws, and decide for ourselves.

A person might get more than they bargained for.

Letting Good In

2004-09-05T15:54:00.000-07:00

Having just returned from a wonderful little hike in Portland's Washington Park (we like to explore the trails at the Hoyt Arboretum) I am filled with gratitude for the awesome beauty that this world has to offer. Walking amongst the trees with my friend Nate and Lucy the dog, I was finally able to take a few deep breaths, (actually I took more than a few since I am a tad out of shape!) and let some positive thoughts in.

There is alot of woes in the world.

Children being held hostage and killed at school in Russia, hurricanes destroying peoples homes and dreams in Florida, politicians saying whatever it takes to get elected but deep down you know that they most likely don't give a damn whether you have health coverage or not....and on and on.

So when I get a chance to go out and let peaceful good feelings sink in that I get from a walk in the woods, I do. Maybe I can't do much to help/and or fix the woes in the world, however I do know that by allowing good in, some is bound to come out. This moment is all we actually can do anything about so why not do all I can to make it one that adds a plus instead of a minus in the whole scheme of things? I need all the help I can get. A quiet walk in the woods is a good start.

A Kick in the Arse

2004-08-31T15:37:00.000-07:00

Making the decision to move from the coast to Portland was not easy. When choosing which road to take, I often wind up on the uncharted, needing four wheel drive, stuck in the muck path. Having easy access to my sandy, salty beach sanctuary sure seemed like reason enough to stay. There was this little dilemma however called lack of work...

Which followed me to the city.

No work, money, or beach within easy reach and the first of the month right around the corner. I needed a substitute sanctuary! The answer? Powell’s City of Books. Depending on ones color choice a person can escape into the vast collection of the written word and leave their everyday woes behind. It was on one of these sojourns when I found a recommended book for an aspiring yet unmotivated writer such as myself. I was doubtful to its usefulness as there are times in ones life when encouraging words, written or spoken, do not reach a despondent soul. What I needed was a kick in the arse, which I found within Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird.

I was hooked after reading the book jacket.

Anne Lamott not only shared vast amounts of wisdom on the nuts and bolts of writing. She understands the difficulty of actually getting down to it. Words and the need to express oneself may be swirling around inside of a person, however putting pen to paper can be tough. Especially if one has tuned in to what she refers to as radio station KFKD. Anne warns, “if you are not careful, station KFKD will play in your head twenty-four hours a day, nonstop, in stereo.” Playing “songs of self-loathing, the lists of all the things one doesn’t do well, of all the mistakes one has made today and over an entire lifetime, the doubt, the assertion that everything that one touches turns to shit...”

I needed that reminder.

It was time to turn that station off or at the very least find a different station and get on with one of the reasons for the move to the city. I wanted to write. I had ‘blah blahed’ for too many years about the desire to make a commitment to my writing, to mySELF, to see what Laura was all about. Life had been my excuse. Too much work, not enough time, bills need to be paid...but where and HOW to begin??

Bird by bird.

“Thirty years ago my older brother, who was ten years old at the time, was trying to get a report on birds written that he’d had three months to write. (It) was due the next day. We were out at our family cabin in Bolinas, and he was at the kitchen table close to tears, surrounded by binder paper and pencils and unopened books on birds, immobilized by the hugeness of the task ahead. Then my father sat down beside him, put his arm around my brother’s shoulder, and said, ‘Bird by bird, buddy. Just take it bird by bird.’” This encouraging story by Anne is what grabbed my attention, however, her wit and insight throughout the book is what held it.

Thank you Anne Lamott for sharing, I think your father had good advice.

*a note from miss mooty...I wrote this essay to enter a contest at a bookstore to win free books! The question asked was "What was your most memorable reading experience of the last ten years?"

The Sound of Crickets

2004-08-19T05:53:00.000-07:00

It has been an unusually warm summer here in the Northwest. With the warmer evenings I have noticed an old familiar "song" that reminded me of my years in Arizona. Crickets. I had been living on the coast, and never heard them there, so I got curious as to the why I now heard them in the city. I made a mental note to consult "the professor" (my nickname for google when I have a question) to find out the whys and hows of these noisy little bugs.

Only the males make noise. That's right guys, you won't hear ONE SOUND coming from the females. The males chirp to attract the females. This chirping is created by something called stridulation, which is the term used to describe when one body part of an insect is rubbed against another part of their body. They use their front wings to make the sound. One cricket was listened to by a zoologist who documented his chirping of no less than 42,000 times over a period of four hours! (this documentation might of been different if the zoologist had provided a female or two to listen to the poor little fella). Unfortunately in the great outdoors they make such a racket that the noise also lets predators know their location. It is amazing what sort of danger a male will expose himself to, to do what he's gotta do. One cricket source even said that once the male has succeeded with attracting a female to mate, he dies. And we thought our life is tough.

I discovered a few more interesting facts about these eco-friendly good for your soul little insects. In China ladies from the Imperial Palace kept crickets in golden cages to provide soothing "music" as they went to sleep. They are nocturnal omnivorous who some say you can use to determine temerature by the number of chirps. Someone even came up with a formula to do this!

The simplest method is to count the number of chirps in 15 seconds and add 40. The sum usually approximates the temperature within a few degrees Fahrenheit.

The original formula for determining temperature from cricket chirps appears to have been published in 1897 by A.E. Dolbear, a physics professor at Tufts College. Since Dolbears time, formulas have been devised for various species. Here are Three formulas which may or may not actually work! In all cases, T is the temperature and N is the number of chirps per minute.

Field Cricket: T = 50 + (N - 40 / 4)

Snowy Tree Cricket: T = 50 + (N - 92 / 4.7)

Katydid: T = 60 + (N - 19 / 3)

I am getting much to carried away with all of this! When I all I wanted to do with this blog is to clear my conscience of a cricket experience I had when I returned home to visit Arizona. I had been living in Alaska for quite a few years and had even forgotten the soothing night noise that these guys orchestrate. So I was actually excited when I heard a cricket in my room the first night home. All I can say is that if you put one horny cricket in a room with an exhausted traveler...the can of Raid will be brought out and the need to silence the mating call will override even the kindest spirit. In my defense, my intention was originally not to destroy the little guy. He was in my room though! He would sing, I would turn on the light (to gently remove him to the great outdoors mind you) and he would shut up. Light would go out, I would lay down, and he would start up again. Repeat scene. Light on, silence, look around, light off. By three in the morning after an attempt to slam a window on him, the can of Raid was grasped in my hand and I was looking to silence him once and for all. I never found him, I woke up with my hand still clasping the can of Raid.

I guess now I am glad I never did find him...

information obtained from:
"House Cricket" Stuart M. Bennett
"Crickets and Temperature" entomology.unl.edu/(k-12)

Wordiness Is Death to a Conversation

2004-08-16T20:12:00.000-07:00

It was during a conversation today that I had a flashback to something that one of my professors used to say quite often. "Wordiness is death to your paper!" The conversation I am referring to took place between a young person at the boys and girls club I work at and myself. His question was if he could have one of the sodas that was in our walk-in cold storage. My reply to the young man's question was "no". He asked "Why not"? I answered, "Because".

He let it go at that.

I smiled thinking how pleasant our conversations could be if we edited our responses and kept them simple. Too much information is usually released and for the most part it is unnecessary and uses up too much time and energy. It seems as if we need to justify our every response when questioned and if truth be told getting down to the nitty gritty as to why we feel a certain way about certain situations can prove most difficult at times! "Because" pretty much covers a whole lot of ground especially if we are not sure what type of ground it is that we are justifying.

If asked why I chose to muse on this particular subject I guess my reply would have to be...
"Because."

Clean your Window

2004-08-15T07:14:00.000-07:00

No, this isn't another "how to" on the abc's of the actual act of cleaning your windows. There are already plenty of expertise guides on that, and anyway this is a sunday morning and my brain is not in the "how to" mode. What I AM musing about however is my attitude. Lately it sucks. With every little setback it seems to tip more towards the negative side versus the I can succeed, life IS okay side. Which brings me back to window cleaning.

In one of my many occupations I at one time worked at the tenth hole of one of the most beautiful golf courses in the United States. This was a private club and the members would call me from a TREE at the ninth hole to order up a special sandwich which I would have ready for them as they drove up (got to keep those carts moving) Incidentally for those of you who have worked, or are working in the food service business, this was one of the most perfectly timed, no stress, food situations I have ever been involved in!

There was alot of time to look out the window.

Keep in mind as we look out our windows the view may change a bit due to weather or whatever, but basically you have a certain scene to work with and that's that. After a monsoon (that's an Arizona come on way fast, leave just as fast PMS'ing rain storm) my window view would become very dirty. I would attempt to ignore it, however I soon figured out that my particular view out the window sure looked better when I cleaned off all the crap from the storm. The view was still the same, the window, same. However when I took the time to wipe away the remains of the storm my view became a shinier, clearer, more pleasant one. It wasn't even that much work.

So when my attitude becomes a bit cloudy with too much stuff.

I clean it.

Sundaes at the Park

2004-08-02T06:25:00.000-07:00

Who could resist an invitation to attend the 25th annual "Sundae in the Park"?? With flyers announcing ice cream and refreshments at old fashioned prices, entertainment, fun and games...not to mention SHADE (yea, it's been a hot time in the city with NO AIR CONDITIONING).

True to the advertising ice cream was indeed handed out at unbelievably low prices! 25 cents for a cone, 50 cents for a sundae (with sprinkles on top even!) AND the nice guys taking the quarters didn't even card you if you went through the line twice. Popcorn and people watching was FREE, which made the event even sweeter.

It was a good time.

A time to relax and for a moment forget credit card payments, too much work, too little work, whether you are overweight, underweight or just plain un-enthused with life in general.

A time to keep it simple.