Witness To Spring and The End of Smokes

I've been waiting for Spring for such a long time.  But with every Random Tuesday Thoughts rolling by so quickly,  I feel like time is running out.

I need to make every effort to watch the season carefully.  I need to be outdoors, to notice the ever changing landscape which seems to change hourly.  The baby greens burst out quickly this year.  The contrast from just a few weeks ago is striking.  It went from bare to lush.  The flowering trees are blooming and the spring flowers have made their appearance.  I drive past the park everyday and everyday brings something new. This week a blanket of yellow dandelions dots the landscape.

I sometimes look out the window from my desk and feel like I'm missing it.  It's as though I'm allowing another opportunity to slip by and unfortunately, that means another year before spring is here again. Even though I am fully aware of the spring, it's seem like I am admiring it from afar.   I've got to go out there and feel it, to be a witness to it.  

Because before you know it, six Tuesdays will go by and it will be gone. 

Computer or outside.  

Technology or Nature.

Small screen or panoramic view.        

Scattering distracting minutia or tranquil reflective centering.

Choices, choices.  

I wish I had a laptop, then I can take my technology with me and sit under a quiet shady tree feeling the spring breezes.  That would be so pleasant.  But that would be making spring background scenery, just a backdrop to my day.  It's not really an interaction.  And I'm looking for interaction.  

I feel it. A NATURE SAFARI is about to commence. 

I would highly recommend you take one in the near future. Go on an adventure. Take another human with you, one that would appreciate it.  Take binoculars, a camera, a sketch pad. Take a walk in nearby woods or county park. Put on your boots, cross a stream, turn over rocks, look for new growth, get down and dirty. 

Speaking about interacting with nature, Smokey, the most zen dog in the universe, will be leaving our care and going back home.  Seven weeks are up and my parents will be home on Friday.  QueenMaker finds the dog comical and has laughed non-stop for seven weeks.  I can't tell if he's laughing at the dog or just laughing because the dog makes him happy. 

For sure, one day, when we are old, and starved for affection, or craving for someone or something to accept our love one last time, we will get a dog.  Just like Smokey.  

So I looked him up. He is a tibetan terrier, which is not a terrier at all.  His doggie ancestors were raised by tibetan monks 2000 years ago. No wonder he's so zen. They were temple dogs and considered good luck charms. The monks would never sell the dogs but would often give them as gifts.  

It makes me happy.  You know the seven degrees of separation?   Smokey somehow connects me to the high altitudes of the Tibetan Himalayas, to the yellow and red robes of the monks, and to 2000 year old Buddhist temples.   Thanks, dog.

Now when I go visit my parents, will I go to see them or to visit Smokey, the Zen Dog.   

"Oh, I'm not here to see you, Mom. Just the dog."  

Oh she would love that.   First she would give me that look to see if I was serious.   Then she would pretend to be hurt.  I can hear her now.  Then every time I came over after that she would direct me to the dog, because of course, her daughter is not here to see her. I don't care about her, just the dog.  She would announce to the dog, "your mother's here."  Hey!    Oh, it would go on for weeks and weeks. 

Although I will miss the dog for about a minute, rest assured, my heart will not suffer any "Smoke Damage" when he leaves. 

(Yes, I said it.  Been trying to work that in for weeks.)

So if I haven't damaged you with my rather lengthy random post, work your way over to Keely at UnMom for more Random Tuesday Thoughts.

   

The Quotable Impulse

Damn it.  If it wasn't for UnMom with her RTT's (could be contagious) and Jen at Sprite's Keeper, keeping us going with the whirly, swirly Spin Cycle, where would I be?

Today's Spin Cycle is about words that move you, quotes that soothe you, and phrases that make you smile.

Words, quotable words, I love them.  Some of the best come from Twain and Franklin.  But great lines come from every genre.  And I'm picking a few that have stuck to me the moment I heard them. They are with me forever.

When the right moment presents itself, these quotes bubble up. I've said them aloud many times and sometimes get the confused doggy head tilt from many a folk. But every once in a while, someone gets the reference and a small laugh is heard in the back of the room.  And I know I have found a kindred spirit.

Ah, the coveted mind meld.   Priceless.



"Pretty. Handsome. Pretty, Handsome. Dr. Smith."

"Those beautiful beautiful sound of nickels, nickels, nickels."

"And your little dog too!"

"Oh what a world. What a world!"

"What a maroon!"

"Cats and Dogs! Living together!"

"That chick is toast!"

"Seven-Eleven, Ha!"  "Number please."  "Seven-Eleven, Ha!"

"Damn it Jim! I'm a doctor not a ..."

"I'm sooo tired...of playing the game."

"It says here.   ... A person can develop a cold."

"Fasten your seat-belts.  It's gonna be a bumpy night."

"In order to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first create the universe."

"When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."

"Come at me with that banana!"


One of many great Mark Twain quotes, "Whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority. It is time to pause and reflect."

My hero, Benjamin Franklin's quote, "If you know how to spend less than you get, you have the Philosopher's stone."

My fifteen year old son complaining, "Why can't they let a song die with dignity?"

My niece when she was three years old, walked around my mother's house picking up various trinkets, figurines, whatever was in her reach and placing the treasures in a plastic grocery bag she carried on her shoulder.  I asked her what she was doing and told her she needed to put everything back.  She put up her hands, shrugged her shoulders, and said, "Sorry, nothing I can do.  It's in the bag."


It's in the bag folks, so head over to Jen's Spin Cycle for more of the quotable. I'll bring the potables.

RTT: The Pendulum Won't Stop Swinging

Tuesdays mean Random Tuesday Thoughts.  So head over to Keely's for more of the same.


Okie Dokie, here's the deal.   I'm feeling rather yin and yang this week. The pendulum won't stop swinging.

My kid is all grown up and doesn't need me anymore.  Ha!   It's liberating and very, very disturbing at the same time.    Bitter Sweet.

Our business is picking up lately but still on life support. The cart keeps coming around, but the business keeps picking up its head and proclaiming, "I'm not dead yet."    Optimistic Realist.

My mom and dad are away for two months.  I miss them but at the same time I'm feeling "guilty happy" because I've got more free time on my hands.   Guilty Comfort.

My house needs a good cleaning, but I don't feel like doing it.  But that little pan in the sink needs a good scouring.  I think I'll spend 20 minutes brillo-ing all the dark spots off until it shines.   Lazy Ambition.

I was all ready to participate in Earth Hour. The staunch conservationist and avid recycler in me was ready to turn off the lights. Then I got all militant on my ass and thought to hell with it.  I'm not a joiner.  I don't do causes.  I stood there arguing with myself.  What's up with that?  Oh yeah.  Menopause.   Crystallized Moments of Confusion.

The gray at my temples is becoming too prominent. My sisters keep telling me to color my hair.  But I don't want to bend to peer pressure or vanity.  But I guess I'll do it anyways, because I do want to look a few years younger.  Better to Look Good than to Feel Good.

It's been a weird week.

Will the Real Me, Please Stand Up, Please Stand Up

It's supposed to be about ME.  Jen at Sprite"s Keeper assignment was to write something about myself.

Well after years of living with me, I've finally realized a few things.  I can tell you who I was.  I guess I'm pretty much the same person, expect a little wiser, a little more retrospect, a lot less angst.

ME, ME, Me, Me, Me, me, me.  


See that little me there at the end of the line.  That's the me I like to be.  Hopefully no one will notice me.  At least not too much.  It rare to be the middle me, but that is who I play most of the day. The big me, no way, no how. Okay, maybe when I'm really mad, then big Scary ME comes out.  But is there a big vivacious ME? No.  I like the middle, balance you know.

I'm a lazy woman but only when it comes to housework.  Give me a project, work assignment, a job doing for others, cleaning someone else's home and I'm a dynamo. I'm an overachiever. I'll go beyond  the call of duty. I'll think of every contingency, complete the task in lightening speed, stay until its done or obliterate every speck of dust.

Apparently I am in need of a lot of approval.  I guess I do need to be noticed, and I get it through the work I do.  It seems I need people to say good job, great presentation, the house never looked better. See that, I redirected your gaze at my work, not at me.  Good job.

Here is one example of things I won't do for myself but will for someone else.

Like most women my age, I should lose weight.  I should get more exercise.  I want to be a healthier, a stealthier me. But will I do that for myself?  No, it's not convenient right now.  I don't feel it right now. I don't have the motivation the drive. All the excuses or permissions I give myself not to work out.

Well now I am dog-sitting Smokey.  And guess what?  Smokey usually lives with my 80 year old parents, so I know he doesn't get the exercise he needs to burn off  extra energy or to keep healthy.  So in my quest to do a great job, to do for someone or something else, to prove that I am the best dog-sitter in the world, Smokey walks every day for a mile and a half and we walk fast.

Every. Single. Effin. Day.  And we both reap the benefits.

So me apparently needs to be needed to be the best me I can.

Now give yourself a hug and go to Sprite's Keeper to read more wonderful ME stories

Happy Birthday Sis

Sister After Me is having a birthday today.  She is now officially 50 years old.

And a mother of a five-year-old.

She is also the mother of a 31 year-old daughter and a 29 year-old son.

And a grandmother of four, ages 14, 4, 2, and six months.

My memories of her go all the way back to the crib we shared, when exchanging or stealing her bottle was a favorite past time of mine.   When she was little, whenever she got mad, her hands became tightly clenched fists, her arms stiff by her sides. She loved mischief.  She loved fun.  She was always up for the challenge.

Boys adored her from the moment they saw her, five "boyfriends" in kindergarten was just the start.

Since she was a small child, she was always saving animals in distress. That crazy woman chasing a dog around on the freeway trying to grab it before it got hit by a car, that was probably her.

Although I was older, by one year, she was always the one I looked to for comfort, for confidence, for allegiance, and more often than not getting it.  I sometimes wished that she needed me as much as I needed her.

She is a person that believes that you get out of life what you put into it.  Karma is big on her list.  She is very health conscious, always reading and learning how to be healthier in body, mind, and the spirit.  She wants everyone around her to feel fulfilled, to feel balanced, to take things in stride, to be happy. And if you can't be happy, to find solace.  She makes the effort to plant that seed.

At her younger daughter's preschool graduation, she turned to me and said, "I am so thankful because I am here.  I get to do a re-do.  I wasn't able to appreciate as fully as I do now my role as a mom.  Being a single mom, I always felt sorry that I wasn't there as often for my older two.  I was too young.  My work took me away. But this time I get a re-do.  I can give my youngest the home, the attention, a family that has a mom and dad, some stability in her life. I get another chance, a re-do.  I'm very blessed."

Her life has been filled with many highs and lows. And I'm not sure she will ever know the stability that she strives for in her life.  I know she is a "master juggler." No matter how often life gives her another ball to juggle, she will be able to do it.

As a 50th birthday present, she is giving herself this year. This year is for her, for her health, for her happiness, for her indomitable spirit.  My wish is to  help her celebrate this Year of Me.

Happy Birthday, Evie.   I love you.

Seven Weeks of Smokey

Seven more weeks. Smokey is staying with us while Mom and Dad are sunning themselves in the Caribbean, really going back to their childhood homes.  This is Smokey, the most chill dog ever.  I don't believe in endowing animal with human traits, but he is...

the most patient, loving, comically endearing dog, such a character.  Perfect for my parents who are in their 80's.

QueenMaker and I had dogs when we were children, but we never owned one during our married life.  The whole family decided that we were just too busy to give a dog the quality of life it deserved.  So its been 40 years since a dog has graced our lives.

I would never volunteer to take care of a dog, but for some reason, Smoky loves me.  He adores me.  Maybe it's because every time I visit, Smokey gets a complete doggy massage.  I look at that fur and I immediately feel the itch.  So I figure he must too.  That is why he loves me.  I'm way too empathetic.

So I mentioned that I may, possibly, give some thought, ask hubby first, not sure, but thinking about it, on the fence about taking him. That means its a done deal to my Mom.

Every maybe hints at possibility.  Possibility means a potential positive outcome.  So every maybe means a positive and even enthusiastic Yes! to my mom.  She will always say, "But you said..."  I didn't want to disappoint her.

So we have Smokey for seven weeks.  You never know what to expect from a dog that doesn't belong to you.  But he is true to character.  With a big sigh of relief for me and especially to hubby, the dog shows great self control.  It's as though he has always been here.

Today, I swear he did a seven take.  We confused him, momentarily.  First I saw the double take, then the quad, then a seven take!  It was simply awesome.

So I'm beginning to feel like a "mommy blogger,"  okay more like a beloved auntie with a nephew visiting for a month or so. He's becoming our little bundle of joy, waiting for us, greeting us with so much love and enthusiasm, reveling in our affection, wanting to play.

And he can stand on his hind legs forever too.



 

Aging - One Lemon, One Lemonade

One Lemonade:

I've worn glasses since the first grade. I'm very nearsighted and my eyesight has progressively gotten worse over the years. My range of vision has gotten shorter and shorter that I feel more comfortable taking off my glasses and bringing whatever I'm working on right up to my nose.

But aging also means that now I need bifocals. Stupid aging. I hate you. I can't bring things right up to my nose anymore. I loathe the whole bifocal experience. But when I remove my glasses, my range of clear vision is now at a range of only 5 inches to 10 inches from my face.

QueenMaker is farsighted and also needs reading glasses. But because of that stupid aging thing, his range has diminished quite a bit as well. His range of clear vision is from 24 to 30 inches.

After hugging me the other day, he extended his arms and held me far enough away so he could see me clearly.


Me: You mean you can't see me clearly?

QM: Nope, can't see you at all. I mean I can see you, but not clearly.

Me: You mean that you can't see my face. It's blurry?

QM: Right. You have to be at least two feet away before I can see your face clearly.

Me: You mean no matter how old I look, you can't see the wrinkles or lines on my face?

QM: Right. Not up close at least. And really, not far away either because at 24 o 30 inches your facial features aren't as prominent at that distance. It's like you have a soft filter on your face.

Me: You mean like in the movies? That means you will always see me in your mind's eye as I was, not as I am. I will always be youthful and beautiful, with a soft glow. 

QM: I guess that's true. 

Me: Yahoo! What a perk. That makes me so happy. I could be an old hag, with a giant pimple or wart on my nose and you wouldn't know the difference would you?

QM: No. But I'm sure someone would warn me or something.

Me: Yahoo! Just think of it. You can't see me aging and I can't really see you aging either. That takes a load of my mind. I will from this time forward be timeless.


I danced merrily out of the room to look for a mirror.



One Lemon - When lemonade gets turned back into sour lemons, the flip-side.

My 49 year old sister who SHOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER, decided to go sledding with her 11 year old daughter. Everything went well the first five runs down the hill until on the sixth, when her sled hit a giant bump. She landed on her tailbone and compressed three of her disks. She is in agony.

Apparently it is a common injury that could have been very serious, in some cases causing paralysis. After some research on the internet, she said, "I should have checked the internet first before I went sledding."

Shouldn't we all check with the internet before we do anything?

Seriously. As a middle aged woman, shouldn't she know that speeding uncontrollably down a hill is never a good idea? Doesn't she remember that summer when her rollerblades caught the edge of a driveway and sent her hurdling forward, cracking both elbows? She had to wear casts that rendered her helpless. She walked around with her arms in a perpetual, "This is a hold up! Hands in the air!" kind of position. She couldn't feed, dress, or wipe herself for weeks.


Remember people. The body hates impact. It will make you pay.



So if you’re into high impact or prefer softer speed bumps, sled on over to Keely’s, oh sorry, I mean Bitchin' Wives Club, for some high speed and invigorating Random Tuesday Thoughts, but put your glasses on first.