Gentle in manner, resolute in execution....

ABC & Me....

2008-05-20T19:09:00.001-05:00

(ABC of NC is the center for children with autism where I work part-time.)

When I first began working at ABC a few years ago, I was impressed and amazed with the ability of each teacher to play so wholeheartedly with their students. There was no self-consciousness, just intensely focused devotion to engaging their child. If that meant emulating a 3 year old or a 7 year old, then that's what happened. Hopping, jumping, splashing, sliding, racing, giggling, rolling games and laughing fun-filled messes extraordinaire were everyday events.

I've always been a bit reserved and actually used to be very shy. But shyness and ABC simply can't coexist. I've rolled down grassy hills with a 3 year old, zoomed around the building playing super hero games with a 7 year old, decorated my feet with shaving cream & paint with a 2 year old, ran loud giggling races down the hallway with the same 2 year old, been submerged in the ballpit, raced on scooters, jumped on the trampoline, danced on the crayon balance beam, sang every childhood song known to man, learned new songs about having a "party in my tummy" and the yumminess of "fruit salad", played in the mud, made oobleck, bubbling volcanoes and ooey-gooey paper-maché.

When I'm with one of my students, the rest of the world pretty much ceases to exist, because they are my focus and they are my joy. To say that I love my job, doesn't even begin to come close to expressing the way I feel.

Recently, on a trip back to Illinois to visit my mother-in-law who is a patient in ICU, I was able to spend time with my 3 & 7 year old nephews. They were very well behaved and were doing such a great job of being quiet and sitting down in the ICU waiting room. After about an hour of watching them do their very best to "be good", I couldn't take it anymore. I persuaded them to join me in playing lily-pad jumping games across the floor tiles, followed by zooming races across the hall (where we wouldn't disturb anyone). Races turned into super hero leaps and special cool jumps. Then we went on a quest around the hospital, watching the people from up so high walk around like ants on the ground, mountain climbing up 7 flights of stairs, pretending to swim in the fountain and giggling over how the elevator made our tummy's feel "tickly".

By the time we were done, they were ready for a snack and quiet time and my tension level had dropped down tremendously.

Kids and playing - it's an addiction. :)

a breath of hair....

2007-11-25T20:19:00.000-05:00

I was sitting in church today...enjoying the music....contemplating communion - my past actions, some of which I deeply regret, the multitude of things for which I have to be thankful....my recent birthday that was splendiferious for so many reasons....the changes I would like to make in my life. All the usual spiritual aspects that tend to be a part of sitting still, focusing and nurturing my faith.

It's hard for me to sit still and just do one thing. Always has been. But I do try.

Usually I manage pretty well. But today...... There was this little elderly lady in front of me with the most beautiful soft white head of hair. I hope my hair turns that beautiful snowy white color when its time. And she was dressed in an elegant dark purple/burgundy-ish dress. Which tended to be a splendid background for that one lone snowy white hair that was laying so peacefully, but so very obviously, on her shoulder. I tried so very hard to ignore it. I mean really, it wasn't hurting anything just laying there. Besides, it wasn't any of my business. It's not like I even knew her and could reach up and flick it off for her. Which would have made my life considerably easier. But it was like a spotlight was shining on it, making me antsy crazy.

My gaze was continually and repeatedly drawn to that one lone snowy white hair. I determinedly looked away. And successfully managed to focus on the music or speaker for about ooooohhhh...30 whole seconds. Praying, by default, made it easier because I had to close my eyes. But like a magnet, that single beautiful snowy white hair, pulled my gaze to it, over and over again.

So I blew at it.

Softly.

Gently.

Unobtrusively.

Hoping that she would just think a cool breeze was blowing on her neck, since it was delightfully cold outside, even though the church was comfy warm.

I was so pleased when the third gentle blow made it move. I almost had it off of her shoulder! One more breath of air should have done it!

Then my daughter smacked me on the leg and hissed at me to stop it. Geez! I was so close and she wanted me to stop?!?!

Pfffft. I blew one more time and it shifted until it was almost touching the back of the pew. The suspense was killing me! My daughter was grin-glaring at me, whisper-threatening me...but that that snowy white hair was beckoning me and I had to, HAD to get rid of it!

So I oh-so-casually lifted my hand up as if I were going to touch the back of the pew to readjust the way I was sitting or reach for a hymnal in the back of the pew. Heck, I didn't care what I had to do in the realm of normal behavior, as long as I could reach oh-so-slowly, oh-so-nonchalantly and oh-so-slyly pluck it off of her shoulder!!!!!!!!!!! She never even felt me removing it. No one but my daughter even noticed.

I was that good.

And dayum it felt soooooooooooooo wonderful to be able to nestle back into my pew and focus on the music and sermon.

My soul was at peace. In church. As it should be. Ya know?

Ziplining fun!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2007-11-05T18:25:00.001-05:00

Carolina Ziplines Tour


http://www.carolinaziplines.com/index.html


I set this up for one of our staff workdays. Everyone had a GREAT time enjoying this team building FUN day!

After the first short zip across a ravine, the ziplines move up into the treetops, where Nickell (the owner) built a station-to-station course with cables of varying lengths and steepness.

You take off from (and land on) wooden platforms that he has lashed to the trees with thick metal cables. They sway a bit, but that’s because Nickell was careful to suspend them without having to drive stakes and nails into the trees. They’re plenty safe, and afford views of the forest below that you otherwise couldn’t get unless you’re covered with brown fur and hoard acorns for food.

You can go as fast or as slow as you want. If you stick your feet straight out in front of you and lie back flat, you can cut down on the wind resistance and really get moving. You brake by pulling down on the wire with a heavily padded and gloved hand.

It was sooooooooo awesome!!!!!!!!!!!!   We even managed to make the local newspaper and TV news.

http://tinyurl.com/2xu83m

http://tinyurl.com/2jpqyo

Kessie

2007-08-26T14:00:00.000-05:00

She was a 7 week old chocolate-colored fluff ball of affection that
attached herself to me with determination and utter devotion. Where I
went, she went and her moods reflected mine to an eerie degree. Some
thought so anyway. I didn't. To me it was natural, because of that
special bond that can sometimes develop between a dog and owner.
I spent so much time playing with her on the floor, teaching her to sit,
stay, shake, lay down and all the things you do to try and create a bond
with a new puppy so that you have that wondrous relationship that
somehow fills a spot in your soul.

I'd always wanted a chocolate lab. I chose the timing of looking for her
until the kids were 6 & 9 years old so that if all went well, they
wouldn't have to experience the loss of a beloved pet while they were
kidlets. We went to the Humane Society and voila, there she was.

She was soon to turn 11 years old, and they are now 17 & 20, so that
worked out pretty well all in all. They certainly enjoyed her while
growing up, but since she had attached herself to me, they are sad
today, but not grieving like I am.

A week ago she was romping, playing chase with me in the backyard and
roughhousing with our other dog, Cloud. It was impossible to tell which
one of them was 11 years and which one was 1 1/2 years old.
And now this morning I held her head, gently rubbing between her eyes
like she loved for me to do and telling her what a good girl she was,
so that the last things she felt and heard were pure love.

A friend suggested that I write about her, to help with my sadness. To
remember all the funny, goofy, or amazing moments that made her
a part of my heart for so long. But I find that it just hurts to much right
now. So I'll save that for another day.

I went into work for a few hours today, just to get away from the house
and that twilight zone syndrome of thinking you see the pet you've lost
out of the corner of your eye. Or the slam dunk feeling of harsh reality
that hits when you go to pet them, or feed them and they're not there. I
work with such a special group of people. Their hugs and commiseration
were just the soothing balm I needed.

Our pets are always, always worth the inevitable and inescapable pain of
losing them. Because the joy they bring is unique and beyond compare.
But those first few hours, and days are hellishly hard to get through.....

Stone Mountain

2007-01-27T22:27:00.000-05:00

It's a challenge to explain Stone Mountain's terrain. http://www.ils.unc.edu/parkproject/visit/stmo/do.html

When you hike in North Carolina, you expect red clay, boulders, tree roots, streams/rivers, cliffs and possibly waterfalls. Initially, the beginning of the 5 mile summit trail looks like a usual mountain trail with roots and rocks. Although it quickly becomes very steep and rugged. You don't know what you're in for until you hit the first granite slope. But, it's a small one in comparison to what is ahead, still you don't know this, and you assume it's just an interesting occurrence. Nope. It's only the beginning of many.

This was my 4th time hiking at Stone Mountain, 2nd time to do the dome summit, so I knew what to expect, but it's still one of my most unnerving hiking experiences. It's not only the steepness of the trail, and it's not just the fact that the "trail" consists of finding the painted red dots sporadically placed far and wide across each granite slope. It's the sobering realization that if you fall, there is nothing to catch you and it would be a long, long, long slide to the bottom of the mountain. Sometimes we were hiking with our ankles bent at such a severe angle in order to keep upright. It's more like mobile tilting. Hiking shoes with soles that grip well are required because there are no boulders, trees or any type of hand holds. I never worry when I hike with my brother though. He's been trained in mountain rescue, and had completed some of his training at Stone Mountain and always finds a safe path.

Each slope is incredibly smooth except for the various pock marks from the frequent lightening strikes. Seeing them dotting every granite slope of Stone Mountain makes me wonder what the homesteader's at the settlement built at the base of the mountain must have thought when it stormed. It had to have been mind-boggling. I understand why no one is allowed near the Stone Mountain dome, Wolf Rock or Cedar Rock during a storm, but I sure would like to see mother nature's powerful display.

I love the rock & cliff colors found at Hanging Rock and Pilot Mountain, but Stone Mountain is a dull gray granite. What gets to me about it is the utter magnitude of each rock face, the awesome solid mass of a mountain that you know has withstood the centuries in much the same state. It's like I imagine the lunar landscape might look like in person. Gray, forbidding, massive and yet compelling nonetheless.

Once we made the summit, we stopped for a picnic and restorative chocolate. :) And picture taking. I found two adjacent lightening strikes shaped like butterfly wings. I tried to capture the wonder of Stone Mountain, but the photo's I uploaded to Snapfish don't come close to conveying its unique beauty.

After lunch we hiked across the summit, through the woods and down to the waterfalls. This time, before we headed down to their base, I searched for their source and was surprised to find that it's a stream a lot smaller than I had anticipated. But oh my gosh, it goes so fast, and is so loud and violent anyplace where it's obstructed. I now understand how it creates the beauty and power of the falls.

We began the trail at 1pm and got back down to the comfort station as 5pm after pausing for a bit at the base to watch some rappellers. They looked like tiny specks on the side of Stone Mountain. If you look closely at the last few pics, you can see them in the crease of the long vertical edge.

http://tinyurl.com/yhamek

Downtime Up High

2007-01-12T21:26:00.000-05:00

I hiked alone for three hours on Sunday. Alone enough to be by myself, but aware that other people would be on the same trail so I don't have to worry about being too isolated. I chose a strenuous trail that I know well because I wanted to test my level of endurance at this point. It had been several months since I had dared to try it. May, in fact.

Lost the trail after a few yards...blocked with trees...mudslides...piles of dirt and branches hid holes, so I had to be extra careful and hike around a lot of obstacles that are never usually present. We'd had a lot of wind and rain last week. A tad bit more strenuous than I had planned, but dayum it felt good to do it anyway and not hurt!

Found the clear trail along the bottom of the cliffs and was frustrated to have lost my water bottle somewhere down the mountainside. But, still had the chocolate, so all was well. I slowly made my way back up to the top, greeting rock climbers and other hikers along the way.

Laying flat on the top of my favorite cliff, looking down far below to the trail that I had been hiking on.... wind gently blowing all around, swirling my hair into my face...able to peek into the sun with my hair filtering the brightness of the setting sun.

Water drip-dropping from this teeny tiny stream going over the cliff to form a cascading sheen down the side. As many times as I have hiked that trail, I've never seen that stream present or the way it made the rock faces so incredibly beautiful in a different way than before. It fascinates me that each time I go there is something new and wonderful to discover.

The sunset.... the massive giant star dropping from the sky so quickly I could see it happening. How many times can we gaze at the sun and actually see its movement?? It had turned that unique shade of glowing-ember orange that showcases its power, but yet is dimmed enough that our eyes can still look on in awe.

I stayed until the lights started popping on down below me in the surrounding countryside. I always think they look like fairy lights, because they just magically appear where you didn't even know there was a house or road.

Snapfish Pics
http://tinyurl.com/y3n93d

There are those moments...

2006-12-01T11:55:00.000-05:00

Moments of such intense personal happiness, not reliant on anyone else, when you know what it is to feel like a little kid again with that funny tickly feeling in your stomach as you anticipate something important to you.

I've been a tad tense the past few months for obvious, and some not so obvious reasons. There have been goals to reach for each week and/or month that signified important aspects of reclaiming my life post-surgery. October flew by so quickly last year that I swore this year I would embrace all the fleeting moments of flame-colored trees and the kiss of winter in the wind. I've been doing that in small ways here and there although I haven't been able to do it at quite the intense level I had hoped for. This weekend was all about ensuring that I get to the trails to be immersed in the scents that are unique to fall and the colors that soothe all the jagged edges inside of me.

Yesterday, driving up, down and around the winding mountain roads, looking at the trees, feeling their hues of warm amber, vibrant red, crispy golden sunshine yellow, and burnt sienna permeate my soul to the very center of me.....that ever-elusive and always surprising tickle of pure sparkling happiness came out of nowhere. The smiles and the bubbling laughter followed in quick succession.

A close friend of mine who lived in Wisconsin, (when I lived in Florida), used to take pictures of the fall leaves and winter snow for me because she knew I needed my fix each year. I took over 75 pictures of leaves, waterfalls, etc. yesterday. But I only posted 16.

http://tinyurl.com/y93gob

No.....and Yes

2006-08-05T13:19:00.001-05:00

NO = you can't go hiking in the mountains whenever you wish.

NO = you have to stop biking with your brother.

NO = you should no longer walk with your neighbor Patsy up and down the hills of your neighborhood.

NO = you can't lift anything over 5 lb.'s

NO = you really should minimize the amount of times you climb the stairs in your own house.

As of May 23rd my life instantly and unexpectedly consisted of NO to just about everything and yes to many things I would have emphatically chosen to say No to forever,

I could have done without the feeling of dread when my family physician's office called after a week of multiple tests to tell me that she wanted to talk to me in person, to "discuss" the results. It would have been less frustrating if I hadn't had to help her deal with her own denial as we discussed the results. I had done my research and knew that even though she kept insisting that a laparoscopy would be possible, everything I had read clearly stated that when cysts are 6cm in size and there are more than one, well, a laparoscopy is simply not feasible. Waiting for her to go over my test results with her own gynecologist/college friend was emotionally draining, as she confirmed what I already dreaded hearing. Major surgery was rapidly appearing on my horizon.

Most of all, I would have really preferred to have bypassed the feeling of utter terror when I was sent to the oncology surgeon. Naturally, I was deeply scared for myself, but the terror that felt like ice in my veins, stemmed from how it would affect my children. Losing my dad a few years ago to lung cancer was a nightmare experience for them and I hated, with every fiber of my being, having to walk into the cancer center because I knew how that reality would affect them.

So I didn't tell them where I was going, just that I was seeing a specialist. Details could wait for later.

My surgeon was incredible! I have never, even in working in the field of oncology, ever met a man with such gentle compassion and empathy for the questions and unspoken fears of his patients. I've also never placed a doctor on a pedestal, because that has always seemed unrealistic and also unfair, since they are human and fallible, just as we all are as human beings. But, for the first time in my life I easily see how it happens... that a doctor impacts your life to so remarkably, so distinctly, you can't help but place him up there.

He was honest, forthright and yet somehow encouraging. Surgery was scheduled for June 13th, with no option for the small unobtrusive bikini cut I hopefully requested, because he explained that he had to be able to access my entire abdomen for possible cancer staging. I didn't frantically embrace the ramifications of that possibility, but I couldn't ignore them either. My way of coping prior to the surgery was to organize anything and everything, to the nth degree.

After my surgery, I woke up in the surreal world of that unique anesthetic haze, and was instantly anchored by the strong warm reassuring feeling of my surgeon tightly gripping my hand, gently but firmly rubbing my arm and repeatedly telling me that no cancer was found. He intuitively provided an invaluable gift by taking the time to be there at such a crucial moment.

Morphine is a wonderful thang, but if I never have to experience it again, I will be more than fine with that. It's hard to be convincingly coherent whilst alternately floating off into loopy land and discovering the reality that pain has thresholds you couldn't possibly have imagined existing. Thankfully, I was lucid enough to comprehend that although the surgery was extensive in some unexpected ways, in the most important way that we were all expecting, it was not. "No" became my new favorite word.

NO = NO cancer present, even when all the final pathology reports returned two days later.

NO = chemo is not necessary.

NO = you don't have to remain in the hospital as long as predicted.

"Yes" soon became the very bestest of words ever spoken.

Yes - If you listen and heed the advice of your surgeon, you can expect a full recovery.

Yes - we are very serious about resting and letting your body heal for the *entire* 6 weeks post-op. (How my Dr. managed not to roll his eyes and laugh when I asked him (pre-op) if I could do this, that and the other thing if I felt up to it at 4 weeks post-op, I'll never know. Geez, I felt like such an idjit later on. )

Yes - you will able to hike when the trees are blazing into the colors you love as autumn sends its welcome chilly temps.

Yes - you can once again embrace the "pure joy of arbitrary passions". I came across that phrase this week and it captured my complete attention. They can range from the small, simple, joyful awareness of how rain drops sound falling late at night in the corn field (it's a whisper-y soft sound I'd never heard before) to the encompassing excitement and trepidation of beginning a new job and feeling so passionate about it that you feel like you're going to burst!

My list of things yet to experience in life was long & varied before May.

It's now considerably longer.

Enthusiastically so.

[I decided that if I had a sig file atm, it would be something else I recently read.
Live boldly, take risks...make somebody say, "What the hell was THAT all about?!?"]

;-)

Decadent Debauchery 101

2006-02-22T14:23:00.000-05:00

It was awful.....

I actually felt dizzy. My stomach hurt. That swishy nauseous sensation when you feel like if you move the wrong way, you will regret it. I sat there wallowing in my misery, knowing I deserved every ripple of discomfort. Nonetheless, I embraced my self-pity with open arms and smiled with a quiet sense of utter satiation.

I had gone into it, fully cognizant of the consequences. Well, no, not exactly. Since it had never happened that way before, I didn't anticipate any repercussions. I had no idea that one night of such decadent debauchery could affect my body to such a degree.

I pondered my feelings.

Did I feel shame over my loss of common sense?

Ummmm....nope.

Remorse over allowing my body to experience such carefree abandon?

Nope, not a speck.

Sorrow over my blatant willfulness?

Nope, nary a smidgen.

Regret that walking was not an option for a brief period of time last night?

Again, nope.

Determination to enjoy such a delightful experience again some day soon?

Oh, yeah. You betcha!

I made my plans for the evening, knowing I wouldn't be able to resist such tantalizing temptation.

Who could? Why would I even want to?!?!?

You try inviting several friends over to your house and tell them that all they have to bring is themselves and something chocolate. You gaze at the luscious bounty of chocolate concoctions waiting for you on your kitchen counter and see how much restraint and common sense you actually _do_ possess.

Could you glide past the Chocolate Fudge Torte? Triple layers of soft moist chocolate cake, with chocolate fudge icing slathered upon each layer. Every tantalizing bite covered in chocolate whipped cream. With teasing bits of chocolate curls nestled in the whipped cream.

May I have one slice please?

Cozying up to the torte was the Rocky Road pie. A crisp crunchy chocolate crust, followed by a cold creamy layer of rich chocolate pudding. A mile high topping of smooth white whipped cream. Huge pieces of pecans hidden amongst the final layer of mini marshmallows. Little curls of chocolate sitting on the marshmallows, begging to be eaten.

Please, oh please, one slice, please.

Sitting in their own special pristine container was my downfall......Belgian Mini Eclairs. Made from a delicate, European style of pastry and filled with rich Bavarian custard cream. Ahhhhhhhhh! Two intensely delicious bites made the first one disappear, leaving me with no other alternative but to reach for another......and another......and oh my yesssssssssssssss....another. I lost count. My taste buds didn't want my tummy to know how many I was devouring, because it would have told me to slow down and the buds were having none of that.

Ummm.....four since they are so small. No wait! Five. Ok, make it six please.

The freshly baked brownies were so fresh and hot from the oven, oven mitts had to be worn as they were proudly carried into my home. How could I resist such home baked flavor?

One lovely warm gooey moist brownie.

A whole huge bag of peanut M & M's was sitting there, waiting for me. Cheerful chocolate crunchiness, so easy to munch on.

One of each color just isn't enough. Two of each color looks very colorful on one's plate, thankyouverymuch.

More brownies! From a local bakery. Where they load them up with wonderful wedges of walnuts, smother them in chocolate fudge icing and then happily sprinkle them with itty bitty mini M & M's. They are just so darn cute you have to have at least one.

And it looked so good with the peanut M & M's surrounding it. Decorative eatable color coordinated elegance.

Pecan Delights. Need I say more? Well, if you insist. Rich milk chocolate covering chunks of pecans, gooily stuck together by creamy golden caramel.

One please. I don't want to seem greedy.

Last but not least, the can of Reddi-Wip. CHOCOLATE whipped cream in a can!!!! Easy to squirt on anything and everything. Open your mouth and push the nozzle for instant gratification. Or add it to your Chocolate Mocha coffee. Or to your Torte, or pie, or brownies, or..........whatever you wish!

Finally, after indulging myself for hours, I had to stop. Chocolate was actually anathema to me. I was amazed when that treacherous thought came to mind. Never would I have envisioned such a possibility. As I worked through my self-induced misery, I wondered how long it would be before I once again wished to feel the sweet, melting sensation of chocolate in my mouth. Had I done irreparable damage to my ability to consume chocolate?

Alas, only time would tell......

I woke up the next morning and smiled as I spied the luscious leftovers in my fridge.

;-)

Windy Haven...

2006-01-25T17:07:00.000-05:00

I thought that since it was 56 when I left home that it would be reasonably chilly, but not cold, up on the mountain. I watched the thermometer drop as I drove to the top, where it finally settled at 46. Which would have been reasonable, still, if not for the strong wind gusting. I couldn't have hiked along the cliffs today if the wind had been coming from the east. It would have been too risky. The wind was a tad capricious and although my family doesn't agree, I do use common sense when hiking. I try to explain that if you are uncomfortable with heights, then yes, walking on along the cliffs will seem foolhardy. But, I always make sure of my footing and I take great care. My stomach no longer gets that tickly feeling when I gaze down and I climb in places that caused me to hesitate months ago. Where I once felt awkward and incapable, I now feel calm and assured. I'm home, where I've always wanted to be.

After hiking for awhile, I found a niche to settle in and watch the sun. It was so blessedly wonderfully peaceful. The cliff angled just enough to block the full effect of the wind, and I had enough layers on to stay warm while I waited.

It's a balm to my soul to sit there and gaze out into forever. I kinda sorta almost felt like that when looking out over the ocean on the beach in FL. This feeling is so much greater though. Somehow looking out over the ocean felt lonely and abstract. Sitting on a cliff engages more of my senses in ways that are hard to capture with words. The solid irrefutable mammoth presence of the mountain is both soothing and awe-inspiring. The cliche of the earth seeming like a giant patchwork quilt came to mind and made me smile. Greens, browns and the red clay all add their colors in grand abundance. Wisps of smoke trail out over the treetops. The ties to other people living their lives below me is reassuringly apparent and yet I am above the chaos of life for those moments in time. It amazes me that I, the one in perpetual motion, often times fussed at for not sitting still, can serenely sit for an hour and just savor my time alone watching time pass so slowly and yet with such a sentient appreciation for the nuances embracing me there.

Some day I want to take up nap on that cliff. I could have easily done so today, if it had been a bit earlier.

My only complaint is that my Vue doesn't have sit warmers. I would have dearly loved to have some today.

...S~

Fire

2006-01-25T00:44:00.000-05:00

The fire was quenched to an ember
And for years we let it be
Then a certain word, an evocative phrase
Blew the ashes into flames

We dance in the luminosity
Savoring each hot caress
Of words, voice and deed
Immersing soul and body
To the ever growing need

Eskimo Kisses

2006-01-24T23:42:00.000-05:00

Slow easy nuzzles
Little licks and sighs
Nibbles around your lips
Till my tongue slips inside

It would so easy to seduce me at the moment...

2006-01-21T15:38:00.000-05:00

I just got the monthly reminder from my online calendar about certain household chores that need to be done now.

Some woman are seduced by candy, flowers, back rubs, jewelry, eating out or other similar luxuries. As I sat there reading the dreaded list of chores awaiting me, a different kind of very tantalizing seduction came to my mind.

A perceptive man would understand that I would make him his most favorite dessert in the whole entire world if he would add the Rid-X to the septic system for me. [Without being told.] I always feel so icky after touching the box and pouring the stuff in, even when I wear gloves and hold my breath. I hate doing this chore!

A wise man would check the air purifier filters around the house and then justifiably expect a full body rub for being so caring and attentive to the health of his family. [Without being told and without making a huge stinkin' deal about needing directions.] It's not rocket science.

A discerning man would climb down into the crawl space each month to check and/or exchange the air handler filter on the furnace and also check/replace the other filter in the garage. [Without being told and without asking where the extra filters are kept. And most especially without kneeling on the a/c drain pipe and cracking it so I never ask him to do it again.]

I think this last one is what would be the most seductive to me. I would be happy to climb into bed and lick a discerning man from head to toe if he were to do such a thang for me.

...S~

Renga anyone?

2006-01-15T10:17:00.000-05:00

Flannel sheets caress
Soft and warm, against my skin
Smooth scented fabric
Snuggle in, burrow down deep
Cold winters night, dream filled sleep

North Carolina Cinquain

2005-12-28T12:09:00.000-05:00

Sunshine
But yet cold temps
Me anticipating
Snowflakes soon, tongue catching magic
I smile

If....

2005-06-15T10:30:00.000-05:00

If you have your deodorant, face lotion and toothpaste placed in your drawer in the bathroom in a specific order so that you don't have to look, but just reach in to use them by rote and someone messes with that order when they are snitching a Q-tip.... and if the bottles are all the same size and the face lotion and tooth paste have the same kinda lid....and the toothpaste is the liquidy kind...and if you are really sleepy in the mornings because your body is adjusting to a new schedule....and if after your shower you reach into the drawer, and squirt white stuff on your hand and then pat it all over your face.

Well.

You might possibly wonder why the white stuff is so pasty and why you are now enveloped in the scent of peppermint.

At that point you might open your eyes and look at your face in the mirror and confirm, that yes, you did indeed just rub toothpaste all over your face.

And then you might start giggling and noticing that mint toothpaste makes a very refreshing wake-me-up face wash and that your face is all cool and tingly now.

Oy.

;)

...S~

Walking in Clouds....

2005-06-15T09:57:00.000-05:00

I almost didn't go because it looked like rain. I finally shrugged and considered that I knew places along the trail that would keep me dry if the little rain cloud I saw on Weatherbug actually found me.

It was eerie to drive to the very base of the mountain and not see it. The cloud cover was that low and dense. Usually, you can see Pilot Mountain for miles and miles...even from Winston-Salem and vice versa. Today, if I hadn't known it was there, I would have seriously wondered about the park sign directing me to the Pilot Mountain exit. Even as I drove onto the exit it wasn't visible. It was so surreal. Finally, as I started up the long winding road to the pinnacle, I could see tips of trees through some of the clouds.

When I reached the pinnacle it was as if I were in a land of clouds. Grey mist surrounded me in every direction. There was no way to tell where the parking lot began and ended until I approached each end.

I took the trail around the base of the big pinnacle and it was so incredibly beautiful. Mist floated among the trees and lightly coated my hair and arms. There was a totally different feel to the mountain today.

Last time I was there, the sky was such a deep vibrant blue and the sun was shining so brightly, giving everything a sharp clear edge. Today, all the edges of the quartzite boulders and cliffs had a soft patina of mist, mysterious and magical. I was the only person there and if felt as if the mountain was softly cosseting me within the clouds, causing me to focus on the trail directly surrounding me, instead of the distant view. Green....so many hues of green within the mist! Tree leaves, lichen and moss were all the more noticeable, especially on the cliff edges.

Once I meandered around the pinnacle I set off for the cliff trails. It felt good to know how to find my favorite cliff, all by myself. And it was fascinatingly different to sit on the edge, with a cool breeze blowing into my face and see nothing in front of me but a soft cloud of impenetrable grey. So instead of gazing outward, I savored the view as I looked downward....words can't capture it, so the pictures will have to suffice.

http://tinyurl.com/j8r2a

Click on Full Screen for the clearest picture.

...S~

Peace, pees, pais, paiz, pes

2005-03-18T21:01:00.000-05:00

I rarely offer my opinion on the newest war (unless asked), because to do so is moot at this point, and 'tis guaranteed it will either offend or hurt someone else, because we all differ within our various viewpoints. Which is to be expected I think, because life is nothing if not interesting and the people are the best part of it all. My choices as an average citizen are what they've always been....to contact my governmental representatives, including even the office of the President and to join organizations that support my opinions. If I don't utilize at least those freedoms then all I am doing is spouting off and really not effectively trying to change things. If I'm not willing to direct my efforts either in support or opposition, to where my actions can have a realistic impact, than hot air is all I'm producing and no one needs that blowing in their face. If I've chosen to do these things, then I have to decide whether or not my friends, neighbors and relatives wish or need to hear my viewpoints. Especially in places or situations that do not lend themselves to debates or pontificating.

It's been intriguing to listen to my teenage kids compose their own thoughts about this whole situation. This is their first awareness of our country being involved in a war. Some days they make blanket statements without considering their words. Other days I can tell that they've been researching the topic and contemplating their words before they speak. I think that's the best thing I love the most about watching them mature into adults; their thoughts and how they share them now. I have to stop and consider my words before I voice them and they are learning to do the same. We have learned to remember that many people we come in contact with have relatives in the military, that they take great pride in them, as we most certainly do, and so their hearts are going to be understandably sensitive. We have learned to keep in mind that some people we meet live in countries other than the US. Therefore, their perceptions are going to differ from ours.

We are learning to accept that peace is like a multifaceted prism and it shines differently in an array of colors for every single person.

We have decided that we have to think, _really_ stop and think; because we are accountable for our words and for trying to peacefully integrate ourselves within our community and our families....

We need bridges and mending, not chasm creating and bridge destroying, hidden under a rainbow, ironically named Peace.

From Webster's Revised Unabridged Dictionary (1913)

Peace \Peace\, n. [OE. pees, pais, OF. pais, paiz, pes, F. paix, L. pax, pacis, akin to pacere, paciscere, pacisci, to make an agreement, and prob. also pangere to fasten. Cf. {Appease}, {Fair}, a., {Fay}, v., {Fang}, {Pacify}, {Pact}, {Pay} to requite.] A state of quiet or tranquillity; freedom from disturbance or agitation; calm; repose; specifically: (a) Exemption from, or cessation of, war with public enemies. (b) Public quiet, order, and contentment in obedience to law. (c) Exemption from, or subjection of, agitating passions; tranquillity of mind or conscience. (d) Reconciliation; agreement after variance; harmony; concord. ``The eternal love and pees.'' --Chaucer.