Friday, July 29

Blue blazes

Rented a car for the weekend, getting ready to drive down the coast to visit my kids.  It's hotter than blue blazes outside today, so I will be taking an icy beverage and may stop at the beach on my way.
Blue is my new passion you see.  I'm on the hunt for hand-dyed blue yarn, indigo preferred.  Seems the minute I find it, it's snapped up before I can buy it.  Maybe everyone is feeling a little blue these days, or perhaps blue is so quiet and calming, that it somehow soothes us during these unsettled times. For whatever reason, I am surrounding my self with it, swimming in it, embracing it whenever I can.

Well, better start packing, it's a long, long drive!



Wednesday, July 27

A little break

Yes, I've been on a little break. Not because I planned on it, or even wanted to. I did try to post quite a few times, but each time I'd write, delete, think, write, delete, think, write, delete dammit, dammit, dammit all!!!

It seemed I couldn't put two sentences down without reaching the end of an idea.  My brain was not cooperating and I worried that I might have to give it up for good.

But still, I thought of this space, a lot.  I worried about it gathering dust and my readers fading away into the ether world in search of life.  I watched as my stats slowly flat-lined and the only "views" I was getting were the creatures that prey on unused web spaces.  Visitors who are not real people, but spiders, and bots, and crawlers and malware. They began to feed on my web space, devouring what little there was of it, using it for some unseen purpose.

I would love to take it all away from them.  They need to get real jobs, climb out of their basement or cave or whatever hole in the ground they work out of and join the human race again.

So, I'm going to give it my all again. I will write as I've never written before. I will reach out to other bloggers and invite them over for tea.  I will try new things, perhaps give-a-ways, which have always seemed so friendly to me.  I will focus on those things that are nearest and dearest to my heart and try above all to keep my space unpretentious and down to earth.  I want my readers to feel comfortable and welcome.

On that note, I am sharing two photos of my little cottage in town. They were taken from the city alley I live on, one in daytime, the other at night. I live a very humble life. Most everything I own is second hand or just handed down. I don't have (or want) T.V. My car is very old and not so dependable anymore, so when I go to visit my kids three hours away, I have to rent a car. It's an expense, but much cheaper than a car payment. I am 63 years old and live on my own, so have to work full time. There's really no other choice for me right now if I want to continue to enjoy my independence. Sometimes, it's really hard to keep up at work, but I have very kind bosses and I am very grateful for them all.

Living on the alley is unlike any life I've ever lived. Before moving here, I lived in the center of a five acre pasture in a home that my then husband and I designed and helped build. Privacy was our priority and we had it in spades. When our marriage ended, I moved into town to be close to work, first into an apartment, then into this tiny (600 sq. ft) cottage. There are things I'd like to change here, but since I rent, there's a limit to what I can ask for. I see a wildflower garden instead of weeds and gravel on the alley-side, a defined parking spot, a small privacy fence that I can plant sweet peas on each spring, and perhaps a little carport or shed so my old car and garden tools have a place out of the weather. These things seem reasonable to me, but I'm not the one who would have to pay for them, and I'd be afraid that in exchange, they would have to increase my rent. So, I am probably going to have to find ways to get these things all by myself.  Of course, I will make sure the landlords are okay with whatever I come up with, but since I'm not planning anything that wouldn't be an improvement for future renters I'm pretty sure they will be cool with my plans.

So many big ideas tonight, but for now, I must unwind and get myself off to bed.
It feels good to be back.


Friday, June 17

Matters of the heart

Okay, just write, just write something. Write of dreams and feelings and revelations. Let it all tumble out without reservation or hesitation, and above all else, without the need for approval from others.
So, deep breath, here goes.

Last night, I dreamt of a man who was terrified of love. I moved very close to him and whispered that love was the only reason to be alive. I did not press too close, as I knew that he was made of brittle stone, and if I let myself touch him, he would shatter into a million pieces. 

Then, I realized that I had lost my tea kettle. (oh how crazy dreams can be) I asked the man if he would help me find it. He nodded yes. We then began to wander aimlessly around the house. (a house both familiar yet strangely foreign) We went out the backdoor and into a lush green meadow where I saw my kettle nestled in the grass. I picked it up, turned around, and found that he had disappeared. I wondered if he would come back, and if he did, would he be different?  Perhaps I'd scared him off? Maybe I had said the wrong thing?

It's for the best I told myself, "You don't want a man who's afraid of love and can't be touched". So, I closed the door, set the lock, and went to the kitchen to make some tea. Then I woke up.

As I write this out tonight, I am fully aware that this dream is riddled with personal meaning, and I am so thankful both for the ability to let my brain empty it's thoughts through my fingers, and for the trust that I have in my own powers of self preservation and personal renewal. Someone once told me that women have a divine intuition, that we have all the knowledge we need to heal ourselves and make ourselves whole again.
My heart know's this is true.

That's enough for tonight. 

Good night dear readers


Monday, June 6

Under the new moon

The magic of moonlight.  I always imagined that the nocturnal vision I had on full moon nights was as close as I would ever get to seeing the way the creatures of the night do.  There's an intoxicating glow to everything, and shades of color that defy description appear from the dark. Dull yet gleaming, blurry but defined, there is a completely separate law of color for moonlit nights. And the shadows, oh the shadows are so breathtaking.

hay field in moonlight

It is the first night after the new moon, and my energy level is very high.  Though I am long past my child bearing years, I can still feel the pull of this cycle, and I can remember the primal ebb and flow that accompanied the movements of the moon. Such a miraculous and blessed connection it was.

Well, I could  *ahem* wax on further, but think I should take my old bones to bed.

Good night dear readers,

Sunday, June 5

Seeing the light

It's been a long time since I've posted here. So many of my blogger friends have departed now, most to the magical land of Instagram.  I've wondered, if perhaps the era of the blog has passed by in the night.  Blogs certainly don't attract as many viewers, and they are hard to find. There are no guarantees that anyone will ever read what you post. But that's exactly what beckons me back to this anachronistic place, like a secret room that lives behind a hidden doorway, a place undiscovered and not a part of the outside world. Here, I can be whatever I want to be.  I can make up things and no one calls my bluff. I can let myself go.

I would never do that on Instagram.

If you crave company and cheerful affirmations and lots of emoji's, then by all means, go to Instagram.
It feels good to connect with people, let's you visit places you might never get to, learn about other cultures and ways of life. You can construct your very own happy place, and it's open pretty much 24/7.

But, if you want to say something out loud that you've never told another living soul, post it on a blog.  

Don't worry, unless you are immensely popular, no one will every see it. Blogging is like being in a dark, safe space with a single window to the outside world.  From which, you can be calm and reflective. Seeing the light is sometimes all you want. Sometimes it's all you need. 

There have been many times over the past two years that I've retreated into this space.  Once out of sheer self preservation, the rest, in moments of deep introspection.

I've met some beautiful souls blogging, who's lives seem to be on a parallel course to my own.
None of us wants to feel we are alone in our lifes struggles.  Blogging helped me to know that I'm not.

So there you have it on a crystal blue Sunday in June.  Pretty heavy stuff, so I will end with two recent photos that felt related to each other and to my train of thought today.

Peace dear readers


the moment of reflection

Thursday, May 19


I am drawn to light and shadow.  My eyes see everything as a painting, a still-life, a landscape.  I've always worn these glasses, and now, with so many wonderful camera's at my disposal, I am driven to capture moments that seem ordinary, but hold secrets and delightful surprises. 


afternoon light through a dusty alley window
hello kitty

Wednesday, May 18

Saying goodbye

He was my very best friend for 12 years.
He was family.

A week ago, I had to say goodbye to Jr. forever. He was old, his body failing, but his spirit and courage in the face of his decline still going strong.  It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. Now, I am left with a piece of my heart broken.  He was an extraordinary kitty, he was an old cat soul, he had the deepest gaze and the uncanny ability to comfort me even in my darkest hour.  I did my best to repay him by allowing him the run of our home. He was never denied his spot in bed, or his favorite canned food, or a place on my lap even when I was knitting. There was a seat at every window for him to perch on, a window always open for him to hear the wind, bird song, or the cackling of our neighbors hens.  He was brushed, and given handfuls of warm bath water to drink (his favorite), and had his own water glass, always full, on the bathroom vanity. He was fastidious and loved to sleep on my shoes. He was matter of fact, yet full of surprises. He made me laugh, daily. There aren't enough words for me to accurately describe him to you, but if you had gotten a chance to meet him, you would know what I mean. All who met him, where won over.

My dear sweet boy, I keep thinking you will be waiting for me when I get home from work.  Sometimes I wake up and reach to your spot next to me and wonder where you are.  Then I remember, and I am sad all over again.

But today was easier than yesterday, and time will heal,  as it always does.