Believing in yourself

There are some things I take for granted. Things like my wacky sense of humor, my clumsiness, and my need to express my innermost self through writing.

Like the color of my eyes, writing is just part of me–nothing spectacular or unusual.

Then a total stranger read my poetry book and, in the words of his wife, “it brought tears to his eyes!” He declared my writing “better than Thomas Wolfe and Anais”!  I was in absolute shock when his wife requested I sign the book so she could present her husband with his own copy. The wonder of it all nearly brought tears to My eyes!

To take a line from one of my poems,”I can’t remember a time…when i didn’t think in rhyme…”  Poetry has always been my way of airing my deepest feelings. I always feel like a conduit for the words that seem to come of their own volition. Early in my life, I took one of my poems to show my mother, and she declared it “morbid.” After that, I kept my words to myself, privately filling notebook after notebook, and only rarely sharing with others.

It’s hard, to put your soul on display……..

That’s why I felt grateful and–relieved, I suppose–that someone liked – no, More than liked – my poetry. It was like…the ultimate acceptance of Me.

Does “Pigging Out” Give you Swine Flu?

(And other random thoughts….)

This morning, there was  a report on my favorite talk radio, about the extra precautions that would need to be put in place if the swine flu becomes a pandemic. Yes–I know, we are supposed to call it H1N1 or something like that–must have gotten flack from some pig farmers.

Anyway, the reporter was talking about the Catholic church and how there are so many ways the flu could be spread. Starting at the front door, there is the Holy water font. Everyone dipping their hands in a communal water bowl–Very unsanitary! My solution? Holy Water Mist–a spray bottle!

Then there’s communion. The priest passes out the wafers to everyone. Are his hands clean? And if his hands are clean, what about the last parishioner he gave a wafer to? The wine is often shared from a common cup–something we would never consider doing outside of church, flu or not! But rest easy–I also have a solution for this problem! For the wafer–a Pez dispenser! Perhaps made in the likeness of the Pope. As for the wine, how about those bottles they use to squirt water in the racers’ mouths? A side benefit would be that it could sure speed up Mass!

I think it’s a great idea. Anyone for “Shroud of Turin” hand-wipes?

Clear the Clutter, Clear the Way!

“Clear the clutter, clear the way”. That’s my favorite phrase. I believe we all create our own types of “clutter” that keeps us from going where we want to go in life. My motto refers to the very physical sense of the word–the piles of “stuff” we seem to collect as we go about our daily routines. Advertising does a great job of making us want–it doesn’t help much with follow through.

We are craft and book junkies. There was the hundreds of dollars we spent on rubber stamps, after taking a class on how to use them. Or the art supplies we wish we were talented (or motivated!) enough to use. Books are a worse addiction–I’m sure there must be 10-step  programs, but in the meantime–perhaps a used bookstore?

I love craft magazines and cooking magazines. Hate cooking, just love to look at the recipes (the first step is to admit you have a problem). I’m always thinking I will make something or cook something “one day soon.” Meanwhile, to quote John Lennon (my other favorite saying), “Life is what happens while you’re busy making other plans.”

We have decided to clear the clutter. After all, one of our dreams is to travel the country by motor home. And if we can’t fit everything in a 1200-foot house, we’ll never fit it all in a motor home–not even one of those quarter-million-dollar behemoths!

So we are weeding out, throwing out, and donating. Sure enough, the house feels lighter already! And one good turn encourages another. I think we have the momentum going so we can finally “clear the clutter” to clear the way to our future dreams.

March to a different drummer

I’ve always preferred musical instruments that don’t depend on being able to read music.  Thus the reason for my Indian flute. Wooden, only 5 holes, and lovely sounding no matter what I do or don’t do. I can make up songs as I go along, playing only to please myself.

For the same reason, hand drums have always fascinated me. Back when I was a child, we made instruments out of cereal boxes and rubber bands (a guitar), or empty oatmeal containers (a drum). Those were the days when imagination played a large part in any activity. I was always the drummer. As a pre-teen during the “British Invasion”, Ringo was the Beatle I adored.

So it seemed natural that I would gravitate towards percussion, but in high school I was encouraged to take up flute. Drums were for boys! So I put down my oatmeal can and tried to love the flute. It is a beautiful instrument but complicated–the wooden one I have now suits me much better!

A few days ago, we (my husband and I) bought a couple drums. His is an African Djembe, mine an (East) Indian Doumbak. Together we make loud, enthusiastic, Joyous noise! The rhythm is our own–as such we are often out of sync but always in harmony. The beat is individual, like a  hypnotic, throbbing heartbeat. Not sure how the neighbors feel but we Love our new toys!

To (mis) quote a song, “If you get a choice to sit it out or drum”…….DRUM! Life is too short to waste on the sidelines. Join the band!

Do Dreams Have Soundtracks?

It’s a well-known fact that dreams can be in glorious Technicolor—I don’t know, I’ve never really paid attention. But this is the first time I ever had a dream with Sound! I specifically remember the song “Sweet dreams are made of these, who am I to disagree. You travel the world and the 7 seas. Everybody’s looking for something”……… the dream itself took place in a kind of “America’s got talent” setting—only this was all women. We were all dressed in lime green tops and white pants. Everyone did a musical number at the end. I just remember mine was pretty ordinary—just stand and sing kind of a deal. The woman who won had this amazing costume and choreography and such.  Can’t recall if she was the one who sang that song….maybe.  All I know is that was the song that I woke up with in my head. Weird!

Even now, with the strains of the song still drifting though my brain, the memory of the dream itself is fading. Maybe because I’ve returned to the mundane routine of the “real world”.  Koa is trying to walk on my keyboard and, failing that, trying to circle around the back on my laptop, knocking things over on the desk as he goes and curling his fluffy tail around the screen so that I type through a sea of gray fur. It’s bizarre—but this time I’m awake. I know—because the music has stopped. I can’t help but wonder—am I going nuts?  If so—it’s good to know insanity comes with a great soundtrack!

Bats in the…Where??

I swear I just saw a leaf fall off the big tree in our front yard. A reminder—a warning, if you will—that winter is coming.

The change of seasons still moves me as powerfully as it did ages ago when I was a child. The fall of a single leaf, or the shiver of a cold morning instantly transports me back in time. Once again I smell turkey roasting, leaves burning, and that particular tang of pre-winter air. My mouth waters for the crisp bite of an apple, or the freshly-pressed cider and I can almost feel the hefty weight of a large pumpkin.

The only thing I dislike about the colder weather is the way it drives all the bugs and critters inside. Although, really, we think Koa (the cat) was responsible for the bat. Yes—you read that right—a Bat! 5 am in the morning, pitch black, I grope my way to the kitchen. As I enter the Living Room, Koa leaps from my arms—an unusual event as he likes to “snuggle” in the morning while I carry him to the kitchen. He’d no sooner jumped down when Milly came sliding around the corner barking, followed closely by Ralphie. Both dogs were obviously hot on the trail of Something!

I had made it to the kitchen by this point, turned on a light, then grabbed a flashlight and aimed at the Living Room, thinking it was another hapless—but Dead—bird that Koa had brought in. Wrong! Circling the ceiling fan in a black blur, was a Bat! The frenzy had awoken my husband—he thought it was a bird. “That’s no bird,” I said. “Birds can’t fly that fast—or that well!” Only something equipped with sonar—something equipped to navigate at night—could have circumvented the (rotating!) ceiling fan! I mean, truly, it was an amazing site.

Rick opened the front door, thinking we could shoo it back outside. Koa had other ideas. As the dogs whined and barked and ran in circles, Koa calmly hopped onto a chair, then leapt into the air, knocking the bat to the ground. Koa has no front claws so we knew the creature was only stunned. I ran for the broom and dustpan while Rick kept the dogs away from the “toy” they so badly wanted. Then he scooped the bat into the dustpan, covering it with the broom. Immediately the bat started “chittering” loudly, a sound that raised goose bumps and made me think of every old vampire movie I had ever seen. Rick took his captive outside and set him free and life returned  to normal….until the next event!

Fire and Fireworks!

Went camping this past weekend. The spots were pretty small but the view was great! And we were within an hour’s drive of the Big Thompson River canyon–a beautiful drive ending at Estes Park-”Gateway to the Rockies.” We spent one day driving to and from Estes. The town was crowded as usual and the dogs handled things fairly well with one or two growly exceptions. Ralphie isn’t real tolerant of change. We also aren’t fond of crowds or shopping so we didn’t linger longer than it took to buy some salt water taffy and window shop down a block or two.

We were treated to nightly fireworks shows that illuminated the lake with bursts of color. Not sure the occasion–we graciously accepted the show as being in our honor. A nearly-full moon cast a large, eerie glow over the lake and a sky full of stars added to the magic.

The first night’s idyllic silence was disturbed by the neighbor, who decided to start his wood fire with gasoline. All went well until his son decided it needed another shot and promptly set the gas can, grass, and almost himself, on fire! I kept a close eye on them the rest of the weekend!

All together it was a fun, mostly relaxing weekend. Every timme we go we find it harder to return to civilization. A sign at the  exit to one campground said it best: “Now leaving paradise. Returning to the rat race”!

Finally–the 4th of July!

So the 4^th of July arrived on schedule—July 25^th. The aforementioned celebration that fizzled on the 4^th and had to be rescheduled went off as planned on Saturday night. Once again we took dogs and blanket and warm jackets and took up our post at the mall.

It wasn’t nearly as crowded this time. Perhaps it was because it was 3 weeks after the fact, or maybe it was the lack of advertisement, but the atmosphere was definitely low-key. The dogs, tired from an earlier trip to the pet store, flopped down on the blanket and snored through most of the show.  And what a show it was! Well worth the 3-week wait! Even worth coming out in the rain that thoughtfully stopped just in time.

So the 4^th of July may have been a bit behind schedule this year—at least in our town—but it reinforced the truth that good things really do come to those who wait!

Camping Ain’t for Sissies!

So we made it–our first tent camping experience in over 10 years! I was a bit worried–I am Not an “outdoorsy” type, and neither is Rick. But it worked out fine. Better than fine in fact–It was Glorious!

We couldn’t have picked 2 better days. The monsoonal rains stopped and the skies were that blue seen only in Colorado. We set up camp without incident (other than having to untangle the dogs tie-out chains frequently), and settled in for a 2-night stay. We were glad we had decided to get a bigger tent.

The campground wasn’t crowded, since we had chosen to stay a Tuesday and Wednesday night. During the day, we drove the surrounding area, checking out another (tent only, slightly more primitive) campground nearby. We also toured our campground, checking other sites for future use. We decided we had chosen a perfect spot! This campground’s website had the advantage of being able to see photos of every site–great idea!

At night, we toasted hotdogs and marshmallows over an open fire and agreed that food tastes best when done that way! We even tried “Hobo popcorn”–where you put a little oil and popcorn on a foil square, fold it into a loose bundle, then  hold it over the fire until it pops.  The result was more fun than food but that was okay by us!

We had brought a portable DVD player along and had movie night–just like home! We could hear elk bugeling, and the howl of coyotes  nearby but no actual sitings. There was a communal trash bin with a “bear bar” across the lid, and we carefully locked away any food in our car at night. But the only wild creatures we saw were ground squirrels, who seemed to take great pleasure in darting across in front of the dogs, just out of reach of their tie-outs.

We came home sore and tired but also happy, relaxed, and already planning our next trip!

Happy 25th of July!

Looks like the 4th will be delayed this year. The “largest fireworks display in the state” kind of fizzled Saturday. We took the dogs and a blanket (totally forgetting those new folding chairs we bought for camping…) and went to a local mall. We used to be able to see the show from our front lawn but there is now a duplex in the line of site. So we parked behind a store at the mall and made ourselves comfortable on the lawn. The rain had let up for the evening, it was pleasantly sweater-cool, surprisingly uncrowded–perfect!

The show did get started with some fireworks. A group of kids sat in a row on a low wall, all chanting “Oooh!” in unison. The dogs had finally settled down. Idyllic!

The fun lasted all of 10 minutes then the fireworks stopped. We could see other fireworks in surrounding towns, off in the distance. They kept going. And this had happened last year–where the show suddenly stopped, then just as you thought that was the end, started up again. So we waited. And waited. Everyone else cleared out and we reluctantly left. Almost lost Ralphie when he took off after Something! I’m not a lightweight, but I’m no match for 110 pounds of determination, and I only slowed him down enough so that he spun and pulled out of his collar. Rick and Malia ran after him and I followed, both of us shouting “Ralphie!” Fortunately he stopped – no harm done. “Good doggie!”

The fireworks event (or lack thereof) made the local news. Turns out something had gone wrong with an electrical system, causing problems with not only the fireworks but a big concert scheduled for that night. Good thing we didn’t pay to watch! The event was rescheduled for July 25. On the way home we passed the flood of cars heading home from the event. They will all get into the July 25th show, as will we. I already reserved our lawn seats!