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red sun in morning …

Last week I woke at oh dark thirty to drive to the middle of the State and pick up my son in a parking lot. Thankfully there was no brown paper bag or unmarked bills involved. But that meant that I was up before the sun, drank my coffee and wrote in my journal and I had to roll the trash bin to the curb. I was at the side of the road when I noticed how beautiful the sun was … of course, I only had my phone with me and my mind was only partially awake so this picture doesn’t show the beauty that made me take the picture.red sun in morning

Isn’t that always the case? We see something so heart breakingly beautiful and we try to capture the moment and the moment splashes through our fingertips like a wave.

There are some moments that are so special that capturing them would be like harnessing a hummingbird or nailing a butterfly to the board. It looses its luster when people-handled like that.

Fleeting moments are best kept in our hearts, for when they are analyzed we can then point out the problems.

Fleeting moments are best kept in the heart, for though I know the heart is a mere pump for blood … the idea is that it holds emotion as opposed to the logical brain. The brain looks at a sunrise and talks about air quality and the historical colors over certain cities. The heart looks and says — it was definitely worth waking up for!

The other day I visited my sister-in-law and her gardens was literally humming with activity. Her lambs ears were crawling with bees, the butterflies were swarming the milkweed and the hummingbirds buzzed us while we spoke. I was infatuated.

How could I get this energy?

Well time and money can do a lot, however I lack both more often than not … so I sank into my own pit of despair.

Then as I was passing by a greenhouse I have been driving by for the past three years every time it is my turn to drive the carpool to the bus stop. I stopped.butterfly bushes

They had all kinds of beautiful perennials and flowers.

They had beautiful butterfly bushes. Then the pessimist inside my head said — you have never had good luck with butterfly bushes. Well maybe that was the horrible soil in Stonington. Really? Was Stonington soil any worse than Goshen? It is all in your head!

Well since the whole conversation was in my head, I continued walking around and looking at fuschias (my personal favorite) and lambs ears that made my sister-in-laws bees so very happy and I made a decision … especially since everything was on SALE.

So I went home with 4 plants, half & half, lemons and limes for around $40 and deemed myself lucky.

I have a pathetic rose and a lonely blueberry bush and I decided to make a garden about them. I started to dig a bed. I dug. I dug. I hit a really big stone. Wait, I thought I left Stonington.

I stopped for the day for I had to go pick up my daughter. I drove by the greenhouse again and I looked at ALL the pretty flowers… they were on SALE.

My daughter and I ate dinner and watched “I Love Lucy”. We slept. The cats woke me up at 6Am. I made coffee. I sat on my porch and saw the spade and wheel barrow. I waited for my daughter to wake up to the day.

We Snap Chatted until she finally came down the stairs. We dug some more and called in re-enforcements to deal with the stone that ate Manhattan. The classic B-Movie. Re-enforcements and I decided to let sleeping stones lie and plant the plants around the stone. We ate lunch.

I used to knit — I was never fast at it or did anything that wasn’t a square or rectangle. But then I took a class and was told that I knit backwards and since I couldn’t change the way I knit … I basically stopped.

fuschia

I used to write poems and I loved that. I wrote some that people enjoyed but I never thought I would become the Poet Laureate of the United States or anything. Then during my courtship with my husband — he wrote me a poem a day for a year. Some were beautiful sonnets and some were silly limericks … somehow after that, I really never wrote a poem again … for my poetry could not compare.

I am not as thin as one sister. I am not as skilled as the other sister. I can’t draw like my brother-in-law. I can’t sing like my sister-in-law. I can’t garden like my friend.

We didn’t get into the right school, like this person.

We didn’t get the right job, like that person.

In all this comparison, we forget who we are and what we want.

What do I want?

What makes me happy?

How can my creative voice manifest in this world? Not caring about societal pressures?

This may not be a “Salada” tagline … but they other day I was so taken by this tagline that I had to take a picture of it …

“Share your strengths, not your weaknesses”Strengths

Okay, this is something I do need to be reminded of … being a single parent and the driving involved, the two jobs I need to try and make ends meet and sometimes they meet better than others, the fatigue and weariness … it is easier to complain than to celebrate what is right.

what are my strengths?

well … I have a good heart – willing to send funny texts and post cute things to friends and family’s Facebook walls … seen any cute unicorn or chicken pictures?  I know where to put them!

I am a font of worthless trivia regarding youth literature and movies of long ago…

I can usually help a patron when they come into a library saying — I saw a book review about … and it had a … on the cover

I am generous with my time and space …

I have a desire to help with the whole Shop Local motif … mind you, that is easy when we have two vineyards and a gourmet chocolate shop in town.  But I have been part of a Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) Farm for as long as my son has been alive … I may have missed a year when I moved …

I write in a way that amuses people at times.

I am good with animals.

So maybe I need to focus on my strengths and try to pull back from seeing what is wrong.  I may not be where I want to be, but I must admit … most of the time I like where I am.

I know that there are many health reasons for having a split keyboard, or at least I can understand the concept of it.  However, the computer where I work one day a week has a brand new one and I think it is very baffling adjusting to it.  Especially, since my children will claim to one and all, I don’t type in an orthodox manner.split keyboard

So I find myself crossing from one part of the keyboard to the other and I am clueless about the number keys since I am so used to using the numbers on the right of the board.  Nope, not anymore.

I am sure that for people with the ability to type, this is a wondrous thing and helps magnificently.  Me, I keep hitting the key next tho the one I intended because my fingers are just a bit off.  Instead of the exclamation point I hit the accent key.  Instead a ‘T’ I hit an ‘R’.  So I have been saying ir a lot lately instead of it…

This will just take time to get used to … and on a Sunday, I suppose I have the time.  But really … what will they think of next?

200,000 miles …

I drive a lot.  I seem to be always driving.  It used to be for dance.  I would take my kids down to Virginia and up to Canada to compete in dance.  Now it is taking kids to school or picking up after sports or taking them to family and volunteer opportunities.  We have listened to a lot of audio books.  We have evolved from “Magic Tree House” (and the tree house started to spin. It spun faster and faster) to Harry Potter (sorry Harry) and now I am listening to Dracula with my son.  200,000

I must say that getting to 200,000 miles seems like a mile stone and yet it is all in the course of being a mother.  Of course I will pick you up from sports, of course you can be a part of the school play and I will drive to Avon 3 or more times a week!  Why wouldn’t I?

Being a part of a child’s life used to mean having cookies waiting for the student after school.  Now it is being part of Grand Parent’s Day and making sure that everything is in place.

Being part of a child’s life used to be making sure they got time in the backyard in the sand box while I hung laundry.  Now it is making sure that the required t-shirt and khaki shorts are clean before his aunt and uncle drive him back towards Mystic so he can volunteer where his father and I met many years ago …

200,000 miles between January 2007 and June 30, 2008.  If this car could talk … it would have some stories to share and some conversations to replicate!

Recently I have been in a mild system overload and tried to clean the house.  There was an electronic recycling day in town and a paper shredding event and I decided that I needed to get things out.  That old dead VCR/DVD player that had stopped working years ago and had taken up permanent residence on a shelf in the basement – out.  Those old bills from eight years ago … did I really need electric bills from Stonington?  I didn’t think so.  Did they need to be shredded?  Probably not — but it was a goal.  Things had to be sorted and out of the house … by this date.  I am a procrastinator.  Goals and deadlines are essential.

Well, as part of this I am cleaning and sorting and everything must be shifted for I have lived in this house since December of 2007! (dang, really that long?)  I decided to move my bedroom and move my office and move … you get the picture.  It is a very good thing my children are as big as they are for I discovered that moving a king size bed is a king size pain in the butt.cats in the window

Anyway … I moved my desk.  This is just a desk … not meant for computers and all that and I have shifted it to what was formally called the cat room … I could now possibly call it my writing room, if I ever went in there to write.  I know how can you write without a computer?  Pen and notebook?  Who uses those old-fashioned things nowadays?  I actually wrote a REAL note on a note card and everything!  (I found them when I cleaned my stuff and moved everything around!)

So, I use this desk to store my journal and keep my note cards.  It is a lovely south-facing window and I may just keep the name of the room, the cat room, for they love the new furniture…

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