Retirees:
Christine volunteered in the school library yesterday. Gosh, she looked good! She retired from the classroom two years ago, and I remember that she looked like me... hair needing a color touch-up, bags under her eyes, comfortable clothes, sensible shoes... your basic tired, frumpy, stressed teacher look.
Yesterday her face looked lovely, her hair was great, she looked serene... she looked as good as every other retired teacher friend I have. I used to tell people I needed to retire so I could weigh 10 pounds less and look five years younger, and after seeing her, I began to think it again. I like my job, I like the kids... I love tempera paint and construction paper ... but I want that face. She asked how I was, and I told her pretty good except for this cruddy cold,...she said she hadn't been sick in over a year.
Saving money:
Right after the first of the year, I noticed a 99cent store near me was having a 75% off sale... and who can pass up a bargain like that, right? I bought four pair of reading glasses for 25 cents each. Three of them have already broken. So I think that makes the one pair that is still holding itself together worth a dollar now.
But here is the thing, they are not cute... or fun... or even colorful... I have several readers. I think I might even have a small reader-glasses addiction. I have seen a pair of reader-glasses, 150 magnification that are a carmely brown on top and turquoise blue on the bottom. I love them. They are $17. So far I have looked and loved and passed them by. However, today I think I might really get those perky little glasses.
Being me:
I think that more than anything else I just want to be whomever I am right now... no frills, just me. Sometimes there seems so much pressure to be more. Pressure that comes more from within me than from the outside. I think I get scared that life has passed me by.
Lately I have kind of pushed back from the table, so to speak. I have allowed a kind of distance grow between me and the rest of the world. It is my hope I think, that in this self-imposed cacoon I will somehow be reborn... or maybe freed... to become more like a butterfly and less like a caterpillar.
I haven't flown in a very long time.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Sunday Scribblings: pit bulls and presidents
Three of my neighbors now have pit bulls.
I live in a nice, golf course and bike path kind of neighborhood... a place more suited to golden retrievers and chocolate labs, yappy lap dogs and perky schnauzers on a leash.... a place I never expected to encounter pit bulls... but here they are barking and snarling from behind the block walls as I walk past. I don't like it.
I will admit, I don't read the daily papers, though I check out Newsweek.com nearly every day while I eat lunch and I watch Washington Week religiously. I keep up with national news, but often the local stuff slips by me. So the fact that Arizona is a closed primary slipped past me unnoticed until it was too late to switch my Independent status to Democrat. I can't vote for my chosen candidate on February 5.
But who is my chosen candidate?
I was enthralled with Obama early on in his race. I read The Audacity of Hope. I wanted a return to Camelot, to civility, to cooperation, to letting the other side speak without shouting them down. But I was looking for substance, too. And as time went on I was not hearing a lot of substance, just words about "change". I watched the debate before the New Hampshire primary and noticed that Senator Clinton always referred to Obama as Senator Obama but he always addressed her as Hillary. It bugged me. And I know why he did it, and I know that she even bills herself as Hillary... but still, I would expect him to address me in a more respectful way.... and you know, she made some points... she offered some substance... and I felt my vote shifting.
In the last week there has been a lot of shouting... a lot of name calling. And it seems that the bulk of it is coming from the Clinton side of the camp. It seems like a two-against-one fight, and my sympathies are shifting again. I feel like Obama is like me, surrounded by pit bulls, having to protect himself, having to lash out, when lashing out is not his best feature...
I would prefer to choose a president based on what I do want, rather than trying to avoid what I don't want. How do I do that when all I hear is barking and snarling.
The other day, while heading out for an evening walk, the third, and newest pit bull stood inside a security door and barked wildly at me as I went past. I remember thinking to myself, it was time to move. I don't want to live by mean dogs. I don't really want to live by people who think they need mean dogs. I don't want a president who is Mr. and Mrs. Mud-Slinger. I don't want to be barraged with scare tactics any more. I don't, I don't, I don't.
I can't vote in the primary. Completely my fault for not paying attention. But I will be voting in the regular election, and it is my hope, my audacious hope, that I can vote for a candidate who offers a new direction rather than a play book from a past presidency.
I live in a nice, golf course and bike path kind of neighborhood... a place more suited to golden retrievers and chocolate labs, yappy lap dogs and perky schnauzers on a leash.... a place I never expected to encounter pit bulls... but here they are barking and snarling from behind the block walls as I walk past. I don't like it.
I will admit, I don't read the daily papers, though I check out Newsweek.com nearly every day while I eat lunch and I watch Washington Week religiously. I keep up with national news, but often the local stuff slips by me. So the fact that Arizona is a closed primary slipped past me unnoticed until it was too late to switch my Independent status to Democrat. I can't vote for my chosen candidate on February 5.
But who is my chosen candidate?
I was enthralled with Obama early on in his race. I read The Audacity of Hope. I wanted a return to Camelot, to civility, to cooperation, to letting the other side speak without shouting them down. But I was looking for substance, too. And as time went on I was not hearing a lot of substance, just words about "change". I watched the debate before the New Hampshire primary and noticed that Senator Clinton always referred to Obama as Senator Obama but he always addressed her as Hillary. It bugged me. And I know why he did it, and I know that she even bills herself as Hillary... but still, I would expect him to address me in a more respectful way.... and you know, she made some points... she offered some substance... and I felt my vote shifting.
In the last week there has been a lot of shouting... a lot of name calling. And it seems that the bulk of it is coming from the Clinton side of the camp. It seems like a two-against-one fight, and my sympathies are shifting again. I feel like Obama is like me, surrounded by pit bulls, having to protect himself, having to lash out, when lashing out is not his best feature...
I would prefer to choose a president based on what I do want, rather than trying to avoid what I don't want. How do I do that when all I hear is barking and snarling.
The other day, while heading out for an evening walk, the third, and newest pit bull stood inside a security door and barked wildly at me as I went past. I remember thinking to myself, it was time to move. I don't want to live by mean dogs. I don't really want to live by people who think they need mean dogs. I don't want a president who is Mr. and Mrs. Mud-Slinger. I don't want to be barraged with scare tactics any more. I don't, I don't, I don't.
I can't vote in the primary. Completely my fault for not paying attention. But I will be voting in the regular election, and it is my hope, my audacious hope, that I can vote for a candidate who offers a new direction rather than a play book from a past presidency.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Tech help please!
How do I move this button to my side bar? I have been reading all the tips, I see how to add the picture and but how do I get the HTML under it?
I can manage to do it here, on my post, where there is a paste option on the bar above, but there seems to be no "paste" option within the Add Options drop down... there must be a way to paste the html I copy from another site and get it under the button....
I will keep at trying, but if someone could give me some pointers, they would be much appreciated!
Sunday Scribblings: Fellow Travelor
I met him in a bar. And what started out "just for fun" became serious, and then disastrous, and then ... well, then we became friends, like Harry and Sally.
For a long time I would see him, or hear from him, once or twice a year. We would meet, hike, do a day trip, have dinner together. Then he would disappear again.
It was okay. He was not meant to be a caged bird.
But he hasn't called in a couple of years, and when I realise that, as I did today, I pray for him... I pray that the fates have been kind, and he is doing all right.
Today, to honor him, I tuned to KSLX and listened to old rock. I sang along and remembered the joy I found in lyrics and in miles of dirt roads we traversed. He told me once to not let them pave the roads. He was all for freedom and open spaces.
He changed me. He gave me the mountains and the wind whistling through the pine trees near Christopher Creek. He showed me where the Indians of the past built their homes and how to see pottery pieces scattered on the ground. He gave me a wild love of open spaces, and deep conversations that lasted throughout the night.
I must have given him something, too, since he hung around for so long. Maybe space. Maybe honesty. Maybe just an ear.
We traveled the same road for a while... and then for a time our paths would cross occasionally. Now we are headed in different directions... and that is just how it should be, too.
For a long time I would see him, or hear from him, once or twice a year. We would meet, hike, do a day trip, have dinner together. Then he would disappear again.
It was okay. He was not meant to be a caged bird.
But he hasn't called in a couple of years, and when I realise that, as I did today, I pray for him... I pray that the fates have been kind, and he is doing all right.
Today, to honor him, I tuned to KSLX and listened to old rock. I sang along and remembered the joy I found in lyrics and in miles of dirt roads we traversed. He told me once to not let them pave the roads. He was all for freedom and open spaces.
He changed me. He gave me the mountains and the wind whistling through the pine trees near Christopher Creek. He showed me where the Indians of the past built their homes and how to see pottery pieces scattered on the ground. He gave me a wild love of open spaces, and deep conversations that lasted throughout the night.
I must have given him something, too, since he hung around for so long. Maybe space. Maybe honesty. Maybe just an ear.
We traveled the same road for a while... and then for a time our paths would cross occasionally. Now we are headed in different directions... and that is just how it should be, too.
Friday, January 18, 2008
A cautionary tale, in paradelle form
In December, I ran a stop signal.
In December, I ran a stop signal
Thought it was a right-on-red
Thought it was a right-on-red
Right-on-red, in December, was a stop signal
I ran a thought
Caught with a camera
Caught with a camera
in sunny California the fine is $387.00
in sunny California the fine is $387.00
Caught in California with a sunny camera, the fine is $387.oo
It is a fine, $387.00, caught with camera in sunny December California, the thought was "a right-on-red", I ran in a stop signal
*** this is my first attempt at a paradelle, a poetry form that delights me***
On the ticket, my sister's comment was, "Well, obviously the State of California really needs the money."
P.S. Although I am suffering from sticker shock, I am no longer seeking someone to blame, like I was the day I got the photo surveillance from the county of Riverside.
In December, I ran a stop signal
Thought it was a right-on-red
Thought it was a right-on-red
Right-on-red, in December, was a stop signal
I ran a thought
Caught with a camera
Caught with a camera
in sunny California the fine is $387.00
in sunny California the fine is $387.00
Caught in California with a sunny camera, the fine is $387.oo
It is a fine, $387.00, caught with camera in sunny December California, the thought was "a right-on-red", I ran in a stop signal
*** this is my first attempt at a paradelle, a poetry form that delights me***
On the ticket, my sister's comment was, "Well, obviously the State of California really needs the money."
P.S. Although I am suffering from sticker shock, I am no longer seeking someone to blame, like I was the day I got the photo surveillance from the county of Riverside.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
I never did like roller coasters
In the last week, my emotions have been riding a roller coaster.
My relationship is a goner, my friends don't show up when I need and expect them, I get a ticket for running a red light which will cost me dearly, and I fail to read all the instructions for the Rock and Roll Marathon, where I have registered for the 1/2 marathon run.
Yesterday I realized I had failed to pick up my race number bib at the downtown Expo. I have done runs and rides before and you just picked up your packet at the race. So I set myself on automatic pilot (same thing that got me the red light ticket). Read what I wanted to read in the race info. What it really said is race numbers will not be available the day of the race. That you will not be allowed to get on the shuttle bus without a race number. All the wording was very definite. I wasn't going to be allowed to race.
I was devastated. Near tears I called and told my marathon buddy I might not be with her on the day of the race. I felt like an idiot. I felt this self-loathing which helps no one... but I felt it anyway. I told my friend I was going to show up at the race anyway and just see... I had my registration confirmation. It had my race number on it.
I didn't sleep last night. Self-recrimination, deciding to just go see what happens, deciding to just sleep in and avoid the embarrassment of being turned away. Anyway, when my alarm rang and I sat up with probably less than three hours of sleep under my belt, I decided to just go down there and tell the truth. I had dropped the ball. And if they said, too bad, so sad, I would just go back home and to bed. I told myself either outcome would be okay.
On the drive down my stomach felt like it was going to lurch right out the door. When I got out of the car and headed for the line getting on the shuttle bus I felt this feeling of dread. Once I got to the bus, I spotted a person with an official looking t-shirt on and briefly explained my dilemma, she called another woman in for advice and when this woman saw that I had my confirmation and did not care if I had a timed race, she said, "Just go run." And I climbed on the bus. My stomach immediately settled down.
When the bus dropped us at the start I wandered around grabbing a bottle of water, a half a bagel, trying to figure out where the corral 27 would be. Then I noticed a booth labeled "Information". I stopped and explained that I did not have a race number bib, but I did have my confirmation and a photo ID with me. She told me to go to the next booth labeled "Solutions". At Solutions they checked my paper and identification and gave me my race bib, sent me to the next line where I got my chip which would document my time. My stomach and the little tightness between my shoulders eased back a bit more.
About a half hour later I found Celeste and we started the half marathon together, walking the whole way. My time for the race was 3:18:25, I averaged a 15.9 minute mile. I have a purple toe... really a bit frightening looking and sore hips and legs... but I did it. It was great. I felt great. I might even want to do it again after my toe looks normal again.
All that upset for nothing... when I know that nearly all upset is for nothing.
In fact, I feel like this race is a new beginning for me. Celeste and I talked about this as we walked... she too, had been in a slump. She told me she was going to begin to train for a small triathlon, I told her I was going to begin to work out with a trainer. We both at least have a next small step plan.
Roller coaster, I am getting off for a while.
My relationship is a goner, my friends don't show up when I need and expect them, I get a ticket for running a red light which will cost me dearly, and I fail to read all the instructions for the Rock and Roll Marathon, where I have registered for the 1/2 marathon run.
Yesterday I realized I had failed to pick up my race number bib at the downtown Expo. I have done runs and rides before and you just picked up your packet at the race. So I set myself on automatic pilot (same thing that got me the red light ticket). Read what I wanted to read in the race info. What it really said is race numbers will not be available the day of the race. That you will not be allowed to get on the shuttle bus without a race number. All the wording was very definite. I wasn't going to be allowed to race.
I was devastated. Near tears I called and told my marathon buddy I might not be with her on the day of the race. I felt like an idiot. I felt this self-loathing which helps no one... but I felt it anyway. I told my friend I was going to show up at the race anyway and just see... I had my registration confirmation. It had my race number on it.
I didn't sleep last night. Self-recrimination, deciding to just go see what happens, deciding to just sleep in and avoid the embarrassment of being turned away. Anyway, when my alarm rang and I sat up with probably less than three hours of sleep under my belt, I decided to just go down there and tell the truth. I had dropped the ball. And if they said, too bad, so sad, I would just go back home and to bed. I told myself either outcome would be okay.
On the drive down my stomach felt like it was going to lurch right out the door. When I got out of the car and headed for the line getting on the shuttle bus I felt this feeling of dread. Once I got to the bus, I spotted a person with an official looking t-shirt on and briefly explained my dilemma, she called another woman in for advice and when this woman saw that I had my confirmation and did not care if I had a timed race, she said, "Just go run." And I climbed on the bus. My stomach immediately settled down.
When the bus dropped us at the start I wandered around grabbing a bottle of water, a half a bagel, trying to figure out where the corral 27 would be. Then I noticed a booth labeled "Information". I stopped and explained that I did not have a race number bib, but I did have my confirmation and a photo ID with me. She told me to go to the next booth labeled "Solutions". At Solutions they checked my paper and identification and gave me my race bib, sent me to the next line where I got my chip which would document my time. My stomach and the little tightness between my shoulders eased back a bit more.
About a half hour later I found Celeste and we started the half marathon together, walking the whole way. My time for the race was 3:18:25, I averaged a 15.9 minute mile. I have a purple toe... really a bit frightening looking and sore hips and legs... but I did it. It was great. I felt great. I might even want to do it again after my toe looks normal again.
All that upset for nothing... when I know that nearly all upset is for nothing.
In fact, I feel like this race is a new beginning for me. Celeste and I talked about this as we walked... she too, had been in a slump. She told me she was going to begin to train for a small triathlon, I told her I was going to begin to work out with a trainer. We both at least have a next small step plan.
Roller coaster, I am getting off for a while.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Sunday Scribblings: Date
Today I went to AJ's to meet K. for coffee and a catch-up talk. She didn't come.
This is the kind of person I am. I make a commitment, I work to keep it. Now I tell myself that this is an anal attitude. I know that it is not necessarily healthy and that I need to become more gentle with myself and with others. Some promises, you cannot, should not keep... I know all this... but a lifetime of learned expectation is hard to break.
On the drive to AJ's I realized I did not have my cell phone. I remember thinking I should have brought it, in case I needed to call K. Somehow, even then, I sensed there might be a glitch in the plan.
When I got there and did not see her, I ordered a coffee, found a table where I would be easily seen, in the sun, pulled out the book I was reading, The Year of Magical Thinking, and began to read. It was lovely there, sitting in the sun. I think, only in Arizona can it be only forty degrees, but you can sit outside in the sun and be warmed all the way through.
I read the line, "it was like being nibbled to death by ducks." and immediately knew I what that felt like. I read, "I wrote the column letting readers know who I was." and thought I had a long way to go before I could write like that... but that I wanted to. I enjoyed myself. I jotted notes in my journal. I asked why I did not give myself the gift of sitting quietly, reading in the sun more often? I also knew she didn't arrive.
I wrote in my journal, "promise... forgiven but noted none the less".
When I got home, I checked my phone. No messages.
She said she called last night and left a message, but I had checked my machine and it did not have one... I do know, though, that my message machine is not getting everything.
She said maybe we could get together tomorrow... and maybe we can...
but at the moment, I am not ready to make it a date.
This is the kind of person I am. I make a commitment, I work to keep it. Now I tell myself that this is an anal attitude. I know that it is not necessarily healthy and that I need to become more gentle with myself and with others. Some promises, you cannot, should not keep... I know all this... but a lifetime of learned expectation is hard to break.
On the drive to AJ's I realized I did not have my cell phone. I remember thinking I should have brought it, in case I needed to call K. Somehow, even then, I sensed there might be a glitch in the plan.
When I got there and did not see her, I ordered a coffee, found a table where I would be easily seen, in the sun, pulled out the book I was reading, The Year of Magical Thinking, and began to read. It was lovely there, sitting in the sun. I think, only in Arizona can it be only forty degrees, but you can sit outside in the sun and be warmed all the way through.
I read the line, "it was like being nibbled to death by ducks." and immediately knew I what that felt like. I read, "I wrote the column letting readers know who I was." and thought I had a long way to go before I could write like that... but that I wanted to. I enjoyed myself. I jotted notes in my journal. I asked why I did not give myself the gift of sitting quietly, reading in the sun more often? I also knew she didn't arrive.
I wrote in my journal, "promise... forgiven but noted none the less".
When I got home, I checked my phone. No messages.
She said she called last night and left a message, but I had checked my machine and it did not have one... I do know, though, that my message machine is not getting everything.
She said maybe we could get together tomorrow... and maybe we can...
but at the moment, I am not ready to make it a date.
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
art news
Journal assignment:
Record your happiest moment of the day.
Today Caleb, a first grader with serious ants in his pants, walked into my room and asked me if we were working on positive/negative space again today... I almost fell down from the shock... I said yes, and when the class got themselves settled I demonstrated how we would continue cutting and pasting to complete our project. When I held my sample up, Caleb, who has to sit right in front of me, piped up, Oh, that is where the positive space is and that is where the negative is, as he pointed out the correct areas.
The class worked like beavers, most of them getting things cut and pasted the way I had shown them. Then we went around the room showing the work and identifying the positive and negative parts of the picture. Some of them got it, but many had to be prompted to answer correctly.
When their teacher arrived to pick them up, I asked Caleb to tell her what we had done. He held up his picture and while pointing showed her the negative and positive areas.
Makes me smile just to think about it... and challenged, too as I now see I need to be pretty creative to keep a step ahead of Caleb.
Record your happiest moment of the day.
Today Caleb, a first grader with serious ants in his pants, walked into my room and asked me if we were working on positive/negative space again today... I almost fell down from the shock... I said yes, and when the class got themselves settled I demonstrated how we would continue cutting and pasting to complete our project. When I held my sample up, Caleb, who has to sit right in front of me, piped up, Oh, that is where the positive space is and that is where the negative is, as he pointed out the correct areas.
The class worked like beavers, most of them getting things cut and pasted the way I had shown them. Then we went around the room showing the work and identifying the positive and negative parts of the picture. Some of them got it, but many had to be prompted to answer correctly.
When their teacher arrived to pick them up, I asked Caleb to tell her what we had done. He held up his picture and while pointing showed her the negative and positive areas.
Makes me smile just to think about it... and challenged, too as I now see I need to be pretty creative to keep a step ahead of Caleb.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
making all things new
I have spent the last two weeks with company in my house. Two weeks which were like traveling through the past. I had a look at where I had been, at what had felt so right and, in the end, what had gone wrong. I was reminded of all the energy I had spent on things that didn't matter or never worked out. I realized again that I had been filled with the effort of trying but was never satisfied. And my emotions followed what I was experiencing, moving from happiness and hope to a kind of sadness all over again.
But I am alive and today is a new day and life is a gift, not an achievement. This year I am going to open myself to being new, to being fresh, to being unformed. I am going to, as much as possible, live without a road map or expectation. I will do what I can to nurture myself, to make silence and space be central to how I live... and I will be attentive. And of course, I will do my best to reduce my stash of yarn.
All life begins in darkness. Right now I can still feel the lingering shadow of the past clinging to me, but I am beginning to sense a instinctive movement towards the light... a soft tentative shift towards a new beginning.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
