Cravings

Something of a memory. Narvick Odyssey. Brown eyes, very different brown. What's your name? He tells me. Sorry, I didn't catch that (I did too hear him) what did you say your name was? Narvick? I said it in my head 5/6 times, it was hard to plant. Different..What's your middle name? Odyssey. HA. OK. Narvick Odyssey like so your last name is like Smith, right? I started to giggle in my dream and woke up. I thought the name several times so I might remember it in full awake mode. How can this come to a mind?? I was looking into those eyes when I asked his name. So I had to ask twice and watch his lips in order to pay attention. I can't explain this color of brown, it was beautiful, a light bought from outside, through his, into mine for a price but they also looked a bit familiar for some other reason, so Narvick Odyssey { ? } it is.




In the morning when we rise....that's the time I love the best of the sparkling green corn, Donovan. Green is my very favorite, color. Not the kind of green babies make. Hunter, British Racing, Forest greens and anything emerald set in gold. My Dad asked me if I liked diamonds and I said I thought emeralds were prettier. I got diamond earrings for my 16th birthday with an apology that he had no idea the outrageous value of emeralds. I of course absolutely love my first diamonds. I had no idea about emeralds............they were green, that's all. Now green is slathered all over the face of the universe. Well it was MY color first. I hope it does not become a bore. Yes, you're right it isn't my shade is it? Very well, carry on.





A Coral Rose. The very best color after green, is coral. I left this behind when I ran. So many stories of this calm, quiet, coral rose... in another place and time. She does grace to a blue sky and rises to do portrait for a pure white wall, then quietly stills beside a flaming red. I have craved to see and touch this again. I have needed and denied a rose for so long...ALMOST did one last year, got so close but then I would have had to choose a color. This year has tugged and pulled and grabbed and once again I almost picked one to bring home. What color? All the while, ever disappointed. Until today. I've been found.

Something about Someone.

I love this forum. I love these people. Rare, but sometimes I am thoroughly irritated. Sometimes it is more important to read than it is to write. I just got here, so to speak, and I had to read all of Curmudgeonly Lola. I cry, I laugh, I pull my hair. There's a little girl in Gainesville that chases alligators and I want to put her in time out. I'm calling her Mother. The Monkeys, Willow, how am I supposed to share? Who are you? The other day 'my friend' said....wait, this woman I know. Um, a blogger said----oh that is so not right. A blogger?? I read this blog and it said?? I am amazed, I am envious. I am so grateful. I want to pack up and sail around the world. I want to live in Malta and do Malaysian, Shrimp & Petroleum. I AM INSPIRED! So now I am on the hunt. I have a mission. I will read as much of all the blogs I know now, to try to get caught up and note who you love to read. You are my book. Who are you?

So the inspiration part is starting to ripple. I had to clean my desk yesterday. I was supposed to clean my desk yesterday.

Can't play today.

I have to clean my room.

Well of course I'm disappointed. We got presents and they are little. I wanted BIG Ones. They also looked a little bit tired, somewhat worse for the wear. "I will hug them and pet them and squeeze them and call them George" We will document together the progress of all our new little Georges. I will take pictures of my motley crew today or tomorrow (or Saturday). Ok, maybe I should just go do that right now so I can show you some magic. Wow, I'm getting cocky. What if they don't grow? What if.......hmmm. I don't make promises. Never. I will make a statement to "try" but never a promise. I believe it can rock the boat and afford you a slap down. My answer for all of that is...If I make a promise, then I will get a flat tire. Not in my control is perfectly understandable to intelligence but what happens to a very bright and understanding 6 year old that thought she was going to Disneyland? They promised. Well ya know what? They got a flat tire. It is just no fun at all to suffer our disappointments no matter what size they are. When we are small size the disappointments should be too, as much as is humanly possible for a parent to manage. Lots of time to get it socked to you. Plenty.

I think a day or four to acclimate from their journey and some recovery time from buried in the ghost turds is a very good idea .

I am so excited. There are plants I ordered at the Post Office and I'm out the door to rescue them. YAY!

In the sky, there is no distinction of east and west; people create distinctions out of their own minds and then believe them to be true. BUDDHA

I like to play a game. Out of my mind and body. I will stand beside myself in a group of.....everybody talking all at once, and hear everything. A fleeting catch of the eye, a demur nod of the head, a slight smile or even a guffaw can allow you to have a complete conversation with many all at once and at the same time. Without saying a word. It is music. I love to listen.

Man is inherently evil. My Father said this to me when I was 15. He also told me he was an atheist. (in a minute but hafta say right now, this was horse hockey and STILL causes me to snorkel) Both of these statements brought hours of conversation between us that ultimately created the necessity for mediation. Mom. I won the evil man debate. People are not evil by habit or nature, yes people do bad things. Dad and I got through this one pretty slick. I defended humanity, I disagreed with my parent AND SAID SO.......but, but, I had a seed, a beautiful small seed that grew a gut. This lesson was a Father's armor for his daughter. I trust my gut. My Father won, didn't he? My Father the atheist? OH my gawd! Well first I say, "What's an atheist?" This I hear after I have been on retreat. My poor Dad, wondering what on earth have they pounded into this child's head? So it began. Now I must disclose there was no conversation of Jesus. Say what you must, not open to conversation but yes you are welcome, speak. We did Jesus later. We were after the pure creator. Faith. Where do you get that, where does it come from, how does it work? My Father's disclosure did not horrify me. It completely baffled me. I knew he was not speaking the truth.....but he believed himself. So we argued. I raised my voice, at my Father. My Dad was wrong. I was growing a gut you see so some things were not so fuzzy. After much heated (I was hot) discord, Mucho hot.....So what if we were single celled in the beginning? A slimy ooey gooey green thing slithers onto the yucky crusty dirt, takes it's first breath of air after a rancid mucky burp of fetid water. (omg had way too much fun with that) God did that Daddy. God created. There is, right now, a God. However you color it, whatever you call it. My Father finally conceded to, "OK, maybe I'm an agnostic". Well what the hell was that? Now I'm scared and horrified. This had to be worse. OH.. Oh, ok. My Father sits on a fence. This I can handle, this paints a funny picture in my head and this is still not the truth. BUT THAT'S OK because now, from a seed....green, soft, swaying in the winds, a sapling. My backbone. I allowed my Father his fence for a very long time. He was happy sitting right there and I still knew the truth about him. I went on another retreat. Then I started going to church every Sunday, with my friends. Catholics I was a little bit familiar with, well the up and down stuff because I was 5 and went with my Aunt Vicki in Guam. Lutheran, Protestants, Baptist, Methodist, can you imagine having a friend in high school asking if you went to church and then asking to go with you this Sunday? When my best friend got his license we went to a different church every Sunday for long enough. I learned many things. Finally later (years) my Father tells me. My Dad said he had an old medicine man that he communed with. This Old Medicine Man watched out for, protected, listened and every once in awhile gave him what for. See my face, see my eyes as I listen to my Daddy. Ask my Mom if she is a christian........she says, "No, I'm a Methodist" I had no idea how to get into that one????


"The garden is not for us, we are for the garden" ....you can quote me.

Now when you elect me Empress, my first order of business is to outlaw pantyhose. Then heaven help us.

Just as a candle cannot burn without fire, men cannot live without a spiritual life. BUDDHA

When Pigs Fly!

Today Well Lived, Makes Yesterday a Dream of Happiness and Tomorrow, a Vision of Hope. I have no idea who said so but this sits on my desk in a small frame and cheers me. A gift from a friend out of the blue. Gift out of the blue not the friend although that would be charming. It would be nice if all our yesterdays were happy. Oh wait, I read that book, didn't turn out too cool. Do we make our own or does it just come to us? Are we allowed at the expense of another? Are some more deserving than others?




One day, if we took one day and did not do one bad thing, ALL OVER THE WORLD, not even the slightest bad thing. What would that look like? Always forever the hope.




I also have this sticker sitting on my desk that makes me giggle. I have always said, if that were the case we would all have bigger umbrellas.

I've been reading

Gustave Klimt's "Mother and Child from The Three Ages of Women," detail, 1905

So if someone is being obnoxious do you let them know? Because they couldn't possible want to be obnoxious on purpose, would they? Where have all the rules gone? Like the Golden Rule. My Mom's rule, which was probably Eleanor Roosevelt's, "if you can't say anything nice about someone....don't say anything at all." So, if you can't figure out something innocuous to discuss...pick a subject that just allows you to be a talented babbler, which is what you are good at. Don't throw rocks, run with scissors, climb too high, touch anything hot, call names, play with fire, drink anti-freeze, run your mouth, or raise your children to be like you if you are obnoxious. So do I let them know? Continue to point out the negative in all around you, so you can............what? Let us know, any ol time you feel like it, how great you are? OK, I'll go with the flow. I will continue to read the fodder blogs only because I want to witness to, sometimes you are mean with the rules and... OH MY GOSH, I'm great too, only nicer.





OK, OK, I took a pill. I'm sorry. I never mean to hurt any ones feelings but sometimes, I just run my mouth. This is a wonderful forum and I love it. I do also now realize that an insipid blogger is given amazing beautiful balance because of followers that comment with grace and an occasional polite 'excuse me?' I'm not obnoxious or innocuous or insipid, am I? I try not to judge so stop saying unkind things about people. We can't all be as good as you.




One of the fundamental accomplishments in life is to develop a sense of self. So there is a poetic justice to the recent findings of David Kahn, Ph.D.: Those who live long enough get to partake of a last stage in adult development-deconstruction of the self.

At once the most subtle and the most striking aspect of the deconstruction of the self, Kahn found, is "a stepping away from time." These people assumed a different orientation to time. They no longer paid attention to things that change in the world, such as technological advances. They wore no watches. The markers of time they did use were different; Wednesday was not "Wednesday" but "bingo day." Friday was not "Friday" but "bath day."

It was obvious to most that they had passed through some change in self. But they were not grieving. They were waiting. "They had no emotional attachment to time or death," reports Kahn, who found himself "surprised by the elegance of how they were able to say things." And saying things-talking about themselves--was one of the few ways they still found meaning in life.

.................................MOTHER AND CHILD

Arbor Day

Since it's founding in 1872 this day has been the last Friday in April. That's tomorrow for us this year nationally but it was also mentioned that every state has their own Arbor Day. Wednesday we planted a tree/bush/weed, yay for Earth Day. 20 million people celebrated the first Arbor day in 1970. How do they know that? 20 million? Earth Day must bring bazillions to the party. So I guess we can plant the poinsettia tomorrow? Yes from Christmas. I do this every year and this year this sweet plant has been healthy and happy and oh so patient. I've done this all backwards haven't I? The Rose of Sharon should have gone in the ground tomorrow and the poinsettia yesterday. It's all ok, we planted a real tree, a Bradford Pear, on 4/11/09 for my Mom so all the rest is icing. Call off the dogs.

Iron Overdose

I have a Marilyn Monroe bathroom. C'est tres chic. It is just really only cute. I'm wanting to put up a new shower curtain in her bathroom. The existing one is C-through and provides great bright light so you just don't feel so squashed in. If I use the new one, Marilyn will be in Paris and it may bring some gloom. The colors are nice and now I will want a claw-foot tub. NOT. I got over that eons ago...sorta. Which brings me smack dab up to the next part of my project that I am going to object to VEHEMENTLY, which I can't even say without spitting and that's how mad I am. The Iron. I have to find it. The last time I used it was at Christmas time on the tablecloth and that's only because squirting at the wrinkles and dryer tumbling failed. It's in the shed in a box with decorations? Oh jeez/louise, could be. I have to iron the shower curtain. Seriously. I'll bet some one out there doesn't even own one. My daughter asked me a long time ago what that thing was up against the door. What's an iron?? Long enough ago that it probably looked like the ones you set on the stove. I smiled so big, I was so tickled.

So let's check out the Marilyn Bathroom. A towel draped over the gown quotes "Ever notice that 'what the hell' is always the right decision?" There is a clock on the counter, pink, designer, dated, twirly thing A beautiful gift. I broke the globe cleaning it so the yucky glued part goes in the back. And so yes to be true, I do have a claw foot tub (forgot that). It's white with black spots like a cow. You can see just a smidgen of it beside the clock and it holds tissues, just splayed out in it. I had no other idea what to use it for...more beauty gifts...There is a beautiful framed print in the shower of her with a towel pressed up against her neck and shoulder, like she just got out of the shower. There is a collectors plate on the side wall, not pictured and a calendar behind the door. The calendar used to demand a major scouting expedition every year. We finally have that dialed-in. All those little prints (9 total) are from, THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET engraved by W.B. Closson. Well, I guess we are going to see how well Marilyn enjoys Paris...... as soon as the Iron is unearthed.

Slave Labor

Muhlenbergia capillaris

I did not want my horoscope for today. I had melancholy yesterday afternoon and wasn't convinced I should be pert so quick. Seemed unconscionable. My mention of losing Marian was quick and flip, meant to belittle my sorrow. I received an e-mail from her son in Ontario letting me know his mom was gone. I wanted to cry so hard it caused amnesia. My Mom is gone and now Marian is gone. It all happened too fast. They were neighbors in Livingston, Texas and I want them back.

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April 21, 2009 Daily Aquarius horoscope:
Today is a fantastic day for you, dear Aquarius, so enjoy yourself fully. Your emotions will be stable, and you will find that you have a very expansive sense of well-being. Your self-confidence is strong and you should use this to your advantage. This energy may be subtle, but if you tune in to it early in the day and set a plan for what you want to get accomplished, you will find that you can be quite productive.

I had an appointment to get my hair cut this morning...so I went. The usual joy of pampering was wasted on me. The last time I got my hair cut was designed to lift my spirits and to put an end to my self-punishment. It was spur of the moment, walk-in.. and worked wonders until.... I walked into the house and wanted to show my Mom how cute my hairs were. She wasn't here. I miss her so much.

Hi Mom, what are you doing? AARRGGHH!! Slave Labor. She was washing her husbands clothes.
I did laundry all afternoon. Laundry I was supposed to get done on Friday or Sunday or Monday. Now all washed away.

Mr Frank and I are going out to dinner tonight. I'm cute with short hair and I'm hungry

Blowin in the wind

Mondays are my favorite day of the week. I'd like to believe that I have an innate propensity for all things of good beginnings so I should pile Mondays with great expectations. I choose to take that day that creates moans and groans and whining from most of humanity and make it positive. Ready...? Set.... Go..!
Without a Monday I would never get a Sunday, the very best day of the weekend. Sundays are pajama days, football games (I wish mightily the season would, oh please, be ever so much longer) and a pedicure. Sprawled all over the living room floor with chips n dip and too many colors of polish to be able make a decision, I turn to the trusted polish authority. I make Mr. Frank choose. I have to sneak off to the toe parlour every once in a while for oranges because Mr. Frank is not very found of them.
The 2009 schedule of NFL games has been released and Mr. Madden is leaving me. I was shocked. Just have to wait until all the way to August for the games to begin without him and I am sad. Chargers are my heart, Green Bay has my school colors, I have a crush on Dan Marino, the Saints were the biggest underdog for awhile so I cheered with all my might for them (poor babies) and everybody loves to hate the Raiders. I grew up on the west coast and have to confess, game times suck on the east coast. I say so every year.

the answers my friend,
Wow! Sucks. Marian is gone, left me too. la la de de la la. Tonic and gin but actually I think she tolerated vodka and a lemony/limeony soda thing with her next door neighbor in a park in Texas to jut a moment in time with some football.

Cotton Candy

It's 2am and you are on an exotic mood lit path on the grounds of a brand new luxury hotel on Maui. You can hear the ocean waves crashing onto the shoreline and there is of course, the most intoxicating sea breeze. Everything green is swaying and you speak in hushed voices with your companions. Hushed because it's pure tropical magic. Hushed because you want to hear all the noises of the dark. Hushed because you do not want to be discovered by the powers that be or the lionsandtigersandbears. You round a clump of tallest palms ever with tiny lights shooting up into them, magic lights. Walking with your eyes to the sky as the light dances all through the billowing palm fronds. We know we are off the path and in the grass because we are barefoot. Giggles, squeals and long-jumped back onto our safe concrete road to adventure we notice a vast rolling landscape. Clear for miles but for the crop of cotton candy. What is that Mommy? That's how cotton candy grows. Pineapple, sugarcane and cotton candy, all in the Hawaiian Islands, of course. Magic. Cotton Candy stalks are 13 feet tall with a 2ft by 5ft sphere atop. The oldest asks to touch it. I grant my permission. I cannot leave the baby on the path alone but all knowing all powerful Mom Force can supervise the journey of the older child. She approaches very quietly as I have instructed (2nd mistake). Within only 2 more very tiny cautious steps of a 9 year old, the cotton candy lifts a 7 ft long rope like plume off it's top. .
Then a 12x4 ft feathery appendage fans out...HUGE... and then another stick shoots to the ground...and then the last 12x4 ft feathery appendage spreads out. The child did not utter a sound. I wish with all my heart I could have seen her face and read the Flamingos thoughts. They were both so amazing. The bird tucked its wings down and turned around and walked away. The child turned around and STOMPED all the way back to the path (conversation details another day). 10 minutes later back on the path all safe and sound returning to civilization, a pretty sweet tiny tree frog hops onto our path right there in front of us stopping us dead in our tracks. Tiny-Cute-Frog. My daughter lost it. IT WAS THE CAP! She stood there statued to the cement screaming at the top of her lungs.

It's Nine O'clock on a Saturday

Somewhere there is a mower buzz, sometimes two at a time. There is a polite quiet suspense to Saturday mornings. Who will begin first? I believe the law allows 8 o'clock but praise the sanity of my neighborhood because no one has ever been so pompous. Miss Dottie started today on our left. Sweet Jason has a new wife and a newer baby, on our right. I doubt we see him this morning. Sweet Jason also has a riding mower, a green one. The green ones are highly prized, I have surmised. Mr. Frank is outside now buzzing away in our yard with some sort of red one that you more OR less chase. Sweet Jason and Mr. Frank used to coordinate their buzzing on Tuesdays after work but it is early in the season and only the second mowing of spring. It's cool with a breeze. Anxious, chomping at the bit, enthusiastic exuberance. Sweet Jason used to mow with Eli the passenger until Eli the passenger received his own 4-wheeled battery powered little buzzy thing. Great fun to watch the two of them. Next we await the new passenger, Charlie.

Pandora

Do you know Pandora? http://www.pandora.com/. I've subscribed. Not because it offers uninterrupted music or forgoes the ads but because I wanted to support their service. Sitting at my desk and listening to 'my' Craig Chaquico radio or any one of many created is so awesome. No subscription required, hugely recommended, do try. The 2009 Jazz Cruise is 75% full and I had all of yesterday to book with complimentary travel insurance. I do remember looking into the Jazz Cruise information after I heard that the one for 2008 with Kenny G was setting sail. That November sail date even if offered was to be missed anyway. We had cruise tickets for Haiti on Thanksgiving with turkey and all the cruise trimmings. I thought I might have some misgivings about Haiti, hearing about the unrest and poverty. All for naught. Labadee is a virtually gated peninsula operated by the cruise line. One big happy family fun picnic. I may have to stick to discounted cruise offers, the Jazz Cruise is a bit pricey. Maybe I can check out any last minute screaming deals??? Probably not.
Craving Cruising.
Never with a book. I'm hoping to sight a whale or spy a submarine. Perhaps some thought needs to be expended on this years destination...

Oh yeah and maybe a down payment for a reservation?

Austin

He is so loved but omg he is a meany butt. Teased as a tiny kitten and taken away from his brothers and sisters way too early. He gets a nasty attitude mach 7 and bites. Not knowing that biting hurts he goes to the bone. OK, well that was at one time the case. I thought I would have to wait for all his teeth to fall out before I got my sweet lovey cat. When he was little, the second you raised your hand over his head, (TO PET HIM) he would get his shot in first. Wrapping his wiggly soft body around your arm and chomping clawing away until you pealed him off. My Father thought this was very entertaining until he started to put the pounds on. He was disciplined properly for all his crimes but as soon as my Dad said a harsh word or swatted at him he would feel so bad that the cute itty bitty kitty was snuck a cookie (kitty treat) and scooped up for cuddles. I vaguely recall this was my Fathers approach with his children too. I will share the famous spanking event another time. My Dad got him in 2001 and named him Bozo. My Mother insisted the cat was his, lock, stock and potty pan. All went famously well in the house with the wretched cat from an alley in hell until my Dad started to make noises about how much I loved the cat and the cat loved me. I kept refusing, thinking it would break my Dad's heart. My Mom finally convinced me he really couldn't handle him anymore and truly did want me to have him. Their next trip to Florida from Texas was to deliver the precious cat cargo. I named him Austin and my Dad said he responded to it because it sounds close enough to little asshole....yes, a term of endearment. I can pet him now, he tolerates 3 swipes and then lays his ears back. The first time he got in my lap made me laugh. We both looked at each other and then he got down. He looked like, "holy guacamole" what am I doing up here? He has softened up tons, really.

Michael Parkes

We are not in Kansas anymore. I wish I could find the one I have that hangs in my living room to share with you. I remember the frustrations with paint by number kits from another lifetime ago. I also revel in the memories of pure joy as I mastered finger painting. Something I immediately embraced from school and then of course insisted be incorporated into the next biggest mess that could be made in my Mothers kitchen. I was going to be an artist. Dashed again, the dreams of a 4 year old, because I was living on Guam and there were way too many more urgent tasks to attend to, outside. Mango trees to climb, swing sets to scale, acres and acres of grass lands to explore (yards with no fences) and plenty of pals to romp around with. We were a gang of running, screaming, shirtless mates who were very busy saving the planet. My Mom tells me I refused to wear a shirt, outside to play, the entire time we lived there. On an island in paradise, shirtless was the rule, pretty sure. None of the boys wore shirts................oh I see, that would be me making new rules. The noisiest place in all the whole wide world was my haven from the storms.....a Quonset Hut. I believe that is why to this day I lust for a tin roof.
http://www.theworldofmichaelparkes.com/html/home.asp

Phaedra Rae

This is a wonderful way to start my afternoon. I quit my job two weeks ago. A very cute doctor removed my appendix last month while I was supposed to be playing with Phaedra and what does STAT mean? I'm out the door headed for the tax man feeling like that rabbit racing for the hole. Racing for that hole and knowing the only objective is to begin the adventure. Did 2008 present itself with a nasty hairdo and a meaner attitude than necessary for some of you too? I'm so relieved to be clear of my very prickly star chart. Blame the heavens, chastise the gods. Yes, never mind, it's 2009. Lofty aspirations that I'm ready to embrace. So what if it's already April? I'm a slow starter, I procrastinate, I'm nurturing my inspirations, I'm.....a whale of a tall tale teller. You can already tell, can't you? Phaedra lives in California and I am in Florida. My Grandbaby. Do you think she wants to say something or wants to hear something?

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