the mornings are cooler now as i sip my first cup of steaming coffee on the deck and spend some time with my thoughts and my winged muses in the backyard. the steam fogs my glasses momentarily as i take a sip. my cardinal wakes me up promptly at 5:30...his 1-note call insistent from the tree branch outside my bedroom window. he continues till he sees me reappear on the deck...sometimes alone, sometimes with diva dog. she seems to annoy him as much as he annoys her... she stands at the edge of the deck scolding him till he flies to the nearest tree calling back to her. luckily she tires of the battle quickly, and i'm left to my thoughts and the wranglings of the squirrels. today, i am alone on the deck, and the blue jays try to taunt away anyone else who would dare approach the feeder. bold brash birds, are those. my beautiful finches have begun to shed their blazing golden feathers for a more modest suit of browns and greys...fall - and soon winter - is approaching. the air is crisp in the mornings. a cozy sweater needed to wrap up in. the moon peeks out much earlier. the change of seasons. the earth's continuum. life repeating the endless cycle. my studio purge has left clean flat surfaces - it's been a while since my worktable has been this organized! old friends now put in labeled bins where they wait to be considered for the next project. it's been weeks since that's happened. at first i worried that i was beginning a cycle of the dreaded Artist Block. now i realize that rather than having a lack of ideas, it was quite the opposite - too many all fighting to come to the forefront for consideration, resolution, transformation and completion. i tend to move to fiber in the fall and winter. not sure why. it just is. i no longer try to force it back or figure it out. it just is. so i listen and move forward. currently i'm being nagged at by Orange Koi. everywhere i go - and in the most obscure reference points - Orange Koi. i've had an idea percolating for about a year now. Orange Koi. but with spring and summer came rusty metal and wood. but now (Jaws music please) we're back to Orange Koi. swimming languidly and patiently in my mental muse file. she is now growing and taking over. so Orange Koi it will be. i still have a few unresolved rusty metal issues to deal with, but perhaps some work with my Koi will help. passages and changes. yesterday marked a significant passage. my husband and i took his son to college. his first year. this has not been a wonderful year with Youngblood (as i call him). he was dealing with his own passages and changes, and was absolutely miserable to be around. not completely grown, but thinking so. as his struggles went raging, so too were my husband's. they are close. locked in constant battle as only a father and son could be, yet cut from the same cloth. a fight against oneself. i watched from the sidelines as they tried to find common ground, only to re-engage. i smiled to myself as i replaced their images with those of my mother and i. each yearning for that hug and reassurance, yet too prideful to step forward...too afraid to show weakness...too scared to look at the other to think how alike we really were. these two resolve issues much quicker, being men. no residual deep thoughts and contemplations about this or that. just the battle for supremacy, then an hour of tossing a lacrosse ball back & forth out front. at some point during the summer, Youngblood and is mom had a falling away. i knew some details, but let it stay in the "family"....preferring to be Sweden in this issue. i asked, from time to time, if he was nervous about going away to school. i told him saturday morning as he played his guitar rather than packing, that we had another tenant coming in and he must vacate within the hour. a little humor to light the fire. his dad paced in the garage, fuming about his son being such a procrastinator. i held a mirror to him and asked him where he thought the child had learned that? i reminded Big Daddy that within the space of 1 day, he'd be missing those very same traits, and threatened violence if he didn't redirect his melancholy away from the path of least resistance - anger. works every time. he's more afraid of a long drawn-out philosophical discussion than any threatened whooping. (which, for the record, has never been delivered). the kids became accustomed to me threatening their dad with obscure and impossible punishments. "i will strap wings of wax to you and throw you from the roof" .... "i will call my uncle Frankie The Snail and we'll see how important it is for you to go golf/hunt/whatever today." you get the point. so back to saturday morning. the last chance they have to argue on common turf, with roles unchanged....still father and son living under one roof. still dependant and protector. the safety net still firmly tied in place, allowing for practiced flights with no consequence. finally....we are able to leave. mom and sister will meet us there. oh the joys of steps and halfs and ex's. 2 cars everywhere. so silly. somewhere just past Junius Ponds but before the first Rochester exit, during a pause in Dave Matthews Greatest Hits, Youngblood says, "i t just hit me that you guys will be going home tonight, but I won't." uh oh. a chill panic started to set in - like a cat who's realizing that the warm bubbly wet stuff in the sink is for THEM. was that a pin i heard dropping? after a year of listening to bold assertations about how he was going to turn the college on it's ear, he was suddenly realizing what a big planet it actually was. i'll skip the details of the day's activities, which were masterfully orchestrated by the college. the Final Moment came, and Big Daddy's chin began to quiver, eyes flooded, as he hugged his son for the last time as dependant and provider. i'd already secretly bawled my eyes out - surprising myself greatly. i'd watched Youngblood grow from age 11. from a chubby little kid to lean athletic man-child. i know he'll do good. he's a born leader, and once you get past all the blarney, has a gentle heart. or at least a good one. just one look at him with his little half-sister tells it all. he bought her a little pink Dora The Explorer hat to remember him by while he's away. she'll grow into it. now who'da thunk he'da thought of that? so this morning, i sit on my deck alone. no diva dog chasing the birds away, no loud music stepping on my last reserve nerve, no tense words about cleaning a bedroom getting caught in the screen door....just me and my mug of coffee, now cold and needing refilling. a strange feeling. and who knows what tenant will move in to fill the vacuum? L.
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