somepinkflowers

i will just say this

souvenir sunday

in all the world of things i love,
to leave home & then to come home
are two of the most delicious
~~~~~~~
treasure trove of small keepsakes
from recent adventure in san miguel de allende
~~~~~~~
some found, some bought, some gifted
~~~~~~~
{{ always, always it it The Memory Attached
that is the most precious to me }}
~~~~~~~
where oh where next & when ??

~~~~~~~

want to see my flip-floppy feet in mexico?
hard to resist, i know !!

join us for postcards from paradise
with rebecca over here ...

haiku my heart by the sea

trust me and do this:
make your way to the sea*side,
be baptized by Joy

~~~~~~~

i know, i know
it isn't like you can just drop everything
and BE here
but do pause
and think beachy thoughts today
of sun and salty air
whispering on your skin...

aahhhh, there, isn't that better?
~~~~~~

also, you might want to join us here
for more haiku my heart
with
dear recuerda mi corazon

~~~~~~~

i belong to the church of high hopes

Most everyday I am baptized by Waves of Hope.

I do not go looking for Hope,
it just seems to be there waiting on me
to get out of bed in the morning.

I have no idea how that happens,
but it does for me and for some other people, too.

Thank goodness.

We can go to bed at night all worried
about the lies we see in political ads on TV
which would make anyone sick
beyond measure...

{{ Sometimes I am sad about my momma being so old
and her missing my daddy
who died a few short years ago
but sometimes
we still expect to turn around
and see him sitting there. }}

Then
in the morning with the light of day
I am all glorified by home*made orange juice.

I look in the freezer and see 5 Eskamo pies
waiting
and I know
before the sun goes down I will eat one.

I do hope you are the same way,
that you wake up in Light
all awash in Great Expectations...

I think how fortunate we all are just to be Here now
snug in our little beds
{{ where ever they may be in the wide world }}
and how if we can pack our bag
and slip out of town every once in a while
THAT is just icing
on The Big Moon Pie of Life.

 

introspective sunday

I arrived home late last night to find a malfunctioning air-conditioner.
With crushing disappointment I read the thermostat.
Inside my bedroom the air sat stale and hopeless at 89 degrees.

On Saturday night, who are you going to call?

I took a icy shower and fell onto limp sheets around 11pm.
I tossed and turned and sweltered.
At 3 am I got up and took Yet Another icy shower.
Then I ate two Popsicles.

Why-oh-why do these things happen on a weekend?
I have no idea...
And a holiday on Wednesday!

At 4 am I dug into my quickly melting,
secret stash of Lindt intense orange dark chocolate.
I ate 4 small square pieces instead of my normal 2.
Around 5:30 this morning I fell asleep.

I woke up a few minutes ago in a pool of Florida dampness
which I call my bed.

I woke up absolutely stunned to find
I had actually made it through the night.

I woke up and put the rest of my secret stash of Lindt
intense orange dark chocolate into the refrigerator.

Tonight I will be better prepared.

~~~~~~~

{{ i am not complaining one little bit;
this is still a Postcard From Paradise }}

~~~~~~~

images of the sweet little patio at Discovery Yoga
where I study and practice yoga
so I might Better remain calm and peaceful
during all types
of unexpected
events

 

tourist tuesday and sanctuary where you find it, pantheon, rome

Like spicy pizza and sweet water-mellon I'll take my peaceful sanctuary when ever and where ever it comes my way.

Sanctuary for me doesn't always come in Religious Places ... but it helps.

The occasional angel hanging about in Stunning Glory ...

An altar with a Madonna & Child icon waiting
whilst others sit in silent awe ...

Tombs of long-dead noble people
who are remembered by grand flowers standing tall ...

Seemingly wise men from window-like niches in the wall, 
whispering secrets whilst looking down...

These may be visual signs of possible sanctuary ...
but maybe not.

In my favorite places of sanctuary I prefer tall ceilings

or no ceilings at all.

And always, always it is about the light.

An oculus with motes spinning on a sunbeam
will send me smiling to my own special High Heaven.

By light I am Transformed, see holy images and fall into deep meditation.

I love when that happens...

Breathing in the salty air whilst walking the beach as the sun rises,
sitting alone at the end of the dock on a quiet river,
swaying slowly on my front porch swing during a gentle rain...

Ahhhhhh....
Yes, yes, yes---> Cliche maybe
but these are all my sacred places.

Although,
sometimes it is good to get out of town
and rest in the spirit of a holy venue
where others have found peace before me.

{{ I bet you are the same way. }}

minor inconveniences

"What it comes down to is the small things," Tim explained as we ran and puffed our way along the 15 mile route.

Catching his breath, Tim goes on, "After much suffering in silence and even angry words, it is the minor inconveniences that does us in every time."

Tim, his wife, Jan and I were training for a half*marathon race.

About 20 people in our running group all start out together early on Saturday mornings but it was us three who seem to fall into the same pace after about mile 3 .

We were neither in The Slow Group or in The Fast Group which has often been the story of my life.

Tim, Jan and I were in The Steady As She Goes Group but we always finished the race. No matter what.

Tim was a Life Coach and flew to different cities giving presentations to groups at corporate conventions. Helping people work smoothly together in spite of their differences. Building esprit de corps.

Tim was a motivator extraordinaire.
I'll say...

Whilst we moved steadily across the miles I would pick Tim's brain as it was there for the picking.

Plus, as you well know by now, I am filled with questions. Always.

What makes some move on?
What causes folks to quit their job?
Why do married people throw in the towel?
What signal tells our brain we have simply had enough?
Why do we hit the road after being in the same place for so long?

I find Longevity to be an interesting topic on many levels.

If one cannot hang in there with satisfaction, one cannot hang in there for any great distance.

In road races.
In life. And so on...

"It is the minor inconveniences that occur over and over again , day after day, that will be the end of any relationship," Tim explained.

"If every day your husband uses the scissors and does not put them back, if you ask him kindly to please put back the scissors and he does not, because after all it is such a small thing, if day after day you have to go find the scissors, eventually you just get Fed Up."

"Hunting for scissors is such a minor inconvenience.
But you get the idea. Scissors is just an example."

That day after this run I stopped at the store and bought scissors.
All kinds of scissors.

Scissors for the kitchen, for the bathrooms, for every room in the house. Years later, to this very day, I see my scissors in every room waiting.

Quiet little symbols to remind me to Pay Attention To The Small Things.

Not to cut things in two, these scissors standing at the ready, but to keep things together.

tourist tuesday and notre-dame cathedral, paris

How is your neck doing these days? Loose, limber & able?

I ask because I have been doing TONS of looking up lately and there may be repercussions.

I bought my iPhone a new app for Christmas!
It is called Star Walk.

For $1.99 I bought the entire universe which in my book seems quite the bargain.

Naturally, because Star Walk is So Amazing, I have been pushing it on {{boring}} all my friends.

I think they are starting to hide when they see me coming at them.

My cell clutched in my right hand whilst wearing a dreamy expression on my glowing face can only mean One Thing these days.

"You have to look at this!" I insist.

I flap the phone skyward waving it to beat the band, stirring up the GPS until all manner of stars pop up gleaming.

New~agey music plays softly through the teeny speakers.
I am such a sucker for ambiance! Supernovae dancing!

"Just look at that!" I say thrusting my turquoise phone under a captured glance.

I easily share the entire universe I have come to own.
That is just how I am.
I would gladly give you the world and now with Star Walk I can.

"I bet you think that is a star, don't you, " I point to a wee golden dot pulsating on my phone screen and then to its matching actual twin in the dark sky over our heads.  

"... but it is not!"

I try to pause for effect but so jOyous am I, timing is now NOT my strong suit.

"That glow is actually Koronas-Foton which is an orbital observation satellite sent up by the Russians in 2009!"

I am rewarded with the glazed eyes of the missing~in~action.

Clearly my friend has better things on her mind like, say, her grocery list.

Difficult for Koronas-Foton to compete with eggs and bread and cheese.

As I mentioned the other day, several of my friends have been selecting powerful words to guide them through 2012.

This one wisely chose the short but sturdy word:  UP.

UP is everything, really.

UP is the best way to feel.

UP is the sky overhead with Koronas-Foton, whether we care about it or not.

Every where I go folks are looking UP for one reason or another.

Thank goodness.

If you should find yourself at any point in your life in Notre~Dame Cathedral, take a seat and look UP.

When your are in Notre~Dame you are at the very center of France from which all distances are measured.

Look around, too, while you are there, but do look UP.

The outside of Notre~Dame is a wonder, too. The facade is amazing. There are few things I enjoy more in life than a well~placed flying buttress.

I could walk around Notre~Dame all the day long and shoot 1000 photos. 

Mr. Boredom would never even show his face.

Well, I say that because I have done.

Today we are just sitting here inside Notre~Dame where it is warm and people~filled.

Always, always it is about the light, isn't it?

Light shining in and out and UP...

Glowing faces in candle light.
Faces looking down and out and Up.

Today I give you Notre~Dame and candles and Koronas-Foton and UP.

2012 is going to be such a time of sharing!

haiku my heart loves a virgin a day, part 2

plastic flower love,
behind rusted window bars,
Your peace still shines on...

over here we honor the madonna--
as an offering of beauty & light--
during the first 12 days of december.

i hope you have a moment to visit a few...

a virgin a day and johnny depp

I watched this movie for the 3rd time this week-end.

Not because it is my favorite movie but because I had the DVD checked out from the library when I sprained my toe at a Christmas party last week-end but that is another story.

Whilst I sat with toe propped high and packed with a small, unopened bag of frozen baby English peas I needed comic relief of the Johnny Depp kind.

Could he BE any cuter running around the red-tiled roof tops of Venice wearing blue-striped pajamas? I think not.

Anyhoo, Angelina Jolie aside, the most glam star of the movie is clearly Venice.

I love Venice.
Who does not love Venice?
To love Venice is to love life in all its aging-and-no-one-is-getting-any-younger-over-here glory.

Nothing decays quite as well as watery Venice.

Standing proudly over the city is the watchful dome eye of the Basilica di Santa Maria della Salut, built to honor St. Mary the Saint of Health and Salvation. Perched over the entryway arch is Mother Mary, as seen in my photo above. 

It is here where I spent my coins lighting candles and making deals with God for the Good Health of all those I love.

I bet you do the same thing, somewhere...

BTW, no one I love has yet come down with a case of the plague.

If you go here you will see more Madonnas housed inside the Basilica. They will take away your breath and then give it back to you refreshed.

I would never lie to you.
Well, I would never lie to you about Mother Mary.

~~~~~~~

Meanwhile over here we honor The Madonna--
as an offering of beauty & light--
during the first 12 days of December.

I hope you have a moment to visit a few...

dia de los muertos, dia de bloglandia

Today on Dia de los Muertos I honor my father
who taught me many things.

How to make a fort of newly raked leaves & then jump in it.
How to ride a red two~wheeler on the hill of our driveway without falling.
How to catch a softball in a well~worn leather glove.
How to root for the Home Team and eat popcorn at the same time..

How to make a kite from an old newspaper with rags for a tail.
How to beware of over~head wires.
How to have patience when the wind would not come.
How to take turns with my sweet sister.

How to catch a blue~gill bream, to clean it
and to fry it up in a pan.

{{"Get it off, daddy!" my mother said I shouted
and then she wrote this
on the back of the documenting b&w photo
of My First Fish Caught Ever in the History of the World.}}

My daddy taught me how to rise early in the day--
whilst others were still sleeping--
to pick up the best shells along the beach,
a skill I find useful to this very day.

My daddy taught me how to stand outside under the trees--
on a little stool because I was so young--
to open oysters at a ricketty wooden table.
How to slide the salty blobs onto a saltine cracker
and eat them
on
down
even when my mom & sister would not.

How to spend vacations with family
even thought they might live 4 states away
and we would have to Make Time to travel there  to visit.

How to visit old people in the hospital
when I really only wanted to play outside in the Florida sun.

{{ At the time I had no idea he was training me
to care for him many years later, to care for my dear mom now.}}

Today on Dia de los Muertos I honor my father
who ate my first hard biscuits made from scratch
over and over again until I finally got it right
and he never once complained.

Then he turned around and did the same
with my powdery brownies too dry to swallow.

The scrambled eggs were yet another story...

Today on Dia de los Muertos I honor my father, Max,
with love and memories both overflowing.

I try to remember everything about my dad
but really it takes no effort at all.
None. What so ever.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

{{ This posting is part of the Dia de Los Muertos celebration organized by rebecca at recuerda mi corazon and Stephanie at Mango Studio for Dia de Bloglandia. Follow the links for more of the Art of Remembering where we honor those we love who are no longer here. Hey, daddy! }}

dia de los muertos the art of remembering

today i am over here in my studio--
remembering my daddy
and
building his altar
for dia de los muertos

 

{{ every sunday in october please join us
in the art of remembering }}

for days and days i waited

By nature I am not a patient person.

I will flip the pancake too soon before the perfect little bubbles have formed. Every time.

Patience is illusive to me as a new born butterfly.

:-)

Which brings my lesson...

I bought the fennel. And the dill. And the parsley. Flat-leaf AND curly.

I weeded. Watered. Waited.

They came, the butterflies, and left me 10,000 white teeny pearl eggs which started to wiggle and grow.

Every morning I watched.
Every afternoon I counted.
I never actually interfered but after each storm I rushed to count again.

The numbers dwindled as they are apt to do.

Fourteen yellow, black & white striped caterpillars grew thick as my little finger then conjured lime~green chrysalis magic.

This young, black swallowtail I watched all morning long as she Became and flew away.

By nature I am not a patient person.
Having her way, Nature is patiently teaching me my lesson.

Oh happy day!

almost always it is really up to me

"You get to choose," she said.

"There will be Pilates in the shade on the terrace behind the pool if you want to come."

If you know me at all, you know I hate to miss a thing.
I want to do it all even when I cannot.

Slowly, slowly I am learning how to choose. To choose wisely for me.

I am listening better to my head and heart and trying to select the Right Thing for me.

Sometimes others have a sweet hold on my hours.
Because they love me, because I love them back.

Mostly it is up to me to weigh things, to find the balance for myself.

I know you are the same way.

Busy weighing this and that ever minute of the day, mostly without even dwelling on it.

This is just what people do.

Seeking your balance. How to spend your time. Your energy.

Living somewhere between what you Want to do and what you Need to do.

Does it ever get any easier to decide, I do wonder?

Somethings are a Given. We have no choice.

Most decisions are not that urgent and mighty. We just float on down the stream left or right.

We seem to all end up in the right place.
Have you noticed?

Almost always it is really up to me.
Almost always it is really up to you.

To buy the boots, to savor the sweet, to say yes.
Yes.
Yes.
Yes.

Taking a breath I said No to the Pilates in the shade on the terrace behind the pool.

Instead, I followed my whispering desire to strike out on my own. 

And that is when I found these sunflowers tucked away in a garden.

Growing there with onions and pomegranate trees  in a tidy plot of properly cultivated salad vegetables and small fruit trees.

Standing strong and tall under the clear Moroccan sky.

Sunflowers heavy~headed and each nodding with one billion seed~babies. They could have been anywhere in the whole wide world practically, these sunflowers.

But here they were.
Standing next to me.

tourist tuesday and inside seattle jenny's garden

Last evening whilst strolling down by the creek to check post~Hurricane Irene water levels, three bats did swoop down at me to give pre~Halloween greetings.

Let me just say this:  I could not have been more pleased!

To come upon small unexpected pleasure is what I live for.

Unexpected pleasure is the stamp upon my Happiness Letter. It is what gets me through my up & down day.

Earlier this summer when it was still Spring~like in Seattle I visited this one.

From the moment I pushed open the tall, wooden gate to Jenny's front yard unexpected pleasure washed over me like calm, warm seawater in a shallow tidal pool.

Front & back yard, I hardly knew where to look first...

I felt most welcomed by my thoughtful hostess and her well~placed fancies.

And while the entire venue was magical in feel...

I was quickly drawn to details of soothing color and surprising form.

Oh happy day!

The flowers were praising the sun.

The little bits were blessing us all.

I wanted to be an elf  to play here all the live~long day.

Let me just say this:  I could not have been more pleased!

As Hurricane Irene sludged her proddy way up the coast last weekend I renewed my happy ways by taking comfort in small unexpected pleasures.

I curled up with a good book and a cup of hot tea as the wind~bands played around my garden.

I take comfort in knowing that after the storm Nature will return to Her blooming, self~cleaning manner.

Tree tops snapped by wind will sprout double the branches. Sodden flower~heads will fall and become home to slimy but useful snails.

Nature will right herself, this is do know.

I hope my friends up the coast did not suffer too greatly.

I hope good fortune smiled down on you in your possible time of need. I hope you had a good book and hot tea and maybe even cake.

No matter what The Crazies say about there being Hurricane Hype----->  high speed winds and encroaching seas are not to be ignored.

As nature rights Herself  I send you 2 wishes this day:  May you come upon small unexpected pleasure. May you have the time to drink it up.

tourist tuesday and the catedral of santa eulalia, part 2

A Disappointment can loom large if you let it.

Sometimes a Disappointment will lift its ugly, pock-marked head and point its black, beady eyes in my direction.

Mostly when a Disappointment happens I simple attempt to look bored and give a fake yawn as this buys my heart time to recover gracefully.

You might want to try that trick sometime if a Disappointment should ever look your way, which I hope it will not.

Go ahead. Try this---->Yawn, yawn, yawn...

I stood looking,  looking,  looking for the famous Bridge of  Sighs one fine May day only to find a false facade urging me to buy this.

I had come all that way...

Thank goodness Venice had other sights on which to feast, is all I can say.

Once I popped in here expressly to view this, I think it was. 

This amazing colored etching was off gallivanting around. Out of town visiting others. On vacation in New York or maybe elsewhere giving a seminar. Something. Somewhere where I was not.

I guess I should have phoned ahead.

Whilst I am happy that important things get cleaned, spruced up and persevered, sometimes I miss seeing The Actual Thing.

This was the case a year or so ago when I visiting the Catedral Basilica de Barcelona.

You might remember I showed you the tip top of this cathedral over here. 

I could not show you the front of the church as it was under wraps being washed to perfection. No one wanted this beauty tobe seen with her makeup off, I am thinking.

These things will happen when one travels. You show up and The Thing is off gallivanting or under wraps.

A Disappointment will lift its ugly, pock-marked head, and look in my direction.

So I went ahead and did this--->Yawn, yawn, yawn...

Then I said to myself, "Oh well, self, I guess I will simple need to come back here later. "

Today I present you the inside of the Catedral of Santa Eulalia.

Here a chapel. There a chapel.

Everyplace an opportunity to pray for patience and to pray for further travel opportunities.

A place to practice yawns in a peaceful location if no one is about to think you are rude.

Does your camera gravitate towards gargoyles?
I know mine does as we have so few of them in my home town.

Hummm...does this one look as if he might be giving a yawn, yawn, yawn...

Lately I have learning to watch what I wish for or else I might miss something else and stumble upon Disappointment.

Did you ever wish for a pony to live in your back yard when you were a small tyke? Maybe you were blowing out birthday candles and a wee pony popped into you sweet head.

"I want that!" you thought excitedly with assurance.

Did that happen to you?

Were you disappointed when a pony did not appear?

Or maybe one DID appear and then you  had to learn how to muck out the stall when THAT had no place at all in your original wish.

"Who?" I ask you, "Who would wish to muck out a messy pony's stall? Day after day after day?"

Well, certainly not moi.

Now I mostly ask for general things when I make a wish like Having a Pleasant Day! or possibly finding a new red wool coat by Calvin Klein on sale for only $89.

When Disappointment looks my way I yawn, yawn, yawn and move on through my life.

I will catch the Bridge of Sighs next time. I feel quite certain. I think it will not go visiting after all and it will be sparkling when I do see it, no doubt.

I have stopped asking for a pony in the backyard as wouldn't it trample all over the azaleas growing there anyway?

Now I look for the seagulls on the beach and find I am rarely disappointed.

Now I simply make myself available to geese in a cloister and then move on to the next possible adventure.

tourist tuesday and the catedral of santa eulalia

I will climb the tallest thing I can find so that I might look out to get the lay of the land.

I did that here and here  and here.

What you see in the photo above is the roof of the Catedral in Barcelona. You are looking at the backside of the front of the steeple.

If you could climb around to the front of the steeple and look down you might find Catalonians doing the sardana. This is not my most faovite dance in the world but I love when folks are having a grand time, don't you?

Most of the Catedral was built between 1298 and 1450 but it was not completed until the 20th century.

This was the view southwards. If one could see forever one would soon see the Mar Mediterrania and her treasures.

This view is looking more towards Montjuic and the Museu d'art Catalunya. I liked how the tall palms in the court yard look a bit like greenish mushrooms sprouting up.

Everywhere I go around the world things are broken and need to be fixed. Or they are dirty and need to be cleaned.

It happens to the best of us.

Once when I went here to see this lady, she was out getting spruced up. These things happen and I try not to take it personally.

My personal travel guru says, "Always plan on going back!" So I do plan.
And sometimes it all works out.

I will climb the tallest thing I can find so that I might look out to get the lay of the land.

Also, I climb the tallest thing in order to catch a glimpse of others doing the same thing.

I have no idea who these people are walking around on the top of the Catedral in Barcelona. Our paths will never cross again.

Wouldn't it be a hoot if this handsome gentleman turned out to be your uncle Charlie from Chicago!

Man. That would so make my day!

Maybe somewhere there are photos of me standing near a newly-added elevator.

"Look!" someone I do not know may be saying Right This Very Minute to someone else I do not know, "Who is that curly-haired somepinkflowers taking 10,000 photos? I bet she needs them for a blog or something!"

For me--with a photo of a person I do not know-- it is all about adding a splash of needed color or capturing a useful leading line.

A unknown person is just a moving, breathing bit of art to me most of the time.

Sssshhhhh. Do not tell my secret...

Sometimes I try to figure out if the posted signs are meant for me or not.

If there is a word that looks like 'peril' or 'electrocution' or 'death'  I do stand back.

For some reason I really wanted to walk out here amongst the flying butresses. But I did not. Not this time.

"Always plan on going back," I reminded to myself.

Here are some more people I will never see again walking on the church roof with me in Barcelona.

Why are they looking down when all the great stuff is clearly Up High?

"Look up! Look up!" I want to shout.

But maybe they know something.

Yes, I will climb the tallest thing I can find so that I might look out to get the lay of the land.

But lately I have learned to look straight down, too, because you never really know.

Even in high places flowers might just surprise me.
Thank goodness.

 

tourist tuesday and isola di san giorgio maggiore

"We are going to Italy next month," my cousin explained. "Maybe you can give me some tips."

"Well, yeah!" I thought to myself. "Your best tip would be to take me with you!"

I THOUGHT that but I did not say it for fear of seeming overly pushy.

My cousin and her family were flying into Rome, going on to Florence and then taking the train on to the Cinque Terre for some hiking.

Yum~yum.
Just thinking about this journey made my heart jump for joy. I could smell the pizza Margherita, I could taste the limone gelato.

Why, oh, why, can I not go every where with everybody?

Children were involved in this my cousin's first time trip to Italy and 4 adults.

Time was limited. Venice would not be viewed.

Me?
I am still over here with Venetian dreams dancing fresh in my memory. I longed for my cousin to see Venice.

Why, oh, why, cannot everybody go every where?

All afternoon my cousin and I, towns apart, communicated via cell phones and syncopated laptops.

"Click here. Double click there." I was so bossy.  I just know it. I was.

"Here, let me send you the link. This is a great place to stay! Be certain to go here. Are you writing this down?" 

I was beyond bossy.

But my cousin would miss Venice!

One of my favorite ways to get a visual handle on Venice is to leave her and look back at her from a far.

A five~minute vaporetto ride from St. Mark's Square is far enough to get the big picture.

When you jump off the boat turn around and take a good look back.

Then look up at the San Giorgio Maggiore Church built by Andrea Palladio.

You may recognize his style.

I think you can take an organized tour of the church but I like to meander along on my own with a paperback travel guide.

Tintoretto's works are all over the place.

My personal fave is his Last Supper because he paints in a few cats which I think gives it a nice touch.

I am not one bit Catholic but in Italy I feel Catholicism washing over me in the best sort of way.

I spend all my pocket~change on candles and say prayers for everyone I know. I cannot help myself.

I might even have said a prayer for you.

A church with a bell tower is a wondrous thing if you can climb to the top.

These bells rang whist I was perusing the skyline.

The sound went through me and resonated for the longest time. My heart felt strong and clear.

To climb high in a strange land is one of the best things I know to do.

Only if I had had limone gelato in my hands when the bells rang could the day, would the day, have been better.

To climb high and look higher.
To climb high and look down.
To climb high and look out and around.

To be in Venice and climb high and look down and out and around...

This was really heaven.
Not Heaven, but heaven~ly...

I guess Heaven would have been if  I were swimming in the posh Ciprani Hotel swimming pool with the rock stars.

From this angle Venice looks very manageable.
A person can just walk and walk and walk.

You aren't ever truly lost because you just run right up on the other side of the island.

Then you just turn around and go back.

It takes my breath away to think of all the art and architecture that calls Venice home.

To have this vulnerable island flooded over with the encroaching sea is unfathomable.

So many people from around the world visit Venice.
So many people from around the world want to save Her.

On every corner there are artists drawing and painting Venice to beat the band.

Even more people, like me, are snap~snap~snapping away to record every square inch.

Everywhere I looked I found amazing composition.

{{ I snapped this shot for my friends over here and here who have together taught me the importance of Rust Observation and Appreciation. }}

 

Here is what I am hoping--->
I hope my cousin makes it someday to Venice. I want her to see the low~slung beauty of this small chunk of land. I want her to walk among the few locals who are left to call this place home. I want her to see the waves of people who come to view the miracle of the man~made islands and the somewhat~confusing~but~always~enticing canals.

Mostly I want her to see me riding by in a vaporetto, waving and snapping her photo.

Oh happy day!

dia de bloglandia, me and my daddy

Pure honey, pure sweet honey, pure sweet Tupelo honey.

A last memory. Feeding honey to my dad near the end.

From my finger in the jar into his open bird mouth. Tongue reaching out.

For such a long time sugar was not allowed. Birthday cakes only. Little slivers of celebration.

Blood was tested, levels measured and meds swallowed.

Sneaky tastes of  sweets hidden when my dad discovered my mom's sugar stash.

About 10 months ago, with all the other health issues, sugar no longer seemed a Big Deal.

Besides. My dad never could remember WHY he could not eat sugar.

With Alzheimer's for my dad's constant shadow so many things were a mystery to him.

"Sometime I forget," he would say, shaking his head and smiling.

Somethings I will never forget. Or, rather, hope I never do.

My dad carrying me into the house from the car when I was so dozy from a long ride.

Half-way awake, half-way a sleep but all the way cared for and loved.

Summertime. Walking in the evening to the baseball game.

Sitting in the gloaming, cheering and watching moths pirouette and high dive under the stadium lights. More cheering.

My hand in my dad's on the walk home in the dark night. Feeling safe.

Early morning walks on the beach while others slept in late. The beach wide at low tide, shells galore. Too many to count. I wanted them all. Pockets stuffed full.

Catching fish with my daddy.

"Get it off!" I said when I was 4 , making a face at a 3" bream.

{{I know because my mom wrote that on the back of the B&W. "Get it off!" she wrote in quotes.}}

About a year ago my dad stopped being hungry. He was always full.

One mouthful of his favorite soup and he was done.

"I cannot eat all this," he would say.

My sister and I would give each other Looks.

My mom would say,"Am I not a good cook? You always liked my cooking."

I would lie and say, "Time for lunch!" even though we had had lunch only one hour before.

That is the thing about Alzheimer's. Sometimes you can use it to your advantage if you are willing to tell little white lies.

"Here is some beer, Daddy. You like beer!" I would say, handing him a frosted stein of apple juice.

"Ohhh. It is flat!" he would say, facing a face.

"We will buy you more," I would lie cheerfully, handing him a bit of cheddar.

With my dad. Raking oak leaves into piles. Jumping. Playing with my little sister in the piles. Rolling in them. Itching and laughing from it all. Leaf bits on my pillow in the morning.

Throwing a baseball in our front yard. My hand lost inside a leather mit 8 sizes too large. I can smell it now.

Teaching me to ride a 2-wheeler in our sloping drive-way.

"You can do it!" echos still in all I try.

Building a kite from balsa and newspapers. Waiting for the white glue to dry. Learning how to wait. Winding the string into a ball.

Walking to the open field near our house to fly the kite away from power-lines.

Always safely looked over. Always loving encouraged.

"No,these biscuits are not too dry," he would lie to me when I was working on my cooking badge. The biscuits turning to dust under his gentle touch.

"These biscuits are just right!" my daddy would say, telling me a little white lie.

And so near the end, when I knew The End was standing down the hall I fed my daddy sugar. Little bits of sweetness as his stomach was always so full for too much.

Maybe too full from too much life, too much pain, too much forgetfulness. 

I don't know. I think he was just done.

Max 

October 29, 1923       February 21, 2009

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So on this Day of the Dead I remember my daddy. I remember all these things--->the beach, the bike, the ball, the kite. Plus more.

My head and heart are filled with the natural sweetness of shared experiences stretched over a life time. My head and my heart are just the right amount of full.

I remember feeding my daddy pure honey, pure sweet honey, pure sweet Tupelo honey from my finger stuck into a jar. I remember his face so happy to taste sugar.

Such a better memory that feeding him sugar-free, lime jello from a little plastic cup.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Other Dia de Bloglandia postings are listed HERE

You will want to visit them all.

bonnie raitt, bubble and me

Lately I have found such comfort in Being Clueless.

For the longest time I thought that pleasure thrived and blossomed in Knowing.

Not being one of those kinds of ponies, I have learned a new trick. Maybe you already know about the freedom that comes from Giving Up Control. My sister has been preaching this to me for years.

Me? I have come late to that altar.

When the bubble moved into my left eye to work its magic I was all "Oh, no-ish!" but put on a brave front to get it fixed, fast. A brave front wearing a bit of an eye-patch for weeks.

I traveled no where but to FaceDownLand where all things are acceptable style-wise.

Thank goddess.

Everything wonderful depends on vision over here in my world.

Well, Vision and Voice are my 2 big things, really.

But you know that.

And then there is Listening, too.

When I found out Bonnie Raitt was going to be giving a concert here earlier this year I was beside myself with happiness. Her voice just carries me away.

Plus, her heart seems strong and sure.

I have followed Bonnie Raitt for years and years and so on.

As Leslie emailed it so perfectly to me, "Oh, I love her. I had all of her albums when I had albums."

Me, too! Only I motored on up to her CDs when they came out, having learned my ways with 8-tracks and knowing my personal weakness to own music.

Bonnie Raitt concert tickets went on sale while I was in the midst of family stuff and things with my dad. Other things took all the space in my heart. I could not plan that far down any road.

The concert tickets were quickly sold out.

Then, as life is apt to do, things changed.

I cannot remember the details but something happened in Bonnie Raitt's life. I think she was in the midst of family stuff and things. Maybe other things took all the space in her heart and she could not sing.

So, she had to change the date of her concert. Moved it from earlier in the spring until now in October.

Well, those with tickets already for the spring had their turn to snap up the seats. Then quickly, quickly THIS concert was sold out, too.

But you know me. I am ever hopeful. I just put it on the back burner and moved on. 

Then spring and summer happened and I traveled and beached and worked.

One day Susan at work gave me a Bright Idea. "We should be volunteers at the Amphitheatre!"

So that very day my application was in the mail and soon I was seated at a volunteer meeting.

I love how life works out sometimes.

I was set for big things! To view and hear great things!

Then Hole-in-the-Retina showed up and made me humble. You will never know how humble.

Hole-in-the-Retina took away my vision in trade for a possibly healing bubble and put me out of action for the longest time.

With a right eye seeing for far vision, my left eye now had fishbowl vision. Specks of black flotsam swim around in there where no goldfish dares to go. 

I am calling the black floaty stuff eye*confetti. A homecoming parade for my sweet Vision. When it arrives, there will be celebration. I will let you know.

This past week I started back to work slowly where everyone was so thoughtful and helpful. I just cannot tell you how fortunate I am. Truly. 

In the midst of weird&blurry vision I have surrounded my self --without even knowing how--by loving and understanding friends and c0-workers.

I am so touched how even strangers soldier on up to help the bumbly-stumbly.

Saturday I drove for the first time in weeks. It is 3 right turns, a few miles straight and then one left turn and I am at work.

I know, I know. I should have given Fair Warning. Especially as the few miles straight is on US1.

Remember, the bubble in my eye is smaller every day. Now I am looking through only about 1/3 rd of a fishbowl.

Saturday Night was the Bonnie Raitt concert. I was there as a volunteer. My first night out with bubble. We had the best time. Just me and bubble and Bonnie Raitt and hundreds of people with various imperfections, some visual, some not so.

I was a Stairway Greeter. This meant I stood where folks walk into the amphitheater and look at their tickets trying to read the little numbers of where to find their assigned seating.

"What do I do now?" is written all over the faces of those new to this venue. I had my little flash-light and COULD SEE the floaty numbers.

My job as 4th in line, after arms are waved and fingers pointed, my job was this--->
"Ladies restrooms are to the right; Gentlemen are to the left."  And this---> "Please take advantage of all the fine concessions.  Step right this way, please away from the stairs!"

That is all the time allowed for loquaciousness.

We loved that concert. Me and my bubble. And hundreds of other people. {{And I discovered this one, the warm-up guy, for the first time--->  Who knew?}}

Still, I am not seeing my best but loving life with a different vision, the same voice.

Lately I have found such comfort in Being Clueless. So many of us are. I fit right in.

I had the quietest Sunday on record. I took my audio book from Elizabeth B and went for a lovely walk. I took these shots with my little Canon set on Who Knows What.

I had the quietest Sunday on record and late last night I found my cell had been set to Silent from before the concert the night before. {{ Sorry about that, Constance. Sorry I missed your call but you went with me anyway and here it is. }}

Embracing my cluelessness I walk on.

BTW, did you know that a person can get poison ivy by playing lovingly with dogs that have been tromping in the fall breeze down by the creek?

Me neither...

{{ but now i know }}