Getting Ready for Winter

It was a day outside  

to fight against the wind and cold.

To be enveloped 

in layers of clothes and gloved hands.

To rake leaves

mow the lawn

and prune branches.

We stood there

hand-in-hand

taking in the result.

The yard was now ready to hunker down for winter.

***   ***   ***

My work outside acted as a therapy of sorts as I let my mind drift to my spiritual landscape. I acknowledged the many different climate changes that are occurring and frontal boundaries that are blowing their way in and around my definition of a normal life and status quo. 

I am left to ponder ...

Do I have enough faith to hunker down for the season I just entered?

A Penny Found

There are those blogs that capture your attention quickly and move you to take a moment to revel in the creativity of not only the author, but those who leave comments.  

I stumbled across a blog just like that.  It's unique and fun and provides this aspiring writer with many ideas.  

Check out Pictures, Poetry & Prose.  I think you might like it!

Enjoy the post I left yesterday on that very blog...

He stooped down to pick up the lone coin from the concrete sidewalk. Most people were too busy to notice that it had landed on the ground, let alone stop to pick it up. 

But, he wasn't so busy. Not anymore. He had the time to take a slower pace now and allow the details of life to infiltrate his being.

He surveyed the coin that rested in his gloved hand, fighting back the wind as he noted the dings, scratches and rubbed surfaces that a hard life can produce. He smiled. Much like him, the coin was well worn.

He moved the coin closer to his face so that he could eye the date imprinted on it.

Ahh, he nodded. 1972. Now that was a good year!

He gingerly placed the coin in his pocket and began to walk again. The same route he took almost every day. As he passed that house, he remembered years ago when he bounded up the steps with a tiny ring in his pocket where the lone coin now lay. That was the day he asked for her hand in marriage. And, she said yes.

Ahh, he nodded. 1972. Now that was a good year!

He didn't linger for long at that house on this trip. He needed to get back home. Back to her. She needed him now more than ever. The doctor said it would only be a few more days. 

He hurried now because he couldn't wait to tell her the story. He knew she would marvel at how he found the lost coin and the significance of finding the one imprinted with the year they got married.

He walked in the house, shed his outer garments and made his way to her bedside. As she slept, he laid the coin on her nightstand and whispered, "Pennies aren't just for wishes and 1972 wasn't the only year I loved you. With this penny, I wish you peace, my love. Sleep well and dream of 1972."

Can You Even This Out? (revisited)

I had pondered my hairstyle for some time and then one day decided I needed something fresh. I wanted to toss my classic shoulder-length locks for something fun and more modern.  A little edgier and sexier, perhaps. I chose a famous Meg Ryan look and decided my hair would probably fall into the cut naturally without too much effort.  

I headed to my hairdresser of six years, armed with the photo in tow of how I wanted to be transformed, and we embarked on a discussion of the look.  Yes, I was assured, the cut would be fantastic for my hair type and it would give me a more current, fashionable look.  

Scissors in hand, she went to work. She kept my back to the mirror the whole time so that I wouldn't grab a sneak peek at her work...the move that I'm known for in the salon.  As she went about snipping and razoring, I anticipated the reflection of the new and improved me and could hardly contain myself.  I was ready for the change.

Finally, she finished and I had endured the  3 hour process:  condition treatment, highlights, cut. She wheeled me around slowly so that I could face the mirror and ooh and aaahh over the new me.  

Instead, I let out a small yelp as I brought my hand over my mouth to squelch any more noise from coming out.

Horrified.  Aghast.  

Somehow I managed to collect myself in an instant so that I wouldn't garner any more attention.  I needed to get out of there fast before I broke down crying and/or started yelling at my stylist for the disaster that now sat atop my head.

I can't remember the exact words or gestures that I used past that point but I made my way to the car ultra fast and slumped into my seat.  I turned on the ignition, fastened my seat belt in a blur of angst and looked in the rear view mirror to make sure it was true.  My hair really was not the edgy cut that I anticipated but was a semi-half-mullet throwback from the '80s.  My mood neared frantic frenzy as I made my way home in a fit of tears.

***   ***   ***   ***   

It's been almost a week since that day and many times I have debated cutting it shorter.  I have played the scenario in my head; perhaps even walking into another salon to ask, "Can You Even This Out?"

But, for fear of a repeat performance, I have chosen not to.  

Grow, hair, grow.

Thoughtful Tuesday

"Do you choose change?  Do you choose health? Do you choose happiness?  Do you choose strength?  Do you choose that?  Do it now.

You can tell me that you choose not to.  You can tell me that you choose to quit. That you choose to be less than what you are or what God intended you to be but don't tell me that you can't do it."

 - Jillian Michaels on The Biggest Loser

Decisions

Toss.  Turn.  Toss again. 

Sigh.

Toss.  Turn.  Toss again.

***   ***   ***   *** 

Most decisions aren't this hard.

Chocolate anyone?

The Letter

The letter, unassuming yet somehow alarming, came in the mail yesterday. I stared at the return address that was clearly imprinted on the upper right hand corner of the envelope but I didn't want to open it.

Delayed by the uncertainty of the contents, minutes passed before I had built up the courage to unveil its contents.  I convinced myself that it was probably nothing.  A new fundraising effort or an anticipated change to one of the events.

I calmed down.  Of course, that was all that was in there!

...rip... tear... unfold...

"The purpose of this letter is to inform you of the requirements for graduation and to review with you the following information regarding your student's current status."

Ahem, what??

"Our records indicate that your student is planning to graduate in 2010 with an Advanced Studies Diploma."

Now, wait just a minute.  He doesn't graduate until....

"Oh, my gosh," I screamed out loud and it echoed and reverberated in my empty house.  Heat quickly rose to my cheeks while my heart started thumping somewhere in the vicinity of my ears.

In shock, I slid down to the floor.  

Is it really true that my baby has started the exit process out of high school? 

Oh.

Intelligent Design

Every now and again Mr. Smart Guy reels me in to an adventure of learning that I didn't anticipate but that allows me to expand my intellectual horizon beyond what I would normally choose.  Last week was definitely one of those times.  He came home from the local bookstore with a new find that had him beaming from ear to ear.  

"I bought a really great movie for us to watch after dinner.  I think you'll like it because I've heard really good things about it."

(please stop to note: Mr. Smart Guy enjoys movies.  Any genre, any movie, even poorly done movies that most people deem ridiculous.  He loves movies.)

I glanced at my friend, who was over for dinner, trying to apologize with my eyes via the kind of look that conveys, "Oh, no!  This might get super ugly.  Feel free to run out the door if you want to, but wait, on second thought, run now!"

We made our way through dinner but it was obvious Mr. Smart Guy was tearing through his food and sprinting to finish his plate off so we could get to the movie.  The doorbell rang and it was another one of our friends.  Mr. Smart Guy invited him over to watch it, too.

(please stop to note:  this duo is known for their conspiracy theory extravaganzas that last until the wee hours of the morning.)

Now, my senses picked up on something.  I ventured to find out more.

"Are you sure this is a movie, movie? One with a story and everything?" I asked hesitantly.

Mr. Smart Guy was at the dvd player inserting the golden cd as he shook his head up and down vigorously affirming that it truly was a movie.  Everyone claimed their spot in the living room to get comfy in, the house lights went down and the opening credits rolled.  

It caught me off guard.  

I wasn't aware that the scientific community no longer embraced or allowed discussions of Intelligent Design as a possible option to explain our earthly existence. I was shocked that pro Intelligent Design scientists have suffered and are suffering devastating career repercussions for their choice.  Their choice to believe that the earth and everything in it was created by an Intelligent Designer.

Appalled.