Cars, Kitchens and Chaos

So, Nick says to me on Saturday afternoon that he saw these really cool light fixtures at Lowe's that could replace the ugly and terrible (my words, though I'm sure he was also thinking them) 20-year old track lighting spotlights in the kitchen.  We decide to go on Sunday and since it's easier to pick him up on the way, I drive to his place around 11:00 the next morning, we spend a few minutes dinking, then get in the Blazer to head for Lowe's.

The car won't start.  Dead as a doornail.  (And hey, what exactly is a doornail...???)**

I look at Nick, he looks at me, then he gets out of the car, lifts the hood, does some tinkering and discovers my battery is a complete goner.  I had no red light warning, saw no change in the gauge, but the thing is toast.  As I'm slightly stressing about the situation, Nick says, "Well, the car couldn't have died in a better place."  And because he's totally right, I just resigned myself to the inevitable and let him rescue me...again.  Course, he knew right where to go for the new battery, even got me a discount, and an hour later we're back on track and off to Lowe's.

[Have I mentioned already that I'm anticipating imminent dumpage?  Seriously.  The Blazer has run like a dream for years--yes, with regular maintenance--and yet in the past two+ weeks, I've Nick has replaced the water pump, running boards, and now the battery.  I'm telling you, dear readers, it's only a matter of time before he decides enough already.  Cripes...]

Anyway.  We get to Lowe's, and although I've just spent the light fixture money on the new battery (holy crap they're expensive these days!), he was right: the lights are really great...and they're on sale. So what the heck, I buy three--to go over the kitchen sink and counters--and with his usual attitude of no time like the present, we have lunch, get back to my house, and...

My wonderful new lights...

There will be three more on the other side of the kitchen to light up the stove and counters, though Lowe's was out of the hanging part of the fixture so they had to be ordered and won't be in until next week--a delay I'm fine with because, honestly, what with all the car rescues and stuff, I'd really like the man to just come to my house and not do any work.

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The West Coast is having a record-breaking heat wave, running from Anchorage, Alaska to San Diego, California.  That's 3,750 miles--give or take--of blistering heat, forest fires and temps in the high 90s and low 100s.  Friday will hit 103 here, in southern Oregon, then for the next three weeks, most days will hover right at the 100* mark.  It gives me brain fry just to think of it.

It's too weird having deep August temperatures in June.  My only hope is that by actual August it will be October weather as we seem to be at least six weeks ahead of normal this year. Unfortunately, I fear this could be shaping up to be the Summer The West Coast Burned.  I don't know when the unrelenting drought will end...or maybe this will be the new West: deserts, dust devils and fire.  It's frightening.  And probably not the time to be living on a mountain, surrounded by forest...just my luck.

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Still.  While I'm laying on the cold Italian tiles in the kitchen for the rest of the Summer as it swelters and scorches outside...I can admire my beautiful new light fixtures.

And dream of autumn days and warm soup, cozy socks and flannel jammies, pumpkins and falling leaves.  Sigh...

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** Okay, peeps, you know I had to look it up.  




Doornails are the large-headed studs that were used in earlier times for strength and more recently as decoration. The practice was to hammer the nail through and then bend the protruding end over to secure it. This process, similar to riveting, was called clenching. This may be the source of the 'deadness', as such a nail would be unusable afterwards.








(Answer and photo courtesy of todayifoundout.com)

Hey, Pop...

Happy Father's Day to all the great, kind and loving Dads out there...no matter what form they take...

P.S.  I'll be thinking about your smile today, how your blue eyes twinkled when you'd laugh at one of your own corny jokes, and I'll always remember your welcoming hugs every time I came home to visit.  Miss you, Pop...

Last Week Was A Doozy

About two weeks ago, I stubbed my big toe...really, really bad.  Just as it was getting dark one night, I stumbled on the front deck steps after saying goodbye to Nick, managed to catch myself, but still teetering, slammed my foot into the riser.  Agony, a lot of whimpering, I hobbled up the last several stairs to the front door and fortunately looked down before I walked onto the carpet.  Blood is pouring out the top half of my big toe and running over the side of my flip flop.

Holy crap.

I do a quick scan up and down the mountain road, then take off my shirt and wrap it around my foot so I can get across the carpet to the kitchen without leaving a CSI crime scene trail in my wake.  Up on the counter, foot in the sink, water flushing the wound so I can assess the damage. Damage I don't want to look at, let alone assess, but I suck it up, get everything clean...and realize I've nearly ripped the nail clear off.  I'm not sure what to do, so I wrap the toe in gauze and tape in the hope that the nail will somehow miraculously reattach itself.

Then I stub the dang thing at least twenty times over the next ten days requiring endless bandaging and mollycoddling.

Monday, last week, out of the shower, drying off, I look down at my foot...and what in flaming hell is wrong with that nail?  It's...**gulp**...twisted somehow, like almost turned sideways. Eeewwwww.

Long story short, skipping gory details:  I had to pull off the nail.  To the base.  The process was wretched and ugly and yes, there were tears.  And although it was one of my top five yuckiest moments to date, within hours of being nail-less, my toe felt better.  No more throbbing, no more painful swelling, just blessed relief...

Tuesday, I went grocery shopping, came out of the store and found that someone had backed into my Blazer and wrecked the running board on the passenger side.  Bits and pieces were laying on the ground, though thankfully the running board saved my car from getting bashed which would have been way more aggravating.  With Nick's most excellent help, I found some replacement running boards online, delivery expected by Thursday.

Wednesday, hot and miserably muggy day.  Stuck in traffic, A/C roaring, I'm at one of the worst intersections in town (a 12-way which is beyond-description horrible) when my water pump decides to implode.  Chaos ensues as you can imagine, dear readers, what with the soaring temps, the traffic, my rising anxiety and imminent heatstroke.

And honestly?  If I were Nick about now, I would dump me at the first opportunity because, yet again, he comes to my rescue. We get the car towed back to the house, then he takes me to the car parts place and we order a new water pump.  Coincidentally, both the running boards and the pump are delivered on Thursday.

I was feeling guilty about Nick doing all this work for me, but he told me not to worry, we'd have fun doing the car together.  I was still protesting when he left Thursday evening.

Friday, I get up, turn on the laptop and get this email/photo from Nick...

Caption read: "Help comes in all shapes and sizes"

He was leaving for work that morning and saw this spider hitching a ride on the back of a very large snail.  I laughed out loud...and smiled for the rest of the day.

So.  We did indeed spend the weekend inside the engine and underneath the Blazer and it was fun. Now my baby runs like a dream and has shiny new running boards, too.

I'm gonna owe Nick until the end of time.

And I don't mind one bit...

Man, Oh Man...

...what a great weekend.  The weather at the coast was outstanding, in the mid-70s, brilliant sunshine all day, once the early morning fog dissipated.

And riding the dunes?  I'm officially hooked.  It was wild and crazy and exciting, and I laughed like a lunatic from start to finish.  There's something about climbing a vertical dune, then plunging down the other side in a rush of wind and sand while hanging on for dear life that's just indescribable.

Nick said at one point, when we stopped so I could take some photos, that he'd never known anyone to laugh so much in the face of death.  I swiveled my Darth Vader helmet head and said, "Death?" He smiled and said, "Nothing for you to worry about, but there were a couple of dicey moments going over that last ridge line."

"Which moments?" I ask, suddenly concerned that I was clueless about the possibility of my imminent demise.

He just grinned, said he had years of experience, reassured me he wouldn't let anything bad happen and told me to just keep laughing.  I took him at his word and had the best couple of days a woman could ask for.

I didn't take as many photos as expected--too much fun racing up and down dunes all day--but I still got some good shots.  Here's a smattering...


We were racing toward the water so I could get photos of the Coos Bay bridge.  I have a thing for really dramatic bridge structures and this 1930s cantilever bridge--on the National Register of Historic Places--is a beauty.  So we had a great three mile run, even catching some serious air a time or two.

Off in the distance (middle of picture) is the bridge...



For an idea how high up on the dune we were when I took the bridge shots, notice the SUV below us...

On our way back to the truck at mid-afternoon, Nick did some fancy swirls and spins around these dead trees, then I asked him to stop so I could get a shot of the stark reality of the dunes...sea grass, dead trees and endless miles of sand...

Sunday morning we got a very early start.  Had breakfast at a little Mom and Pop pancake place where everyone at the other tables started chatting with us, and before too long it was like we were locals.  Small town America at its best.

Then we drove to a different place to ride, crossing Coos Bay, and the bridge couldn't have been more wonderful in the early morning fog...

                                     

All around the dunes, there are these pools of water, brought by the rain and fog.  Dozens of oasis(es?) tucked willy nilly at the bottom of several dunes, some hidden and hard to see, others large and deep.

Again, we stopped at the top of a dune.  Below us, skirting the water in the center of the shot, is a lone rider and in the far distance behind the trees, fog is rising off the ocean.  We drove to the sea, but it was too damp and foggy for pictures...

Another series of pools...

We stopped for lunch at an Airstream trailer turned into a most excellent diner and while Nick talked to some guys interested in his modifications to the Maverick, I wandered toward the bay and took this last shot of a gull as he flew next to the railroad bridge.  Love the Bay bridge arches in the background.

It would have been great to get more photos, but the weekend was more about riding.  And though there were apparently some death-defying moments, I was having too much fun to care.

A perfect weekend, then.

Screwdrivers and Sand Dunes

Honestly. between working my way through The Chores and daydreaming about Nick...I just can't seem to find time to write these days.  Inexcusable, I know, but there you go.  In the rush of a burgeoning relationship, it appears I've lost any talent for multi-tasking, being able to focus for longer than five seconds, or remembering why I've gone from one room to another. Good thing I don't have to operate heavy machinery.

I've also found myself shaking my head in amazement at Nick's ability to fix anything.  So far, he's fixed the back door, the screen door at the front, the water pressure in the shower, balanced the washing machine and changed the flickering fluorescent lights in the laundry room.  He knows exactly where I keep my tools and usually has my favorite screwdriver in his hand not long after he arrives.  I've tried to hide the thing because I really don't want him to feel like he has to work for his supper...but he just goes to his truck, gets his own screwdriver and carries on.  I'm trying not to get used to this turn of events--if it's broke, I'm the one usually doing the fixing--but really, having a guy around who can do anything?  You bet I'm smiling...

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Yesterday I spent the day cleaning out my closet.  Well, my intent was to clean it out, but after four hours and a heap of things for the thrift shop or the bin, I was shocked and dismayed to realize I had only sorted through shoes and one wall of stuff.  I have two walls to go, plus shelves. The hard part about cleaning out a closet is having to try on all the clothes/shoes and make decisions about what to save or what to release back into the wild.  And there are lots of memories in these little pieces of fabric; doesn't matter that I'll never be a size 6 again in this lifetime.

Before...                                                                     After...

Hot and grueling as the experience was, it's encouraging to see the vast difference between the start of the task and the end result--even if the true end result is still days from being accomplished.

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But the closet sorting will have to wait until next week.  Because I've been diverted by this bad boy...

Nick and I are off to the Oregon coast this weekend to ride the dunes.  Can't wait to put on my Darth Vader helmet and start screaming in fear yelling with excitement at the thrill of it all...and to take some great photos...

That's way more fun than cleaning the closet...

No Complaints

There comes a time in a new relationship--depending on circumstance--when the inevitable meeting of family and friends occurs.  I've always found it difficult to go from the excitement of getting to know someone one-on-one, to the nervous breakdown phase of being introduced to the other part of a person's life.

Nick asked me to go with him to a Memorial Day BBQ...with most of his motley crew of friends and cohorts.  My stomach flipped, heart raced.  Ah man, isn't it too soon?  We've only know each other for 3+ weeks.  Isn't that a bit early to meet the crew?  He assures me it's all good, so I make a big bowl of potato salad and try to calm the jitters.  What if they don't like me?  What if I don't like them? What if an asteroid hits the planet and I have to somehow fight to survive with these total strangers? (Hey, it could happen!)

However, other than that first awkward moment when we walked out onto the back deck and everyone turned to stare at the "new girl", the party was really fun.  His friends were sweet and welcoming, and the heaps of food were amazing and delicious.  I laughed my head off, told a few good stories myself, and felt like an idiot at the end of the day for worrying, even when I met Nick's sister--who was really nice, by the way.  (And thankfully, the rest of his family lives in Colorado, because there's only so much a girl can take in one day).

I don't seem to be getting much done lately, what with these new and unexpected Nick distractions. It's been quite awhile since I've had long, meandering phone conversations, shared dinners with someone, or been to a really great party.  I often find myself staring off into space, mind spinning with the changes that have transpired in just one short month.

And ladies, just between us?  I forgot how time-consuming it is to have a man around.

I'm not complaining.

Take A Moment

Memorial Day, 2015

The mystic cords of memory, stretching from every 

battlefield and patriot grave to every living heart...

Should swell into a mighty chorus of remembrance, 

gratitude and rededication on this solemn occasion.

                                         --Abraham Lincoln

Buddha and Boyfriends

Still working my way down the very long To Do List, which will take me clear through the Summer and into early Fall.  I'm trying to pace myself, take my time...after all, I have at least three months to accomplish my tasks.

So, yesterday, to break the monotony of what seems like endless chores, I went into town and wasted some quality time by window shopping and checking out the new stuff at Pier 1, one of my favorite places to dream and admire and fantasize about owning a beach bungalow somewhere on the Eastern Seaboard.

What I found was this amazing piece of art that I just couldn't resist.  Thankfully it was on sale, with a further 20% discount, and I also had a coupon for $15 dollars off any purchase.  Good thing, too, because I think I might have paid full price no matter what--which definitely wasn't in my budget after the dishwasher fiasco.

Let me digress for a moment:

I've been looking for a large piece of...something...to hang over my bed.  I change my duvet covers with the seasons, so whatever I found had to be neutral to work with four totally different patterns and fabrics.  I've been on the hunt for this elusive item for ages.

So, yesterday.  I'm wandering in the nether region of the store where the pictures and art pieces are stacked against two walls and I begin rummaging.



And there it was.  The one.  I pulled it out from behind several other art works and just stared in amazement.  It's about 2-1/2 feet by 3-1/2 feet, four solid wood planks, carved in Indonesia, signed by the artist. I knew it was going to kill me to turn the price tag over, but then I did--and realized it might be doable with the various discounts and holy crap, this is going to be MINE.


It's beautiful and looks incredible in real life.  Every single time I go into my bedroom, I can't help smiling.

My most excellent Buddha...

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It's another long weekend, peeps; the holiday that effectively kicks off Summer.  I have some plans, though not sure what Nick and I will decide to do in the end.

Wait...  Nick?  Who's Nick, you're wondering?

It's early days--couple weeks so far--and I haven't mentioned him because I didn't want to jinx anything, but yeah, there's a possible, maybe, too soon to tell, boyfriend kinda guy named Nick who seems interested in knowing me.  He's been over for dinner a few times and we talk on the phone every day, so the interest is going both ways.  I'll share the first meeting one of these days...even the blushing and stuttering parts where I acted more inept than a 15 year old once I realized what was happening.

Clueless doesn't come close...but hey, I'm totally out of practice.  And it's scary cool...

Whew..!!

This has been the busiest week ever.  Honestly, from Mother's Day weekend to this moment, it's been non-stop.

I had a great time with Mom, though it was also really good to hang out with just my sister and do girly things too.  And eat out.  And go the mall.  And stay up way too late drinking wine and laughing our heads off.

After my sister left to drive home on Monday, I had a house full of men washing all the windows, inside and out, including the skylights so there were even guys up on the roof.  "It's raining men," (hallelujah) kept running through my head the whole time the crew were here.  It's great to have all the windows shiny and clean...even better that I didn't have to climb a 30-ft ladder or get on the roof myself.

The window cleaning started the week and things just got more busy as the days went on with appointments and errands and chores.  Every night I'd sit at the laptop, my mind whirling from all the stuff I'd done that day and what had to be done the next, so rather than write, all I could do was sigh and shut the machine off.

I know things have become too fraught when I haven't read a book in over two weeks.  But now, at last, it's Sunday afternoon and I'm caught up with so many things I can hardly believe later today I'll actually be able to sit down and read.

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Yesterday, the last of the gardening work was finished.  I'm set for the Summer--only the lawn to mow each week, and the backyard pots and containers to water--which is a great feeling especially after all the work I've done to get to this point.

I took some shots yesterday of my begonia, columbine and iris blooms.  I might not like the scorching heat of the impending Summer, but I do love the colors and beauty of the flowers that bask in the sunshine...

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It will be good to get back to a more regular and reasonable schedule again.  I miss my walks with the boys, so have started a new exercise regime.  I'm calling it Joyful Dancing.  I have dozens of SiriusXM radio channels on my TV, so I picked one that plays Jukebox Gold...and I dance to 70s and 80s tunes.

The dancing--and the idea--started on Friday when I wanted to listen to some music while I was working.  I picked a station, but before I could get back to work, the first song had me dancing around the house, then the second one was a great dance song too and before I knew it, I'd danced about eight in a row and was breathless and sweaty from the workout.  Well then.  Who needs an exercise machine or a gym?  I've got music, rhythm, and my feet.

So, I dance for a solid half an hour, flying around the house doing hardcore twisting and turning, wiggling and shaking.  It's been really fun, though Saturday morning after my first "session" on Friday, I was so stiff, I crawled out of bed moaning and groaning.

Still.  I love to dance and can't think of a better way to exercise, even if it hurts.

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I expect to post the next installment of the story this coming week.  I've let it languish for well over a month now, leaving Mitch and Kate in a dicey predicament.  They've been banging and shouting in my head a lot lately, so unless I want Ace to use me as his personal chew toy, I have to get back into the plot soon.

Okay, now Joe Walsh is singing "All Night Long" and I've gotta get dancing.  So, come on, peeps, get your feet moving and join me...it will make you smile...really.

Mom's Weekend...

My sister is driving down from Washington, then we're headed further south to our mother's for her birthday and Mother's Day celebrations.  The weather is to be in the mid-80s, sunny and warm, so we've planned a picnic and have loads of gifts and goofy things for Mom that should make for some good laughs and fun.  I'll be out of town and off the grid until Monday.

Have a great weekend, peeps...and for all you Moms out there:

** Happy Mother's Day  **

Holiday Photos

Well, here I am at the hotel.  It's warm and sunny, palm trees are swaying in the gentle trade winds, the air is redolent with the heady scents of hibiscus and ginger.

The ocean whispers, beckoning me to the water's edge to sink my feet in the wet sand as the sea laps at my toes.  Here's the incredible view from my balcony...

Before I hit the beach and revel in the tropical mindset of slow and easy, I think I'll head to the tiki bar and order a lovely, cold umbrella drink from one of the yummy cabana boys I can see below, smiling at their customers as they deliver beverages beside the pool...

Such a wonderful holiday.  I'm so glad I was able to save up for it this year...


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New dishwasher installed yesterday...so much for my holiday money....sigh.

Busy Weekend

The weekend kicked off early on Thursday with my neighbor and I driving all over town buying emergency supplies to send to Nepal.

Along my winding mountain road there are 18 houses scattered across the ridge. Several months ago a new family moved into the first house. The man is a doctor, from Nepal, although he's been in America for quite some time and his two small kidlets were born here.

Jen, (the neighbor), spent her childhood in India with her American/British parents.  She said in the village where her family lived--close to the border between India and Nepal--she could see the Himalayas and the lights from Kathmandu.  She loved the people and has a deep affinity for the region.

After the terrible earthquake last week, Jen went to the doctor's house to see if there was anything she could do, considering his entire family--and his wife's--live in and around Kathmandu. When he told her he was leaving Friday night with a team of colleagues, nurses and interns to help in the relief efforts, Jen asked for a list of medical supplies that he could box up and take with him.

Then she called me.  We went to Costco first, then stopped at two medical supply stores and a place that services the local hospitals.  When curious peeps asked what we were doing (because we had way more gauze pads and bandages than normal), we explained, and--cool part now--the shops gave us discounts and customers donated money to help us buy more supplies.  It was heartwarming, and restored a tiny measure of faith that there's an inherent decency in most people.

Sandesh and his crew are now on the ground, somewhere in Nepal.

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Saturday, Jen and I went into town to find her some new Summer duds.  Last year she was just finishing her mastectomy surgery and chemo; new clothes were way, way down on her list of priorities. We had fun shopping, then she said she wanted to go to Michael's for a new coloring book. I laugh, think she's kidding.  She wasn't and told me the books got her through endless rounds of chemo.

A whole new world opened up for me.  Sometimes I wonder about the stuff I don't know. Like, who knew there was an entire department at Michael's with coloring books for adults, and all the pencils, pens and equipment needed for coloring in them?  (Okay, probably everyone but me).  I was amazed and intrigued. And got hooked in about ten seconds flat.

I bought the Celtic Flowers book because it looked fairly easy, then couldn't resist the Mandala book, though wow, it's so complicated I don't know what I was thinking.

So, Saturday night, movie on the television, I sat at the dining room table listening while I colored in my new book.  It's incredibly relaxing, soothing and very, very fun.

The blank page...and the almost completed image:

I'm clueless about "painting" with gel pens, so I'm learning as I go.  But one thing hasn't changed since my early days with that familiar yellow box of crayons: I still can't stay within the lines.

Great colors in the adult version of Crayolas, too.

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Finally got my new birdbath yesterday.  I've been waiting for months--since my beautiful cobalt blue one cracked in the freezing temps over the Winter. This one is ruby red, though looks sort of brownish in my photo. I had barely gotten it filled with water when a blue jay came flying in, squawking like a town crier. I can't wait till word gets out and all the birds come back for their early morning baths...

Then later in the afternoon, I planted my fuchsias in the five hanging baskets.  I found a new style to replace two baskets that were falling apart.  They sort of have a tulip shape and I loved the soft, green jewels.

When I was finished planting and starting to clean up, I realized my throat was scratchy and my nose was burning.  I looked toward the coast range...and was stunned to see thick smoke filling the valley from a forest fire.  It doesn't bode well for the coming dry months.  Within the hour, it looked like this...

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It was definitely a busy weekend.

There's much to be said for helping others in desperate times; learning a new way to craft color into my world; anticipating the joy of watching hummingbirds dine on juicy fuchsia blooms all Summer...and listening to the blue jays chatter and argue each morning as they bathe...

A Smudge, A Sniffle and a Sigh

I got up at dawn this morning to rejuvenate my house, car and landscape.  It was a cool, clear start to the day, just a few birds beginning to stir as the sun began to rise over the mountains.

I've been pondering which of my six smudge sticks to use, then decided last night on the Four Winds since I was covering lots of ground--literally and spiritually--and needed all the help I could get.

Four Winds: Copal, Lavender, Sweetgrass, White Sage...

The smoke was thick and fragrant, the sweet aroma drifting through the air with the movements of my beautiful hawk feather (found long ago on a hike in the Painted Desert of Arizona).  The heady scent reminds me of an early Spring morning in the pristine red rock country around Santa Fe.

After doing the four corners of my property, I stood on the deck as the sun rose behind me and sent messages to Alan and Ozzy, my dad and nephew.  I shed a tear, but more in gratitude that I loved them and have been blessed to know them in this lifetime.

Then I made my way inside where I cleansed every room, imagined the darkness being blown away by the smoke, to be replaced with light and joy.  I can still smell the faint whisper of the blend in the house.  It's calming and reassuring, familiar and warm.

When the ritual was finished, I honestly felt lighter, more accepting of things, and so utterly glad that I lived through yet another demonic April.  I'll still have moments of pain--only human after all--but now my sad, deep sighs will slowly turn into refreshing and hopeful deep breaths as the days pass.

It's all good.

Happy May Day, dear readers.  Blessings...

Two More Days

Lest you think, dear readers, that my fear and loathing of April is unfounded...

...besides the loss of Ozzy, and the four year anniversary of losing Alan, I also had to find Max a new home last week for reasons that are too complicated and painful for me to explain here.  Happily, he's been blessed with a great new family--who loved him on sight--especially the 12-year old boy. They bonded like only a boy and his dog can, which was heartwarming, but also heartbreaking (for me).

...I had to go back to the eye surgeon.  The inside corner of my right eyelid looks like I have a permanent sty.  It's an odd bump of skin that isn't going away like it should.  My left eye is perfect, the right looks like shit.  The doctor is making me wait for a few months before she fixes it because she's convinced it will go away over time.  Let me just say for the record:  I don't believe for a minute that it will go away and this is just postponing the inevitable.

...the dishwasher broke on Sunday.  Course, I can wash by hand, and did for all the years I lived in Edinburgh, but if I want to ever sell the house, I need functioning appliances.  I spent some time on the internet, pricing and whatnot, but holy crap, I don't want to fork out over $500 (and that's on sale), plus what it will cost to have it installed.  And there goes any hope of a holiday this year.

...Monday the tea kettle caught fire.  I got so used to an electric kettle whilst living abroad, that when we moved to the States, both Alan and I agreed that the first small appliance we purchased had to be the kettle. There isn't a great selection here--southern Oregon after all--but I eventually found a replacement yesterday.  Now I just have to scrub the scorch marks out of the grout on the kitchen counter.

...my gardener/helper guy fell off the wagon, just when I need him the most.  He hasn't shown up for two weeks now, the grass is knee-high across the road (which I have to maintain for fire regulations), as is the slope below the deer fence in the back garden. I either have to find someone else really quick, or go buy a 200-ft extension cord and an industrial weed whacker to do the job myself.

...took the Blazer in for his semi-annual fluids and oil change.  I expected an easy in-and-out, not much money spent to get serviced for the Summer.  You know where I'm going with this, right?  Uh huh. $250 later.  Does money grow on frigging trees?  If so, where can I find one?  I'll even settle for seeds...

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On Friday I'm doing a complete cleanse of the house, the gardens, the Blazer.  I'm overwhelmed by dark vibes, too many tears and the echoes from the empty spaces in my heart and spirit. It's time to move into the light...metaphorically.  I have several smudge sticks that I bought in New Mexico awhile back and once I decide which bundle will be the most effective, I'm going to get up early on
Friday morning, move through my personal landscapes with chants to the four directions...and begin the new month with a cleaner environment and--hopefully--a calmer spirit.

Suspiria de Profundis

Thought I was doing okay after climbing out of the Abyss several days ago, but I wasn't paying attention...and fell right into the Slough of Despond.

April.  How this month has tortured me over the years.  Pain and sorrow, death and destruction.  I mentioned to my sister I was going to shut myself up in a cryonic cylinder next year and spend the whole blasted thirty days in frozen, ignorant bliss. After some discussion, we decided--it being April and all--the odds were that the freezing process would probably fail and I would melt away like an ice cube.

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I could sense it coming for a while now, a knowing growing stronger as the weeks and months have sped by.  Lately, there's been an edge to my awareness, a shiver of unease that it's close, just over the horizon and any minute I'll be able to see it...

Over the weekend I realized that it's finally here, waiting over.  I am standing at the crossroads, without a single clue, idea or map to show me the way forward.

It's not the first time I've been here.  No, I've been here at least three times before in my life.  Once I made the biggest mistake ever, another time I made the best decision, and at one crossroad it made no difference which way I went.

But this time, my choice is important, perhaps even crucial.  I'm not twenty with decades to make mistakes and changes; not thirty with a bit of wisdom but not quite enough yet; not forty with old dreams lost and new ones found.  I stand at my present crossroads and hear the echoes of the past, the murmur of future journeys, but instead of feeling excited or joyful...I'm afraid.  What do I want? Where is my place in the world?  Which is the right path?

I have a long list of chores and house-related tasks that I need to take care of over the next few months. They should get me into September and with a wee bit of luck, lots of thinking and meditating, toss in an adventure or two...and I just might be able to figure this out.

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Suspiria de profundis: Sighs from the depths.  And doesn't that pretty much say it all...

View From A Wednesday

The weather has been typical April: schizo.  Sunday it was mid-80s and I sweltered in my tank top and hippy skirt; yesterday I woke up to snow in the mountains and wild storms all day.  I preferred the latter and am already dreading the onset of what is shaping up to be another long, hot Summer.

I've been on an epic purge around the house these past few weeks, going through all the cupboards, drawers, closets and bookshelves.  It will take me awhile to sort and sift, box and haul away, but I'm a graduate of the school that says if you don't need it/use it/haven't worn it in years, it's time to let go. It's a liberating process, though painful at times too.  I keep running across memories, then I have to stop, make tea or pour whiskey (depending on the memory) and escape into my books. It's good to pare down, get back to the basics, fine tune my world...then I'll be able to see where I stand at the end of it.

In light of epic Spring cleaning, working, reading and/or drinking whatever suits my mood, I don't have much to write about that even resembles interesting, so instead, I picked up my camera...

On the other side of those mountains is the Pacific Ocean, and what storms they must have had at the coast yesterday.  Black clouds rolled over the peaks in waves, followed by bursts of heat and sunshine, then more rain and winds, drenching the farms and vineyards in the valley below my house.

  
In the gloaming, heat and rain had mixed up a steamy mist that sparkled in the setting sun and although I couldn't get a good shot to show the refractions, my telephoto captured the trees that seemed to waver and warp in the eerie, sepia-colored light...

This afternoon I took a break from The Purge and went outside to see what needs to be done with plants and baskets and general garden maintenance.  One thing was made perfectly clear to me.  It's time to get more coconut liners for my hanging baskets...

Two weeks ago, this was a viable, functioning basket.  The birds are building their nests now, and I'm apparently the building supply store...

A plant I bought a few years ago at an Alpine Wildflower show.  It's been struggling on the back slope since I planted it; I figured the scorching Summer sun was too much and planned to move it. Good thing I held off. This year it's beautiful and covered in blossoms, drawing bees in abundance.

The deer have eaten most of my dogwood flowers, though they can't reach the top of the tree so at least I have these beauties to admire from my living room windows.  The tree looks really goofy, like a bad Mohawk.  Ah well, even though there aren't many left, the cheerful pink blooms are lovely to see...

Okay, peeps, it's time for the hike to the mailbox.  The sun is out, wind is brisk...perfect for head clearing, then I'm going to have a nice, cold glass of wine while I try to make sense of the mess I'm making all over the house.  Or maybe I'll just drink the wine and forget the whole making sense part...

Kindness

I want to thank everyone who commented, phoned, emailed or knocked on my door, for your kind and compassionate words about Ozzy.  Sometimes grief can be so isolating, making misery and pain the only companions in the quiet, echoing silence.  It's helped me immeasurably to hear from all of you, dear readers, friends and family.

Ozzy was the last link to my life in Scotland.  Over this past week I've been mired in memories of Edinburgh, Alan, Ozzy and all the adventures shared between the three of us.  I mourn the loss of the two guys who meant the most to me, and also the country that became my home. A triple whammy, really, that left such a deep, gaping hole, I could swear I heard the wind whistling around the broken corners of my heart when I tried to sleep at night.

But then, in one of those inexplicable and mysterious moments, I had a dream.  Alan was walking across emerald green grass, Ozzy running and bouncing at his side, happy in the bright sunshine. Neither turned to look back at me and I wanted to call out, but then I realized it was okay, I'd been given a gift, to know they were together.

My dream was probably no more than wishful thinking, a trick of the mind to give me a sense of peace...although I choose to think otherwise.

Good Night, Sweet Boy

Ozzy
January 27, 2003 - April 3, 2015

I have no words.

Easter Egg Cookies

Now, here's a curious thing.  Why is it the Easter Bunny, but we decorate and fill baskets with eggs? Shouldn't it be the Easter Chicken?

I sent my mother an Easter basket the other day.  It was really a box filled with treats and surprises nestled in a bed of colorful Easter grass.  It was fun to put together and she said it was really fun to open and dig around in the "basket" to find all her goodies.

A few weeks ago, whilst looking for things to put in her box, I found a cookie mix from Charm City Cakes, Duff Goldman's bakery.  He had a show on TLC called Ace of Cakes, and has done several things for the Food Network channel.  I always like to watch him, he's funny and clever and very, very talented, so I not only bought Mom the mix, but got one for myself too.

I've never made cookies from a box, but because it's Duff, I decided to give it a try.

After mixing the dough, it was divided into four balls, and food coloring added in precise drops to make the beautiful layers...

Kneading the colors into each ball was easy, though I have bits of purple between my fingers that I can't get off.  It was such a gorgeous color, I was almost tempted to leave it all swirly and irregular. After the colors were blended, I had to roll them into four long ropes, cut egg-shaped wedges and bake...

And how cool is this?  Easter Egg Cookies....

They were a little bit fiddly, but nothing too complicated or mind-numbing.  And the best part? They're crisp, delicious sugar cookies that will be just right to share with my neighbor...though tasty enough to eat all by myself.

Which would make me the Easter Piglet and I think we have enough poultry/animal confusion going on already...

Remember Me...??

I've spent the last several days doing all the stuff that I put off or couldn't do while recuperating from the eyelid ordeal.  Two weeks of backlog meant that I had my hands full playing catch up and running errands and doing a multitude of house and garden chores.  I did manage to squeak in a bit of writing, some photography, and reading a novella--didn't have time for a whole book--and now I'm pretty much back on track.  Though...chores are like pulling weeds: they always come back.

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The weather has been hot and weird, which is becoming less strange and more common.  Over the weekend it got up to 83* and yesterday was warm enough to make my first pitcher of sun tea.  I don't usually get to savor my first batch until May or June, but on March 30th, I brewed a perfect blend.  I love sun tea.  However, I'd trade the tea for a long stretch of crap weather.

And speaking of...today it's raining like crazy, storms coming in waves, rolling down the mountains and across the valley, all black and fierce, as the winds whip the trees and scatter the new blossoms like confetti.  There are long periods of rain, followed by blue skies, then the next wave rises and it begins all over again.  The drama is a precursor to the schizophrenia of April and I'm loving it.

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I'm adding a new breathing technique to my yoga and meditations: Agni Prasana, or Breath of Fire. Years ago, back when I first became Buddhist and began meditating, it took awhile to learn how to breathe correctly--the opposite of regular breathing.  So the other day, deciding to incorporate some new yoga movements into my workout, I was intrigued to find two of them are done with Breath of Fire, something I was not familiar with.  It's a cleansing and energizing Breath that works for both meditation and yoga, and I couldn't wait to learn how to do it.

If you're interested:  Sit with your spine straight, head relaxed on your neck and breathe like a dog panting, equal breaths in and out, with your mouth closed. Take small, shallow breaths, like you're sniffing the air.  Don't breathe deep, your chest should barely rise and fall.  Five minutes a day to clear your mind, energize your body.

There are three levels to Breath of Fire.  The beginner's level is the one above.  Intermediate is faster, deeper breaths, and advanced is really vigorous.  At this point, I would pass out doing the advanced level, so I'll have to work up to it or spend my meditation time unconscious.  Some days that's not a bad idea...

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So far today I've walked the boys at the park, been to the vet's for more of Ozzy's meds, went grocery shopping, got my hair cut, gave a list of treats I want to my neighbor, the Englishman, who is off to London on Friday, did the laundry, made the coolest Easter cookies (tomorrow's post) and now I'm finally going to sit down and watch The Hobbit, Battle of the Five Armies, which was on sale at the store.

Last day of March, peeps.  Wine is in order, I think...