Turning Back the Clock This is not to say that I don’t appreciate all the conveniences I have as a result of you. But sometimes you really do cross the line. Like today, when I awoke to find that you had predictably taken into account that extra hour I was given. And as a result, I slept through it. In other years, when I turned back the clock myself I anticipated that hour throughout the day; waiting for the gap that I wanted to claim as my own. Removing the bowl of pulp and seeds from the refrigerator and separating the two. Roasting and salting pumpkin seeds because it seems like a fall thing to do even though no one really seems to enjoy them. Or walking the dogs in the shuffle of leaves lamenting not putting sunscreen on my lips as I felt the first tingle of a fever blister. Or sitting on the back porch at the early dusk with a drink by my side, a book in my lap, head tilted back, thinking about how to write a poem about squirrels going home at the end of the day. But because you had already accounted for that hour as I slept, today will be like any other.

It's hard to believe it's been nearly two years since I've posted here. But it was also hard to believe that it's been nearly four years since I fried chicken, which I realized last night when I retrieved my big jug of peanut oil from the basement and it had expired in 2012. So time really does fly or skid or super G and before you know it you're at the finish line - hopefully without too, too many regrets. I don't want not writing to be a regret. I've been waking up everyday lately with a high level of anxiety. And I can point to all kinds of external things as the source of that anxiety. But I wonder if that's a smokescreen for an anxiety that I'm not doing anything worthwhile with my life. Instead I worry about my job, my failure to exercise, the food that I ate yesterday and whether I'll be able to do better tomorrow. None of which really matters or changes, so I've eased into a groove that has left me uneasy. All because I don't have the courage - or grit - to put myself out there in written word. Instead of writing, I spent the afternoon - truly hours - reading about what to eat and do to look seven years younger, which - if attained - would mean what? So I say again, "here I am". And God willing tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. And focused on more meaningful and fruitful pursuits.

Metamarvelous

Today we took a walk with the dogs in Longview Park. For some reason, all the caterpillars were also there today. Two little boys were walking the path with their mom and grandmother. When we walked by them the first time, the older of the boys asked his mother if he could pet our big dog, Max. She replied, “Not now, he’s busy.” To which he responded, “He doesn’t look busy,” which made me laugh...out loud, but quietly....lqol.

When we crossed paths again, the boys were scooping up caterpillars and putting them into a small plastic bowl. The grandmother asked if they remembered what it is called when a caterpillar turns into a butterfly and the older child responded, “Yes, a metamarvelous.” His grandmother told him that was “close,” but I think he was right on.

Elevator etiquette

I was in Chicago this week for work and some fantastic play with even more fantastic friends. All work and no play and whatnot...... On Friday morning, I left my hotel room with an overstuffed shoulder bag and my suitcase on wheels. I pressed the down button and stood on the rightish end of the three elevator bank when, as I might have predicted, the far left elevator door opened. I hustled to the open elevator door, which began closing just as I got there. Thinking quickly, I jammed my elevator closing preventer device (a.k.a. my suitcase on wheels, which maybe doesn't even need the "on wheels" clarification because come to think of it I think they all have wheels now....) between the closing doors. Then I used my hands to push the doors apart, which usually works, right? But this time it wasn't working. Using all the strength I could muster, the doors were not budging. I glanced up to notice through the crack made by my suitcase that the back wall of the elevator was a mirror, and in that mirror I saw a tall, thin man who was trying to push himself against the side wall of the elevator so that I wouldn't see his reflection, (which too bad for him, I did), instead of pushing what he should have been pushing - the > < button to open the f'ing door! Come on!! With my suitcase firmly lodged between the doors and my attempts at prying the doors any further open futile, I semi-hysterically squealed, "Would you push the door open button?!!?!!" And just like that, the doors sailed open, welcoming me into an eleven floor ride with this misanthrope who was on the threshold of turning me into one of him.

I spent our silent little journey to the lobby thinking about what I would like to say to him about what I hoped he learned from this experience and how he had the whole rest of the day to think about how he could make up for his karmic debt (okay, I know I'm overblowing, in a big way, the bad nature of his act, which was little more than impolite, but at the time it felt more like a rejection of humanity). Thinking, as we rode in silence for eleven floors. And thinking still about what the perfect thing to say would have been - just the right proportions to induce sting and guilt. Not so much to allow for defensiveness. And when I finally figure that out, I will begin to tell others my story just for the pleasure of including my perfect reaction as if it really occurred in real time.

Passwords

Yep. Figured out my google password. I would have been writing everyday, but I was locked out. Totally not my fault. Why, Google, do you conspire to keep me from blogging by requiring a pesky password? But here I am. With nothing to say. Gotcha!

Squirrel Acrobatics....

I am working on beginning a meditation practice. Hard to understand why setting aside fifteen or twenty minutes each day just to breathe and be still seems like such a challenge, but for me it is. I wake up, lie in bed and think "hey, rather than get up, I could just meditate right here. who makes the meditation rules anyway? lying here, I can count my breathes....zzzzzzzz." That's how it frequently works. Then there are the days when I do get up, devote my time to meditation and spend the greater part of it thinking.."how do I know if I'm doing this right? if I'm asking this, I'm probably not doing it right because aren't I supposed to not be thinking and clearly I'm thinking....how would I even know if I wasn't thinking if I couldn't think that? I'm clearly missing something...." But there have been a few times in my admittedly brief (okay, just about a week) practice, when I've felt (not thought, mind you) a loss of distinction between me and the world. I can't describe it, but it is just a glimmer of the sense of being that is what is bringing me back in the hopes of feeling that again. This morning was not the morning. BUT instead because I wasn't closing my eyes (like I think I'm supposed to) and was looking up to the window and out to the woods behind my house, I saw some AMAZING, EYE-POPPING, GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH type acrobatic moves from one amazing squirrel. He was LEAPING great distances from tree to tree, limb to limb - all in the same area, so it did not seem he was trying to get anywhere as much as he was celebrating the day and his ability to fly and being alive. So no, I didn't get a sense of oneness with the universe today, but I was reminded how everyday should be a celebration of the life we have been given. This meditation thing - I'm a fan.

Sunday Afternoon

Skip this one because it's going to be a gripefest. Even more reason to skip it is it's going to be a gripefest about something I should be grateful for. Arrgh!! A Sunday afternoon with ambivalent weather - too cold and dreary to go out, but shots of sun that occasionally make an appearance to highlight how much I need to wash my windows, which reminds me of all the other things that I NEED to be doing...such as writing general comments to distribute with graded memos this week...which are making it impossible for me to come up with something fun to do that is not completely guilt ridden. I'm giving in to a cup of tea with milk and sugar and the book on my bedside table. Everything else will get done. Just not today.

Calling an end to winter.....

I don't get to create the calendar, or choose the weather forecast, or even always pick the channel that the weather forecast is on in my house. (Dave Murray, I've had a bone to pick with you ever since I was in high school and I saw you at McDonalds and complimented you on the weather...I think my words were a giddy "Nice day, Dave!" and you responded with a snort. I've never felt the same about you or your unreliable forecasts since.) But I am calling a halt to my own personal winter. An end to my days of not being able to get out of bed followed by days in anticipation of returning to bed. Hibernation is no longer an option. Admittedly, I am writing this from bed, but I am sitting up in bed, rather that trying to simply adjust my head so that I can see whatever crap is on tv from my pillow. This is a step in the right direction. Time to bloom!!

Pile of papers.....

Nothing inspires me to do things I've been putting off like a pile of papers waiting to be graded. Organize my bookshelf? Check. Catch up on missed episodes of Project Runway? Check. Scrub the grout in the shower.........well, grading papers is better than some tasks. Time to dig in. But first, I need to go to Art Mart and get some of those "Le Pens" I like to grade with. At least it's a step in the right direction......But even before that, I may have a few photos that need to be "stachetasticed".....love that app!

Rainy Morning

Some years ago I was dealing with an illness that kept me homebound for a few months. I took a leave from work and faced long days that involved scheduling naps, counting the minutes until Ellen & Oprah, and trying to spoil myself in ways that I had never before had the opportunity. I am so blessed to have my health back now. And there is only one residual effect from that experience that I go back to daily. Breakfast in bed. Everyday. Not eggs benedict or french toast or even any kind of toast, which would just be a mess. No. Every morning I get up, make a pot of coffee and while it brews put together a bowl of (crumb free) stonyfield farms vanilla yogurt with fresh raspberries sprinkled on top. Then I climb back in to bed for a few blissful moments of reading blogs or watching the Today show while I luxuriate in my breakfast in bed. It is particularly delightful - and maybe a little drawn out - on days like today when there is a nice rainfall outside. This is a ritual I highly recommend. A lovely way to pause and enjoy before the craziness of the day sets in.

Ah, the library....

Let me first begin with a confession. I have been on the run, lived on the lamb (whatever that means, if I'm even getting it right...), ran from the law. Or, at least the law if the law were the library. I have what some librarians might consider an unhealthy love of books. Unhealthy especially when the legitimate owner of the book is the public library. But that whole legitimate thing has never gotten in the way of me writing my name in big letters at the beginning of a book I could not bear to return to its rightful owner. A rightful owner that probably never even really appreciated what a gem it so freely loaned out to anyone with a card - and can I say that they give those cards out far too easily? In fact, maybe it's even purposeful entrapment - who knows what nefarious motives lurk behind the woman whose main communication with her patrons is "shhhhhh." It began with "Touch Blue" - a book full of incantations and spells that was too special and rare to return, so I hid it under my bed in second grade, confessed to my mother that I'd lost it, and still have it on my bookshelf to this day. li And it continued after that, threatening my high school graduation because I owed on unreturned books, making me delighted that a move to a new area meant starting over fresh with a new library, turning over, as it were, a new leaf. I would become a good library citizen, but then a book would enter my life that I couldn't bear to turn loose of.

But I came clean. I went to the library about a month ago, confessed to my loss of their paperback copy of Martin Dressler over 6 years ago, paid a paltry fine of less than $15 and became a member of the library in good standing once again. And I've vowed to stay clean this time. I would not be a recidivist!! I am a changed girl. I belong to my public library. A trip to the library still leaves me a little breathless. Really? I can just take these with me? And read them and all you ask is that I bring them back when I come in for more books? There is a stack of 5 books by my bed. God help me if one is too irresistable. Fortunately, I now have Amazon to get my back if I get in really deep with a book.....

back in the saddle.....

We've heard that before!! This time I am serious about blogging. I am going to do it everyday. At least I am going to write tonight as I wait for a Stevie-special pizza (super thin crust with mushrooms, leeks, artichoke hearts & fresh basil) to come out of the oven. So here's the deal. I am going to quit complaining about my failure to do anything and blaming it on the world for not presenting me with enough opportunities, and I am going to begin taking advantage of all the amazing opportunities that are there.

Weekend one worked out beautifully! Tower Grove farmer's market on Saturday morning and a basket full of fixins' for ratatouille, sichuan braised pork (okay, I need to pick up a few specialty items from Global foods, but that will happen later this week), and BLT's. My favorite chair and the end of the Red Tent - did I mention that I was ready for it to be over, so much, in fact, that I think I only read the topic sentences of the last 50 pages?? A stroll through the dance festival on Grand until the sky opened up. Photos of an amazing rainbow from the car - me: "slow down, I need to get this" him: "this guy's right behind me!" me: "seriously, just pull over and let him pass".....is he really the only one in this relationship to use "!!" marks? Not likely, but that is the tenor of the conversation to the best of my recollection. Anyway, got some amazing photos, which we reviewed as we sat at the bar at 'scape while we waited for Liz and Robert to join us and drank a wonderful "old vine" garnacha - mmmm.

Liz an Robert arrived with books for Ready Readers and full of fun conversation. Can I just say that I LOVE LIZ?!!?!!!! Amazing swordfish...am I allowed to confess that?? 'scape is all organic and such...would they be serving a politically incorrect swordfish?? I don't think so. Anyway, that was my thought process in ordering it and, man, it was great! A little Israeli couscous and beurre blanc with some citrus hints....have I just revealed my lack of knowledge? Is a citrus hint essential to beurre blanc? Whatever. It was great. I should have stopped right there, but couldn't resist convincing everyone that a trip to the CupCakery was a required conclusion to our evening. Can I say I was right? I had the "island" special - really just a yellow cupcake with vanilla cream and coconut topping. Wow. Reminded me of all the lamb Easter cakes that were great, but disturbing because I wanted to eat the head, but didn't want to eat the head. Forget about that. Loved the cupcake.

Stevie went to the Rams loss....I mean game....today. I took the dogs for a march through the mud at Queeny Park, bought some beautiful red mums for the pot on my front porch, and went to a little local art fair at Francis Park with Peggy. Delightful! Perfect weather, nice sized crowd, and nothing I couldn't live without. Now I am waiting for the season premiere of Amazing Race. I know. Such a big, cheap weekend!! Stay tuned (as if!!), more to come!!

My nephew Cory

Maybe the childless just have a special soft spot for their nieces and nephews, but I think even if I was Kate with sextuplets and a tv show and a philandering husband that I would have to stop in admiration of the wonderful young man that my oldest nephew Cory has become.  He is in town for a few days and I got to spend the afternoon with him.  He is centered, humble, accepting and humble.  Wow.  Did I mention that he is also darling.  See for yourself.  I may be biased, but I think my observations are unassailable!!

Shout for Joy!

Another teensy bouquet

This title is simply subterfuge.  I am really just seeing if I can upload/download a picture from my flicker page.   If there's a picture accompanying this, it worked.  If there isn't, well, it didn't and I will have to continue to puzzle over what I am doing wrong!