JOYFUL SOUNDS RING OUT

If only we listen

Anyone who reads this blog even sporadically knows that I do love my morning walks. They are for keeping me, not only somewhat fit, but sane.

On a recent morning the symphony of sound coming from a soloist mockingbird in a nearby tree prompted me to stop and listen. What joy! The variety and scope of this little guy's tunes was amazing. I thought to myself, "If only..." I wanted to hold onto this joyful rendering, but how?

As I stood transfixed I could not help but think if only the sound could be captured in my mind, all worries, stress, concerns, problems, foibles even would simply disappear. Silly thought perhaps, but...well, what if...?

I think that it is worth pondering the question a bit longer.

WHY NOT...?

Why not holiday butterflies?

In the midst of working the early shift and dealing with what life brings into play, the holidays just seem to have taken a bit of a "back seat."

When I blithely said to a friend yesterday that maybe I would just have the ingredients on hand for a nice spaghetti dinner for Christmas day, she was aghast. "Wasn't tradition important to me?"

Don't get me wrong, I love traditions and place value on them.  But...when it comes right down to it, what really matters to me is not the tree, not the presents, not the wrapping, the songs, or the holiday baking. What really matters is having those I love near me, not only at this holiday season, but all the time.

So butterflies, spaghetti,...why not?

TOO MUCH FUN

Something really special to get to spend ten days with this great young man...grandson #1 also known as CEMA or Christian. Fourteen years old and going to be a freshman in high school.

What fun we had  ! And he was such a big 
help with so many things--Sawdust booth sitting to planting around the yard.
Afternoons were spent on the basketball court of course and late nights watching movies. 

I'm exhausted, but such a great kind of exhaustion. Super to spend time with this polite, thoughtful young man. Love him lots!

I THINK I CAN, I THINK I CAN...

Program cover

It has been a busy week and I have a feeling this is only the start of others like it, but I am striving to stay committed to the promised two blogs per week.

In between creating art and framing it and all the little bits and pieces of getting ready for the summer festival there was still time to have some wonderful family time. 

On Wednesday we had been invited to eight year old Felix's charter school in LA to see his class perform a wonderful play based on their field trips to various ocean themed sites.

The kids wrote and choreographed the entire play themselves and did an impressive job. The costuming was fantastic and all was coordinated and very well attended.

After the program we all spent the remainder of the day together. Some of us (and yes, I'm still a bit sore) engaged in some rowdy basketball together. I found it a struggle to match up to fourteen year old Christian, but hung in there. The long shots were what killed me...no three pointers for me!

We enjoyed a wonderful dinner together sharing what we found special about the day. Needless to say, everyone mentioned that the play was "IT." And the being all together.

Special family time for sure!!

Felix was an octopus

OLD MEMORIES, LIKE FINE WINE.......

Distant Mountains/Distant Memories

Some of us are more nostalgic than others, I suppose, but I do believe there is some need for looking back in each of us. Part of the richness of life comes from sweet or bittersweet familiarity that often inexorably draws us back into our past. For just a brief moment of time we can get to be four years old or fourteen and again be that someone special in someone's life--the favored grandchild or the first love or....

On this bitter cold winter day my mind takes me back to long ago memories of a childhood rich with sights, smells, touch, taste that even today can conjure special moments into the present time.

Times spent at my grandparents' home on the edge of a canyon in Redlands, California were always special. Wandering through the orange groves or picking avocados from a dozen trees or so, picking blackberries from the vines at the edge of a ravine in summer.... Crows circled overhead cawing loudly as they chased a soaring hawk; orange juice dripping down to elbows as I slurped through a juicy navel; purple stained fingers and bloody scratches on my arms from a foray into the vines...These and other memories of languishing with ease on a given warm day still are strong and present in my mind today.

"Don't sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me...," my grandmother's flute-like voice sang the words, her body swaying to the music, eyes looking far off somewhere as she played the piano. There I sat next to her, taking it all in, my feet dangling over the edge of the rich tapestry cushion that covered the piano bench. Looking back, I wonder what memories had gotten her attention in those moments.

Then there were the evenings sitting in front of the black and white television as my grandparents watched Spade Cooley, Lawrence Welk, or I Love Lucy. Smoke from their cigarettes drifted up through the light from the lamp between their two chairs as I watched from my place on the oriental rug that covered the floor.

As one of four children in what often seemed a chaotic life, these times alone with my grandparents or just alone as I wandered their property were special. I felt a bond, both with them and with the land that has stuck with me through the years.

Every day we make new memories that become interwoven into the fabric of our lives. The present, past and future intertwine to form a life. Yet we sip at the memories from the past and savor them like fine, aged wine. For they are
special.