Gifts

Each time I ride my bike I stumble upon these amazing little moments that take up residence in my spirit.  They are moments that I would not have seen in my car, thrilling and deceivingly minute happenings that completely consume me.

I have seen the fragile shells of birds with holes created by the urgency of life, the bright flash of eyes in the shrubbery when the earth is dark and still.  Once, I saw a brilliant leaf hover above the sidewalk like a tiny spaceship before it lifted and whirled into a dragonfly.  

Often, I take my humanness and capture these gifts with language.  But what I carry with me through the day isn’t anything I can ever humanize. 

Haute Construction Worker

This is a meal I like to call The Haute Construction Worker:



It's a bologna frisée sandwich on 12 grain bread and a glass of banana milk on ice.  It is crucial that the milk is in a glass (the fancier the better) and the sandwich is on a napkin.

Since we last spoke

We moved our kitchen to the back of the house.  When we walked in the front the old kitchen was immediately to the left.

This was our old kitchen 

Tearing it down

Gone

These 3 pictures are of the back room, which used to be a second living room and is now where the new kitchen is.

This is our living room.  We gutted it as well and added new insulation, an extra built-in, and new fireplace surround

We decided to carry the wood floors throughout.  So we hired someone to stitch them together.

For the finishes we went with a stained maple, white Silestone and a wall color called "Cavern."  We also found handles that matched the shape of our appliances.  We also decided to put built-ins in the spot where the old kitchen was.

Done!

We also said goodbye to the pond

I left Gift of Life, but only as a paid employee ; )

Robert put in a sprinkler system – all by himself!

We did a little bit of caving

And said goodbye to Madeline's son, Jeff 

and Robert's uncle, Rodney

We also said goodbye to my Toyota Matrix and my collection of fortune cookie slips

We visited the birthplace of Robert’s grandfather, Sam

I put up a fantastic Poetry display, which I’m doing again in just a few days

 I’ve been playing a lot of tennis, and was fined for bringing my dogs with me.  Well, mostly I was fined for asking the officer if she needed a hug.

Speaking of Ella and Rose - Rose is still keeping the Earth from floating away

And Ezza Bezza has been playing a lot of ball

I have been painting quite a bit

Scott left Noble Hops and is much happier

Mom and Grandma nested in Oro Valley

Jason and Spanky moved and from what I've heard, are watching too much Duck Dynasty.

Dad is, as always, the master of lines and puns.  

And Rusty is engaged to Heather.  They are expecting a tater tot soon.

GLORIOUS!

Today's ♥ list:

1. I woke up to poached eggs, courtesy of Robert
2. Volunteering at Gift of Life.  Visiting with Andy and Keith was a treat, and I totally tackled the Life Savers forms ; )
3. Intent on reading a few of the 100+ books I have checked out, I somehow fell asleep, and it was GLORIOUS!
4. After my nap, Ella brought me a ball and when I pointed to where I wanted her to put it she climbed up on the couch with me and all the books
5. Robert and I watched a little Top Gear : )
6. I'm always up for a little snow.  Today's was a little sloppy and sad, but I'll take it
7. I looked back at this blog and discovered that I need to find my way back here

Dear Soandso,

I don't know who you are, but I have witnessed how you manifest in people, and for your presence I am sincerely grateful.

Lately, my family has experienced a few crises, and because of you, we have been able to keep moving past them.

I hope I can pass this love on, and share the light that you fill me with when I blatantly ignore the brightness of the heartbeats of my loved ones, or when I struggle to rise from the grime of self pity and fear.  Please know that I am filled with life and a sense of humor and am a brick potty house to boot.  I am all these things because of the people who have taken your light and passed it on to me.  We are keeping this thing called faith alive - this wildly powerful belief that a higher power exists and strings us together with an invisible line made visible with love and trust and positivity.

We are the toughest house of cards.  We fall.  We grow.

I never know when you will appear, and I'm most always unprepared, and the gratitude I express is never enough, but I am here whenever needed.

doing my thing

Robert snapped this picture of myself, doing my thing. : )

a gift mumbled between black lips

Two goth kids said good morning to me today.  After I said good morning to them, they stared blankly at me for a moment and then begrudgingly mumbled a response.  I was this crazy bat on a bike, dressed like a Christmas tree, with flashing lights and various layers of bright clothing that adorned me like homemade ornaments. I embodied everything they were fighting not to be.  As I passed, I slowed and threw all my positive energy toward them.  They represented my younger self, a self that ached for acknowledgement, a self that eventually grew without the acknowledgement from others.  It could have been easier for me.  But it wasn’t.  And because it was hard for me, I am filled with a desire to make it easier for others whose reaching hands have been slapped.

When I said hello this morning, I expected nothing.  Instead I was given a gift mumbled between black lips as their pierced faces scowled for a moment, before radiating tiny sparks of light.  

I can stand staunchly

I have taken the leap, and have started doing hot yoga once a week.  Hot yoga is a series of poses done in a room heated to 105 degrees.  A lot of emphasis is placed on breathing and balance.    Although I have done hot yoga before, today is my first day of making it a solid part of my life. 

These are two different pieces about hot yoga from my journal:

***

I get to the class early to acclimate to the heat.  As everyone arrives I watch as they find their special places.  One gentleman touches several nail clusters on the floor with his feet until he locates his spot.  Then he carefully lines up his mat along the nails.

***

When I sweat I feel like I add layers to myself, to the home that is me.  My worldly possessions live within my cells.  I am a place, and the place is alive, and it holds all of me.  Sweating adds strength to a home that I don’t always acknowledge.  While I live on a quaint but unremarkable street in a little city in Kansas, it is not my true home.  It houses me, sure, but it does not contain me.  My body is my true house, the structure that holds and orchestrates my pulse. Because my home is my body I am not strewn about in different places, living outside myself in a pseudo hearth.  Also, if I allow my true home to be a physical landmark I will be perpetually exposed, my strength pocked with the foul weather of people’s unhappiness. Because my body is my home, I have constant shelter, and each time I sweat I am building a stronger place to hold me, so that whenever an intrusion occurs – a dirty look, obtrusive noises, the wild winds of indifference, I can stand staunchly and sustain minimal damage.

This is why hot yoga has become a constant.  I am guaranteed a little bit of sweat.  Not to mention a stillness inspired by motion.   

tamales from a can

Today I talked to a 90 year old retired opera singer.  He had an accent that could have been the trees exchanging wind. 

A man asked if we had a Ted Kooser book.  I am reading Ted Kooser at the moment (Winter Morning Walks), and startled the poor gentleman with my sudden enthusiasm. 

I found Sloane Crosley’s I Was Told There’d Be Cake on the shelf and put it on my Staff Picks. 

I discovered a book of stamps in a Cheever book before checking it in and called the patron.  He was thankful. 

One tub of books smelled like cigarette smoke and tamales from a can and it made me think of dad, and I was briefly overwhelmed with missing him.

Insert Cackling Here

Today there was an interesting email at work (the library job that is).

The message?

"Please don't nuke the books."

Apparently a man had been microwaving his books in order to "sterilize" them.

Well, guess what our library is doing right now? We're RFID tagging.

Sounds like somebody got a nasty little surprise.

Insert cackling here.