somepinkflowers

somepinkflowers for my dad

We are missing you already, Daddy.

Max
29 October 1923 ~~ 21 February 2009

a fork in the road, a wave from the sea

When I sat down to write this post my roof was not leaking.

Rather, I did not know that it leaked. Now I know. It does.

Leak.

The rains came up from the east and it started pouring. Pouring.

I remember thinking to myself, "Well, I hope I get this posting finished before a storm comes along and takes out the power."

That is exactly what I was thinking when I started hearing this: dripdripdrip...

Which is now one of my least favorite sounds: dripdripdrip...

Anyway. I will worry about that later.

I wanted to tell you what happened yesterday.

While at the beach walking and taking in the fresh air I found a puffer fish sitting in the sand.

Holding court, yes, but clearly she had not planned this, her final journey.

I say she because through the pearly, shark-teeth-shaped spikes on her back you could look down and see her rosy body.  Even with the sharpnesses she looked so girly. A flower sitting on the white sand there in the February sun.

Six inches long and blown~up roundy, as was her way to fly, there she sat facing out to sea. Looking wistful almost.

As is my nature, I took her sitting there as a sign. What could I learn here, I wondered? What is Missy Puffer Fish trying to tell me?

Apparently along the way, Missy Puffer Fish made a wrong turn.

She turned left at the last wave when a right wave was called for. Now she sits high and dry and I am too late to save her as one missing eye points out this fact as I circled around.

Now she is toast, or at least lunch.

It happens to the best of us.

We turn left instead of right and then: boom!  We find ourselves sitting high and dry in the noon~day sun when what we want is low and floating along in the calm shallows. Or something.

Me? I have the faith of the well~traveled. Hardly ever do I turn into toast.

Things happen. Another train will come along. The cafe will open again at 4. A roof can be repaired.

dripdripdrip...

I dance along and try not to carry too many burdens, too much baggage.

I try to seek out the Creative Approach, looking for the Art in Life, the Art of Life, the Art of Living Life.

I try to take the time to slow down and look around whilst I am multitasking.

You know me. I do not want to miss a thing.

A  road~trip is good for the soul in the same way that biodiversity is good for the pond.

Differences make me feel more alive. I have learned to look up. From this one I have learned to Deep Listen. From this one I have learned to Pay Attention.

When traveling my eyes are bathed in new~found wonder and my heart sings, "My goodness! Will you just look at that!"

In Florida a short road trip can take a person back in time, back to nature.

Or not.

Much of my favorite Florida has gone missing. But still I look.

In Florida a short road trip can take a person to the airport and then up and faraway to amazing places.

But all states have that, don't they?

All states have roads that can take you back in time to when you weren't or forward to where you think you want to be.

Sometimes I find sustenance in the most common of places. The Most Common.

Yes, in the least likely of locations I might find a thing or event that transports me to where I need to be.

In Florida on a short road trip I am in the flow and enjoy the unusual.

And, as always every where, I try to welcome the new and different. I do not want everything to be just like at home or why bother?

{{ I make a habit never to compare toilet~paper OR ice~cubes OR the lack of either when I travel anywhere. Seriously. Such bad form. I mean, really. I feel certain you do not compare, either, but go about the earth well~prepared... }}

I try to see myself differently. I forget the everyday and go along for the ride.

Even though I am just a regular person, when I travel I become somepinkflowers~in~wonderland.

I bet you do that, too.

I hope you do that, too.

In Florida a short road trip can sometimes force you into decision~making even when you do not want to think much. There is TONS to see and so little time.

Why, even I cannot be everywhere at once. And I have tried.

I bear up and Pick Just One. My fork in the road. The fork I use to eat up my yummy adventure.

In Florida a short road trip can encourage you to let things take you Over The Top.

For someone like me who thinks that biodiversity is good for the pond, a trip to central Florida where giant mice sport white gloves, is a fun place to visit once every 10 or 15 years or so.

Some days I feel I have turned left when maybe I should have turned right.

Still, I have no plans to end up sitting high and dry any time soon like the girly Missy Puffer Fish. But who is to say?

You know me. I do not want to miss a thing.

While I dream of this place and this place, also I long to drive here and here. As long as I can, I will dream and plot and plan. I hope you come with me.

Except now I must go deal with: dripdripdrip...

one world~one heart & all the world hearts a winner

I love how things happen out of the clear blue sky.

So today under the clear blue sky here in Florida I visited my Random Number Generator down by the creek. Today was the day to select the winner of the verdant necklace. And so I did.

Do you remember that I asked you to tell me where you would wear the verdant necklace if you won? Do you remember?

Well, I love how you put your imagination to work and how you gave me yummy stories to nibble on. You fed my travel soul with tales of this place and that place and all the while I wanted you each to win. I did.

I wanted to make 500 verdant necklaces so everyone could win. But that is just me and my way. I always want everyone to win everything. But I could not make 500 verdant necklaces.

Plus it was my birthday last week and I was away. {{ And my sweet dad has not been at his best health so my heart was not into jewelry making, if you get my drift. }}

Still. 

All in all, I discovered new places to visit and poke around and explore and so on.  Man, did you have any idea how many creative ones would be a part of Miss OceanDreamer's One World One Heart dream?

Me neither.

Thanks ever~so much again to all who played my story telling game of where to wear the verdant necklace. I feel I am the winner for having you come to visit my garden wall and entertain me with your talk of parties and vacation holidays and such.

But you want to know who won, don't you?

The winner of the verdant necklace is------> Tumble Fish Studio.

Why don't you drop in and see the new home of the verdant necklace and tell Tumble Fish Studio  that somepinkflowers  sent you.

Oh Happy Day!

Oh Happy One World~One Heart Winner Day!

we should all be so lucky

She was bent over trying to lift the worn book~bag up onto the counter and she would not accept help from anyone passing by. Her curled, gray hair--thin with tender, pink scalp peaking through--brushed the display featuring The Camel Bookmobile which, in turn, tumbled loudly to the carpeted floor.

The Camel Bookmobile bookmarks splayed over the carpet like cards on a blackjack table only there was not an ace in sight. Not one. Still, I had that special feeling that this frail woman was a winner. You know how you can just tell. You get that feeling.

"These are all late and it is not my fault," she explained, pulling the hardback books out of the bag one at a time. She piled them neatly into stacks. The circus was in town in that book~bag. It was that deep. If a tiger lived in there, it was tired and sleeping. The books continued to pop out like 50 clowns crawling out of one small, polka~dotted Volkswagen. Even from here I could smell the grease paint.

"This is going to cost me a fortune, I am afraid," the elderly library~patron fretted, "but I do not mind paying. Not one bit."

Already she was reaching for her coin  purse. It was one of those multi~colored, beaded ones that snapped open and shut with a metal clasp. At least one million times it had snapped open and shut. That purse had seen its day. Now it was seeing mine.

Inside the money danced a jingle. From where I was standing it sounded like happy money.

I rushed to easy her mind, "Well, the fine is only 10 cents a day for books. It won't be much."

"I know," she comforted me in return. "Just tell me the total. It will be OK."

So sweet was her smile, so soft was her voice that I didn't want to reply. Clearly she was someone's grandmother. Generations were at work here. Most likely she had been busy making bread from scratch or going to the doctor's office for her rheumatism or some such thing. I searched for signs of flour.

I could see blue veins on the top of her hands, skin paper~thin. Her knuckles were swollen and knotty.

I could smell lavender. Soap, I think. Maybe talcum powder. Do they make that still?

I always hate to make the grandmother's pay fines. Especially the ones with clear blue eyes that spell Trust with a capital T. When you look into eyes like that it goes on forever and you see your own history pictured there. Going way back. All women are sisters and aunts, aren't they?

Plus, what was the rush? Hasn't every grandmother on the face of the earth hurried her entire life to get things accomplished on time?  Iron that shirt. Make those cupcakes. Repair that waffle iron. Always busy and, still, they usually manage to outlive the grandfathers.

Not that I would know about grandmothering but I could imagine.

I wanted so to give this one a break, this little lady with the worn book~bag and the purse that snapped and who loved to read.

Why, oh, why could she not pay her fine in brownies?

"That will be $3.30, ma'am," I said in my best southern~girl~brought~up~proper voice, the one I had learned from  my own grandmother, the one from Baltimore who wore white gloves when she moved to Florida even thought no one else did.

"But," I went on, stalling for time, putting off the dirty deed, " you do not have to pay it all at once."

"Oh, do not worry," the grandmother soothed and assured. "I have the money. It is just that I let my mother use MY library card and now the late fees are on MY permanent record. Next time I am making her use her own card."

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Want to see me in a pink dress celebrating TONS of birthdays? I know, I know! A dress! Celebrating! Happy birthday one and all! Then go HERE.

Want to know what else SPECIAL is happening on Thursday, February 5th? {{A little hint---> it rhymes with patella }} Then go HERE.