Friday, July 26, 2013
I wish I had plans for tonight.
Something besides sitting through
a three and a half hour lecture on Pathology.
Because of the state founder's holiday
on Wednesday-- Pioneer Day--
we have class tonight when normally we don't.
I'm so needing a break.
How I'd like to go somewhere.
Not have the pressure of study and classes and tests hanging over my head.
But I'm starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
And this is what I chose.
And this is what is now.
Isaac went fishing
with my sister and his cousin this afternoon.
Sam went to another lake yesterday for a student council retreat and comes home sometime tonight.
I wish I could have gone with them.
I told everyone the other night
how much I'd like to go camping.
Just to lay out under the stars and gaze.
Surround myself in the trees.
Feel enveloped, safe in these mountains that surround me.
These summer days pretty much seem to be a routine.
The home rhythms are a comfort.
I can find solace here at home, I remind myself.
Sometimes, it finds me and
sometimes I have to go looking for it.
Open my eyes to the abundance that's right before my eyes.
I don't need to go on some adventure to find it,
even though a change of scenery sure would be nice.
I stayed in bed longer this morning than I normally do.
I cleaned and tidied first thing
and I know that having order always brings calm and peace.
I gave two massages.
When I'm in that state of mind,
just allowing myself to be in the moment,
it's a kind of meditation for me.
As relaxing as it is for my clients.
I found myself needing to bake this afternoon.
After all, the bananas were getting brown.
It's a centering thing, too.
And wandering around the house
with my camera is a joy I needed and found today, too.
Happy Weekend, friend, and thanks for stopping by.
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
Doesn't it just make your day when you see a handwritten card or a thank you note in the mailbox? I know how much it means to me. A treasure amongst the bills and junk mail. Each heartfelt expression like these that I've received, whether from my immediate family or friends, is tucked away in a special box I keep next to the fireplace. It's my own little love-note treasure chest. I guess I'm sentimental this way.
My Dad knows how good it feels, too. It's been an amazing discovery for me to see this in him, as it has been with all those other good qualities I've acknowleged. He understands how good it feels to know that someone is thinking about you. How good it feels to be remembered. To feel special. To be noticed. To be thanked even for the small stuff. What might seem insignificant or not that big of a deal to most people.
For the last year or two, my Dad has spent a lot of his time and energies writing thank you notes. He was thrilled when I gave him and my mom a set of my photo cards for Christmas last year. And me so taken aback when he said he wished I had given him his own full set and when was it that I could print up more. He writes his thank you notes between reading stacks of historical non-fiction and doing family history (genealogy) research. It's becoming a big deal. It's kind of like his thing. Becoming a weekly, if not daily part of his routine. I can just see him, sitting on his Lazy-Boy in his bedroom; bifocals perched on his nose, his special fountain pen in hand. Thoughtfully thinking about who needs to be thanked. Who needs a pick-me-up. Mom says that the old ladies at church (or the teenagers who "might need a lift".) keep coming up to her to tell her how "absolutely wonderful" it was to get one of my dad's cards. A real thrill. Talk about being "tickled pink"...
Every now and then, one of his cards comes in our own mailbox. Sometimes, I'll put them on the fridge just so I can get-- or be reminded of-- that warm and fuzzy feeling. That he loves us. Like the two that came this week for Isaac and Eliza. He wanted to thank them for coming with him down to the cabin. Wanted to tell them how much he loved that and loved them. Or the one for Sam last winter-- how much he enjoyed going to his basketball games throughout the season. These expressions are priceless treasures, I tell my kids. Something to hold onto and tuck into their scrapbooks like I've done with handwritten letters from my own grandmothers. Just to have something written in their own hand.
When I was over there visiting the other day, I told him, with tears in my eyes, how much all of this has meant. How much it means. To me and to the kids and to all these people. My sister, my mom, and I giggled about his new supply of "Tickled Pink" cards. The set with pink envelopes even. Who would have ever thought, we say.
"Is this the same Dad I knew growing up?" I ask myself.
I think he's always had a soft heart (tears come easily, way too easily to him.), but now that he's getting older, he's not afraid to let the demonstrative, affectionate, tender side show. It just may be that I'm seeing a new side of him that was there all along.
Monday, July 22, 2013
I've been having the itch to head into my sewing room.
Whip something up fun for my summer wardrobe.
I wanted to find a pattern for a peasant-type blouse.
You know-- Empire waist, scooped and gathered elastic neck, capped sleeves.
Cool, breezy, simple, and easy to whip out.
I went to the fabric store on Thursday.
Even though I should have studied.
Sometimes, I find that it's good to have a release from the grind.
I found just the right pattern-- Hooray!
Every time, I have to open it up and make sure I can understand the things before I buy it.
Sometimes, the pattern language and directions can be so confusing.
(And sometimes, I'm a little dense.)
I was happy to find that the fabric that caught my eye was on sale, too.
I could wear these dresses every day.
Most summer days, pulling on a skirt-- especially one I've sewn up-- feels just right.
Now, I think I'll make some blouses if I can squeeze in the time.
And Eliza is now begging me to make her some, too.
There's something so satisfying when you make your own clothes.
And this goes for other creative endeavors, as well.
Whether it's arranging a simple flower arrangement, pulling together ingredients for something delicious (as well as pleasing to the eye) for the dinner table, organizing a drawer or closet, adding a thoughtful touch to make a space more beautiful, penning thoughts to create a poem, carefully composing a photograph to capture a fleeting moment in time...
When the creative urge strikes, I can't resist the pull.
I can't resist that happiness.
Monday, July 15, 2013
eating and cooking: A half a pan of sweet cherry cobbler I made for dessert last night is sitting in the fridge. We'll save the rest for tonight. More of last night's leftovers-- potato chickpea curry over rice-- made another appearance for me at lunchtime this afternoon. So good. Breakfast was my old standby these days: a handful of raw oats with a sprinkling of chia seeds, topped with almond milk and whatever fruit is available. Sliced frozen banana, raspberries, and mango today. With all the different combination possibilities, this never gets old.
Oh, and what a true pleasure it was to eat out of the beautiful bowl I picked up from my dear friend Norris (Potter Man) while at the local farmer's market the other day. Just holding the weight of it in my hands; the coloration, the form--perfect in every way for me.
doing: gave a massage this morning for a second time client. I'm slowly building up a steady clientele of which I'm grateful.
reading: I'm realizing that my days of carefree novel reading may be coming to a close, at least for the next little while, and possibly extending until October. I need to really buckle down and focus my reading time on my acupressure, trigger point, and pathology texts, (as finals are soon approaching for these classes), as well as set time aside between all the regular study time to prepare for my licensing exam that I'll take near the time I graduate this fall.
smiling: seeing a handwritten card-- her unique and instantly recognizable hand-- sitting in the mailbox this afternoon. A "just because" love note. A gesture so thoughtful and so kind. Making my day.
gardening: well, at least the plants are still alive. Even if they are in a jungle of weeds. Grateful that the children have taken over more of the watering duties. Hopefully, we'll be able to get out there soon and get things looking better than they are right now.
listening: I could listen to this song over and over. Which I'm doing a lot of these days-- Simon and Garfunkel's For Emily, Whenever I May Find Her. Oh, the sweet, mellow sound of that acoustic guitar...the poetic lyrics... I don't think I know of a song about an Emily, too. Oh, my heart...
viewing: I can't remember the last time I have been able to stay awake watching a movie. Saturday night, I almost made it through before I started to dozy off. Second time I've seen Baran; a beautiful Iranian film. You can find it on Netflix.
feeling: I'm tired. And sleepy. I didn't get much sleep last night and got up too early which is typical of me. If I'm moving and active, the lack of sleep doesn't get to me, but once I park myself to read or study (or watch movies), I'm a gonner.
wishing: I could take the pain away for this child of mine.
Friday, July 12, 2013
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
Friday, July 5, 2013
"I walk without flinching through the burning cathedral of the summer. My bank of wild grass is majestic and full of music. It is a fire that solitude presses against my lips."
"I only went out for a walk, and finally concluded to stay out until sundown: for going out, I found, was really going in."
"If you are walking to seek, ye shall find."