identity

so, a lot of time was spent in the fall thinking about time. as i hit my 49th birthday, i wonder : who am i? i remember when i was a kid, anyone older than 16 was old! 30 was really old. 40 was, well, really really old. at 50, you were someone's grandmother. you became invisible. you didn't really pay attention to those older folks in the shopping centers (believe it or not, there were no malls back then). they were just old people. doddering. foolish. old-fashioned. guess what? i'm almost there. and i don't FEEL doddering or foolish. true, my knees and hands aren't what they used to be. true, i sometimes forget the point of my sentences. true, i've heard myself start sentences with, "when i was your age..." but that doesn't make me an old person. does it? not like when i was young. and i fear becoming invisible. outdated. obsolete. i've seen communication go from 5-cent phone booths (yes- phone booths), to 10-cents to 25-cents and now 50-cents. not that anyone uses them. then bag phones, 25-pound mobile phones. now, everyone has a Star Trek-like device jammed in their ear so they can walk along (hopefully) talking to whomever on the other end. just what is so urgent that it has to be discussed 24/7? i remember having to wait till the "cheap time" to make long distance calls. now, any night or weekend will do, or any time of day if you're on the same network. home computers, microwaves, and *gasp* color TV all came into being in my lifetime. remember rabbit ears? so, a part of me feels very very old. but a part of me feels the same as i did when i was in my 20's and matching my legwarmers to my outfit du jour. i feel the same, but different. life is more precious to me, but not so serious. the drama of it all is past. i've learned that taking chances in life won't necessarily kill you. there is no right or wrong path to take. just don't stand still. take the path and make the best of the walk. it may be an uphill climb, but isn't the view the best from the top? it may be an easy paved path. don't we all wish for that? but anyway, to the meat of the matter. who am i? i don't need to spend a lot of time on that one, but it's interesting to watch how different people react differently to me. i guess it depends on when they met me in my life, or how they wish i was (as opposed to how i am). or maybe it's the situation they see me in most. for instance, the people at my job know me only in that environment. when i say something that doesn't "gel" with their perception of me, it's kind of fun to see the look on their face. my husband met me when i was taking a break from my art and recharging. i was in my badass phase - working at 911 and trying to keep a shell around my heart to protect myself from the horror of the job. art would crack that shell too much. so for him, this "art thing" is new. a phase. a hobby. hard for him to take me seriously as an artist. i understand it, but am frustrated by it. and sad that he is missing out on me. my artists friends are probably the ones who see the real me. i am constantly amazed when i look in the mirror. i have a mental picture of how i look on the inside - sort of a Stevie Nicks-ish spiritual type of look. ah yes - like the "artsy old ladies" with all the layers of Bluefish clothing. back to the old thing! last year, i cut my elbow-length hair short short short. like, can't even comb it short. i was working in radio and getting up at 3am. 2 of my 3 dogs were very old, and very high-maintenance. the hair had to go. i miss it now that my life has gotten simpler. but it's hair. just hair. i feel like a tall, thin, elegant woman. in fact, outside, i am short, a few extra pounds proceed me, and as far as elegant....well, not always. rarely. so should i become more the inside me? does it matter? i wonder if people would react differently to me if i dressed and acted more like the inside person. i'm comfortable with each role i must play - the work person, the art person, the friend in need, the friend who's there for you, the stepmother, the daughter, and yes, the wife. (although i admit, that's still a puzzle to me). so as the new year starts for the world, and also for me in my 49th year, i'll have to do some more thinking about identity and roles and what is genuine. prosperity and peace to y'all this year....and save the date - i'm having a surprise party for myself on my 50th! shhh! L.

do you see what i see? happy holidays

last year, right around this time, i spied 4 little black eyes staring up into the heavens side-by-side. catching snowflakes on their little noses. it was one of those "moments."

portions

art, to me, is every warm summer sun on your back after spending an hour in the pool playing mermaid with your best-friend-for-life...it's every first taste of panda paws ice cream with chocolate syrup....it's every warm furry four-legged body curled against you on a cold winter night, sighing, and holding your pinky finger with a paw.....it's the crunch of autumn leaves on the path through the woods - slight hickory smoke smells in the air, a surprise of warmth that late in the year. that's art to me. it's more than creating cool stuff. it's a birth of myself, over and over again. it's a primal urge that cannot be denied. perhaps surpressed for a time, but cannot be eradicated. it's as much a part of me as brown (ish) hair. when i'm in the zone, it's as much a rush as that first cigarette of the day, or too much coffee. the end result comes as much of physical deflation as an emotional moment. it's like a symphony being created. the slow quiet flutes and oboes giving way to the full monty brass section and percussion as the pieces to the puzzle become clear in my mind - this wire goes here, that fiber goes there - and my hands place and twist and glue, till the finale. there's almost a depression that follows, a let down when the piece is finished. like birth. the labor sweat gives way to tired fulfillment. as my time to create has been all but taken, i find it painful to even look in my studio. to want something so out of reach. unrequited love. i dare not to even think in color. this isa time that is calling me to find balance. it feels like this is my lesson to learn. balance in every area of my life - balancing time, balancing emotion. as hormones ebb and flow and rage and soften, i must learn to balance what i allow to tarry in my thoughts. as my time becomes stretched so thin, i must learn to parcel out the sections and pieces so precious. this will force me to pick at and examine each thing that comes my way - is this important enough for me to spend time on? if so, what will have to wait? so i accept the challenge, reluctantly, and hope it will make me a better person...both to myself and to those i love. and the art that awaits my hand and the symphony. L.

beautiful

Our perfect companions never have fewer than four feet... the next time sunrise steals your breath, or a meadow leaves you speechless, remain that way. say nothing. and listen as heaven whispers, "do you like it? i did it just for you." max lucado

o christmas tree

so we finally got a christmas tree today. we strung the lights and some red and gold beads and decided to leave the box of decorations out and put a few on every time we pass by. no one seems to have the heart for it this year, partly because of the weather i think. all i can think of is the holiday picture. every year since we moved here, i'd make jenny take a picture in front of the tree with Bear. Kita would be next - by himself, the ham - and forget about Nikki....she's as good as amish around the camera. this year, no picture to take. it's seems even more emptier here. last night i bought nikki a white teddy bear at the dollar store...long legs and not much stuffing. she drags that darn thing around like a woobie, and uses it for a pillow. she's seemed lonely a lot lately too. last year Nikita thought we'd gotten him indoor plumbing for christmas, and peed on the tree. you just had to laugh about it. i sure miss him. it's funny how this one holiday brings out the lonelies in people like no other. why is that? maybe because of all the hype and hustle & bustle attached to it. although i love getting presents, it's my least favorite holiday. i need quieter spaces. i am truly looking forward to january though! we're headed to florida for 5 days, then i come home alone and have 5 days off BY MYSELF! i hope to make good art. i'm also hoping to quit smoking during the 5 days gone, so cross your fingers for me. on top of having 4 friends with cancer (2 terminal), a friend of bill's was just told that lump on his neck is stage 4 cancer and has also spread to his tongue. even though there's not much hope (in the doc's view) they plan to start chemo & cutting. i guess that part scared me. imagine having your tongue cut away - you couldn't talk or eat well, etc. those 2 things are what i do best. seriously. so bill and i are both going to try to quit....should be a banner vacation! well, fatigue is starting to creep in, and nyquil is calling, so i'll try to think of some deep thoughts for next time! don't forget the $25 donation-to-the-CNYSPCA-challenge....have ya sent your check? if you don't have anyone to send it in remembrance of, send it in memory of my Bear - he came to Bill from the shelter, and we'll mss him under our tree this year. L.

frazzled

i frazzled, exhausted and covered in dog vomit. nice picture, eh? try BEING it! didn't get home till after 8pm 'cause the cash drawer wouldn't total again. the girl who's supposed to train me on this refused to help. said she had too much work of her own and wouuld be there late as it was. and i should know how to do it by now. add all that aggravation to a day from hell hell hell, and you got the makings of a meltdown. sleep. but wait! there's more! vomit vomit vomit. poor girlie. so, up at 8am, laundry, floor scrubbing etc. of all people, my mom pointed out that i hadn't begged God for THIS job....i was asking for A job, and only because it was being required of me. so i shouldn't feel like a brat if i hate this job. and i do. hate it. and i have to go get ready for it now, so bye! Linda

dear diary

dear diary, am i a bitch? am i unappreciative? self-centered? please tell me the truth - i can take it - maybe. it's just that lately i wonder. i prayed for a man who was handsome, single, hetero, made good money and actually loved me back. a month later - there was Bill. now all i do is whine and bitch about life as i know it. i begged and wept and prayed for a job away from 911 that paid well. and 2 months later - there was GHI. so after 3 years, i needed a job away from GHI, and there was MetroNetwork - back in the radio thing i do so well at. then, as summer wore on, i reluctantly prayed for a job that was close to home, with nice coworkers, was interesting, and paid more than $7 an hour. so here i am at my current job. about to start my 4th week, and already crying about IT. i have to wonder if i am unappreciative. i think the answer is no. i think the problem is, is that love and art keep intruding on reality. i have had the most blessed, fabulous fall - taking long, healing walks with my little girl, bonding and becoming centered. art has welled up from me in new and amazing ways that make me stunned when i see my work on someone's wall or desk. "I did that?!" having gone from 24/7 free time to having next to none has been a very difficult transition. both for me, and little dog. she is lonesome for me, and daily spends time by the back door howling her little wolf heart out. when i am home, i'm too pooped to be much of a mom. she holds her toy and looks hopefully at me then just lets it slide to the floor. having just spent time regretting the things i didn't do with Nikita, and walks we never took, this is so especially hard for me. i try to set aside time for myself. and time for art. and time for bill. and time for nikki. that leaves about 4 minutes each! and don't even talk about the laundry! i guess it's the opposite of unappreciative - i appreciate TOO MUCH the things that are important to me - the rare gifts i've been given in my soul, and feel that anything less than important, is not important enough to take my time away. but then again, there are bills to pay, so where is the line drawn? i would live lesser if it were just me. but i am joined to a household, and just as i would trade bigger for medium or small, the others would not. there cannot be 2 alphas in a sled team...2 visions for the ride. yes, there is common ground and give-and-take. but when there are 2 maps, and 2 ideas of final destinations, no amount of compromise will get you there. so you see my quandry. do i ease up and follow, or continue to pull and strain at the tether? each comes at a price. which am i willing to pay? L.

life's hiway

i remember late summer, and on through fall....the days stretched out before me, endless, like a long hot hiway through a desert canyon. mountains ahead and to the side like giant guardians - striated red, green, taupe and brown. the roadway clear and broken only by occaisional adventure, like the dashed lines down the center lane. an occaisional bumpbump-rrrrrr onto a rumble strip, but free and easy, one hand on the wheel, hair blowing in the dry breeze through the open top of a convertable. summer songs mingling with current favorites - black horse and a cherry tree, norah jones, bruce cockburn, joss stone, and mmmmmm mmm - ella. soon a car appears - opposite direction. then another and soon more. a diner to the right. a run-down shack of a grocery on the left. soon 18-wheelers hiss and creak out from side roads and a traffic light appears. people wait to cross. languid, yet purposeful. a small snap to reality as a town crowds in on your bliss. fingers tap on the wheel waiting for the light to turn. you continue through. you don't belong here. the intrusion makes you impatient to get back on the empty road, back to your journey. onto the dark hiway, broken only by dashed lines. lit only by a sun setting melon and aubergine and mustard and cobalt all at once and each at it's own depth and pace. music lowered to hear crickets and howls of coyotes. the top up now as a head covering in this holy place. this singular space. alone with thoughts and the masterpiece of the sunset. "life is a hiway - i want to ride it all night long" L.

sleeping giant

as my art time diminishes, my dream time has become more "creative." the ghoulies and ghosties that were normally expunged and swept away through fiber, metal, wood, paint are now trapped inside where they revel in nighttime salons. the sleeptime is no longer a haven for me - no color combinations revealing themselves to me ...no shapes to weld together, or answers to sticky problems presenting themselves shyly in the calm of the night. fears and randomness overtake my dreams. friends or aquaintences, long departed, have returned - along with my mandog, kita, to visit and torment. little girl dog wakes me if i disturb her too much with twisting and turning. sometimes she wakes me just to check. so my lack of invigorating, restful dreamtime is broken into jagged rips of time. the rest of the night is spent running up and down the stairs thinking she has to go out, mistaking her waking me for an urgency of her own. i have big plans for art time this weekend, and hope to report back placid sleep punctuated by paisley and magenta and my beloved colors of fall. i guess not everything sleeps in winter........L.

naughty

i was a little naughty today...i did end up calling in sick! i was actually very sick, and laid in bed all day reading/sleeping/reading. as the hours ticked by, i kept thinking, "yow! i'd still be at work!" and i'd be there still at this moment. it seems like the day is so much better spent in bed reading/sleeping/reading, but, oh well! i finished my current book, Rise And Shine by Anna Quindlan. i recommend it. i showered this morning, called in, then went back to bed. at first, i felt guilty, but then, simply naughty and wonderful! i mean, a lot of that was fueled by Nyquil, but it just seemed like, well, remember convincing your mother you were too sick to go to school? and you did feel aweful - till the bus left. then there was a world of possibilities. i just opted for the bed and book possibility. i still feel like death-sucking-on-a-biscuit, but tomorrow a vet appointment and wegmans are calling, so i'll suck it up and go out. the fact that i can pick and choose my level of contact with other humans makes a big difference. customer service is one forced "relationship" after another! am i having doubts about the job? well, if the hours don't change, maybe. i'm so much more of a morning person. even though it's nice to ease into the day, it's nicer to just go and get it over with. it seems like the 5-7pm hours drag by and are wasting my time and getting on my last nerve. so we'll see what becomes of things after the holidays. i truly miss cooking dinner with the wegmans menus. i miss having time at the end of the day to decompress and go for a walk, or even watch a little tv from the couch - not the bed! we'll see. maybe a lotto win will come my way! hoping to have some good thoughts tomorrow! L.

ramblings

so the past few months, the idea of "time" has been on my mind alot. the IDEA is still on my mind, as i have none to myself! the week is all about work and sleep. period. the weekends are about catching up on the things i used to spread out over 7 days - or 30 days - or 60 days ....laundry, groceries, cleaning, etc. now i try to cram it all in to 1 day so i can have "a" day for me me me. this weekend i begged out of the company christmas party (hate those things intensely) in order to make a few christmas gifts, and some personal art. good plans often fail! i am sooo sick. it feels bronchitis-y. i don't dare call in sick to work because i've only been there 3 weeks, and that sure doesn't look good. but it's all i can do to crawl there every morning and get through the day. the pace goes from busy to fast and furious. and i still haven't gotten a good handle on how to do my job. so there's the running around with a box of Kleenex hanging around my neck, sneezing on people, trying to help them with Nyquil brain. i'm back on the Nyquil/Dayquil addiction. little dog has had diarhea too, and she's just pointed out an accident in my studio that she's particularly upset about creating. a part of me is so dragged out i feel like just leaving it there, then cutting away the rug! i'm still trying to figure out the calling in sick idea. this company is great, but they will take as much as you give. maybe another cup of coffee will help. **sneeze** oy. L.

kick my butt

sorry i haven't posted in so long....believe me, i miss it. this job is just kickin' my behind in a big way. i've worked there going on 3 weeks and i have a urinary tract infection to beat the band AND a huge cold/sore throat thing. i'll whine here: i have no time for anything and i'm quite cross about that - even dreaming about art time. done whining. also done posting - i'm just too tired. L.

frosty

we've got a new routine, little dog and I. every morning she wakes me up at 7:30am to go for a walk. these daily walks started in August - when it was warm. i needed the walk to clear my head, and she needed them to clear the puppy energy that persists well into her middle age. but now, it's cold, and the thought of bundling up and booting up and gloving up is just almost too much. my mom's in the hospital so i was up late last night on the phone and worrying. the 7:30 am walk was the last thing i wanted this morning, but dog's can't tell time. since she'll be alone all day again today - husband is out of town - i gloved and booted and bundled to go across the street so she could check her messages. wow! it was worth it. the sun was glinting off the frozen grass and bare tree limbs. a coating of shiny white frost was everywhere. sunbeams danced and reflected off rainbows made from the encased grass and leftover unraked leaves. a mist crossed the pond as we made our way across the footbridge. i wished for a camera, but knew the image was best saved in my heart. well, work calls, so it's warm warm shower time, then off to the salt mines. have a happy holiday tomorrow....make time for loved ones. L.

the luxury of waste

the idea of time has been on my mind a lot lately....especially in the past week when it seems like i haven't had enough. Time. the passage of time. the changes that time brings. wasting time. what a luxury to have enough time to be able to waste it! i think back on the past few months when i've either been home by 9am, or not working at all, and think - what a gift. to have the whole day and evening ahead of me to use as i please. i'm sure there was some time in there that i wasted, as if i'd always have enough. i valued it, yet sometimes, i wasted it. doing nothing. doing unimportant things. napping. fussing about something. but feeling like i had enough time that if i spent a day accomplishing nothing, it would be okay - there was a day after that, and another to follow. and days rolled by. yes, i did create some amazing art during that time. and i suspected that a job would soon follow that would not be as conducive to wasted time as my lifestyle had been. but what a luxury. to have enough of anything that you can waste some of it. i have teeny tiny scraps of fabric that i refuse to throw out. i know i can never reproduce them, or find them to buy again. they have a high value to me and i guard them. only my most special projects, or most certain outcomes of projects, get a sliver of those fabrics in them. likewise, i suppose, is my time. do i spend it here or there? which activity, or non-activity, has the most value to me? which will hold few regrets if i use some precious time to do them? do i spend time cleaning or dyeing silk? (easy answer!) do i spend time fussing and arguing with my husband over something, or just bite the bullet and go on with my day? what holds value? what is the priority? arguing is probably the least productive, but like laundry in the hamper, the issues build up. then it becomes a priority. then the time becomes wasted as it intrudes on your "other" time - your "self" time. any time little dog needs a hug or a kiss, i drop everything and gladly indulge her. and myself. i've learned that time spent enjoying love - especially when it's wrapped in fur - is never wasted time. even if it means something else gets pushed aside. i think of my friend katie. she is out of time to waste. she must make every minute count now. she does not have the luxury of saying she'll do something tomorrow, because there may not be tomorrow for her. a valuable lesson for me. i don't feel as though i should be going going going like a madwoman every second, but i do feel like the important things that need my attention or warrant my attention, should get bumped up in the priority chain. i've learned throughout the past year that things change and time is impatient. there's a song that says something about learning tolive like you were dying. that's the advice i give myself. L.

welcome to the working week

there's a song by Elvis Costello called "Welcome to the Working Week." catchy tune by far. the verse goes: "welcome to the working week/ i know it don't thrill ya/ i hope it don't kill ya/ welcome to the working week/ ya gotta do it/ gotta do it/ so ya better get to it." well, it almost killed me! so this is how other people do it! this has been the loooongest week of my life. monday was long and tiring, but i had that adrenaline/new kid thing going. i could have been shoveling coals in Newcastle, but would have had that "new thing" eagerness. monday night - feet swollen and screaming. smoking 3 cigs at a time on the way home. didn't have the energy to eat dinner but felt i should since my husband cooked the wegmans recipe i left for him. tues. - almost cried in the shower. is it possible to be this tired and live? my little girldog was out of her natural mind. she doesn't understand why i keep leaving her all day. she's bored and scared. i went to bed at who knows when. wednesday - do i dare quit?? the people are nice. my feet are numb. i get 30 mins to throw down lunch and smoke and call whomever on my cellphone. but the lunchroom is nice and the coffee is free. have not left work at 7pm yet. the cash drawer is always off. I'm tempted to keep a roll of change in my purse and just throw in the missing dollar or whatever. just let me go home! went to bed at 9pm. thurs - got up at 7:30am and took little girldog for a walk. showered at my leisure and went to work. wondered when i would carve out a minute or 2 for art. that part is making me sad, but i had a good attitude about going to work since i wasn't feeling guilty about girldog. came home and decided my routine would be to go to bed at 9-9:30 and get up at 7-7:30 and walk her. it's really the only time i get to walk all day - mostly it's standing in 1 spot for 8 hours or moving within a 15-foot area. she's happy, i'm happy. friday went very well. everyone gets along well at work. it's not horrible. i'm actually starting to learn what it is i should know. despite my misgivings at 11am on monday. i even got a copy machine to work today! yippee! i will never take a saturday or sunday for granted EVER again. even if i win the lottery this weekend, which i'm praying i do. don't let me kid ya - i'm not cut out for the working world. so my friend katie is dying. she found out about 8 months ago that she has melanoma and was sent home to die. she is one of my Most Special People. she's been fine up until about a week ago. i don't want her to suffer - she's too good for that. she doesn't deserve that. but i also don't want her to die. i want to be able to call her up and say "KATIE JANE!" and she says "hey Linda Lou. How you doin'?" i've never heard Katie swear. not in all our years at 911. the closest she came was on a night when the 4-letter words were flying like goose poop and hell had unleashed itself upon the city....shootings, stabbings, fires...name it and there it was. she said "effin'" and i think "what the hell-o." nothing bothered her, at least not to where she'd take it out on someone else. even though that was allowed at 911. she cared deeply but took no shit. in her own southern-fried 5-foot tall-can't hear without her glasses-on way katie let you know how it would be. my stepkids were threatened with quotes from Kate - "don't make me beat your ba-hind," "i will beat you, and don't even think about callin' no police, cause hah-ney (honey with a southern accent) they gone see the name and they won't be comin' to help y'all." she has a way of saying "shoot" (as in - darn) that lasts forever. something like "shee-oooot" with the "e" and "o" sound all smushed up together. and everything ends in that "hah-ney" that defies spelling. If you meet Katie, you either love her or fear her. and if you fear her, you didn't take time to know her. and that would be your loss for sure. it's not likely she will live till Christmas - a holiday she never celebrated anyway, because she's a Jehovah Witness. it's unlikely i'll ever be able to tell her what she has meant to me. there aren't words. and even more unlikely that she'd ever let me finish telling her if i started. she's all like that. but no matter how hard, i will try. she never got a computer, or email, or callwaiting. so i can't hide behind a keyboard, or caller ID. remember the days? you'd have to actually talk to the person. or write a letter. when words meant more, i think, because they were thoughtfully constructed. not just flung out into the internet or cable with the click of a mouse. when you actually have to take time to find a piece of paper and a stamp, then you think a little harder about the contents of the envelope, i think. not that it's all about me, but this has been a year of losses. it has helped me focus on what i have, even if i don't HAVE it, and appreciate it more. like saturdays. and girldogs. and Katie. L.

a big Stepford wife howdy

it isn't often that i get this excited about anything to do with household chores, (in fact - never) but this is HUGE! i'd started feeling like a freeloader at my own house. depressed over the job propects not looming before me, and feeling the impatience emmanating from my husband, i decided to cook a really nice dinner. just to make nice. so i went to wegmans to find a good frozen dinner i could doctor up a little. or at least not burn. at the front of the store, they had a tasting area by the Menu magazine thing. a guy named dave (according to his name tag) said the asian bbq brisket was simple to make. it seemed like it, and he seemed sincere. all the ingrediants were helpfully grouped right there, so onward i went. it was incredible! i was a hero in my own home for a change! the kids actually LOOKED at me! so i went back the next day and found another recipe and - BAM! same thing! so, now i'm hooked. i made dinner for an entire week with no insult or injury! in fact, it may be a struggle to get the boy-child to go home to his mother for her week of his fabulous company. so i actually bought a menu magazine. now, the story shifts. i got a job! good. good. i'll be working 10:30am-7pm. bad bad. for now my culinary addiction will be curbed. so i decided i was not going to start eating frozen stuff again, or get home at 7:15 to find a table full of people staring at me waiting for my emeril impression. i went to the wegmans site and am soooo gone! i swear i'm not getting paid by them! you can actually make up your shopping list from their pull-down selections on the website, and when you print it out, the damn thing puts it all in order by aisle! holy smokes! PLUS - and this, my friends is huge- you can find a recipe, and click on it. it will print up the recipe AND you canadd the ingrediants to your shopping list! huge! PLUS - oh yes, there's more - plus, they have online video cooking lessons. i mean, i had no idea how to blanch vegetables. now i do. pan searing, you ask? oh yes. i have even gotten a fussy 17 year old to eat and like BOK CHOY. ya know, a part of me is reading this as i write it, and is wondering who put the Stepford pills in my coffee. i don't get it either. i would love Nella Meeks job...or is it mary ellen burris, now? and why do i know that?? i don't know. yes, i am a little worried, but i feel like i have some "kitchen cred" now. i guess, at least for a few weeks, i had a purpose and a place of importance in the household, and it was cool. instead of the wild-haired cigarette-smoking she devil in the bathrobe till noon (or later), i held the power - food! power through polenta! i will miss cooking during the week (who said that?!?!), and i will miss going for walks with my little darlin' every day.we had a small but regular life. walk, art time, dinner. things will change quite a bit in the next few days. it will be nice to be working again though. cross your fingers and say a little prayer for me as i head out to my new job monday morning. i feel like it's the first day in a new school! hey - maybe mary ellen burris will retire soon, and i can take over! could ya just...! so if my posts become somewhat sporadic, please be patient...i'm adjusting to my new schedule. and my new head. this cooking thing has me all sorts of turned around! L.

by the way

i have had problems with posts not publishing - waiting waiting waiting for the little green segments to make their way across the bar at the bottom. so my apologies for the inconsistant postings. but my patience with technology is thin, so i end up just shutting the computer off and losing the post. so that's why it seems like days in between. L.

crispy and warm

i took little dog for a walk yesterday....the BIG walk. we'd been inside for a few days without one and she was getting ants in her pants. the leaves are mostly fallen - butternut and caramel colors scraping across our path whenever a light breeze danced past. crunching underfoot as we walked along. a few geese and ducks stayed behind this year, squawking out territories in the pond. some winter birds already house hunting in the bare branches - their 3-note warbles calling to friends returning from last year. the sun warmed my back as little dog slowly made her way along the familiar route. it's a long walk even at a regular walking pace - about 40 minutes or so. but to little dog, each leaf and hidden blade of grass holds a tale to be told, so i wait patiently at the other end of the leash as she sniffs through the piles of leaves looking for her messages. there's one spot in particular that must be the neighborhood bulletin board for dogs, and we could spend long minutes there while she "reads" each note. i didn't mind...it was a beautiful day. and probably one of only a few left. then the paths will rest under heavy blankets of snow. the craggy ice will trip up our progress and turn our ankles. i savored every sound, every smell of woodsmoke from leaf piles, every last treetop conversation. the world seems so much quieter wrapped in snow blankets. muffled. huddled. i guess it's that burst of exhuberant sound that makes spring so special - that makes you run outside for a long walk without your scarf and gloves and heaviest coat. and the smell. winter bundles up the earth's perfumes to save for spring. then, as the sun begins to strip away the buntings and cloaks from the ground, the essences begin again to fill your nostrils. remember when you were 16 - just got your permit or license. the first real spring day - didn't we all roll down the car windows and want to drive a million miles an hour? of course, we were all invincible then! but just the promise kept that yes, green and gold and yellow and red and purple would return again. friday is supposed to be sunny - i'm thinking - 1 last lake day! one more day mindful that it's almost nap time for our part of the world. i have a friend who lives here in summer, then in Australia for the winter. their seasons are opposite ours. i thought - how glorious is that! but she has tired of endless summers, and says she longs to feel the snap of the cold and breathe the snow freshened air. she moves from one garden that needs tending, to another that's ready to wake up and be tended. i'm not sure how long it would take me to tire of that, but i'll take her word for it. i guess. so enjoy your day - whether it be rainy or sunny today, damp and cold or relatively warm. there's still a little life left out there! L.

patience and trust

well, my nails are bitten down to the finger for no good reason. i'm waiting rather inpatiently to hear word about a job i applied for. i thought i'd hear by friday or saturday. i called saturday, and lo and behold - they aren't open saturdays....surprise & bonus! i have to trust that if it's meant to be, no outside force can change that...not my begging God in the shower, not my promises to be good, to stop swearing (i know better than to promise to quit smoking). if it's not meant to be, then it's just not going to happen. and i should be grateful that i didn't end up in a job that looked like birthday cake on the outside but ended up moldy cheese on the inside. been there. done that. got the t-shirt. i hate actually WANTING the job i apply for - just for this reason! i truly do believe that all things work together for good when you are looking at God as the uber-controller. it's weird....i walked away from the church and so-called organized religion years ago. since that time, it seems that i have found more of a spirituality outside of the walls-and-pews than inside. i hate it when people try to shove their ideas at you, and make you doubt your own beliefs. i read the Bible - i know the important parts (the ending is better than anything Hollywood could come up with!). but walking through the woods on a crispy autumn day, or a warm summer evening....that's when i feel more churchy than when i was in church. when someone was standing in front of me telling me 8 ways i was a sinner and could never be good enough to please God. well, i actually think i do please Him from time to time, and i think He gets a kick outta some of the things i do, or predicaments i get into. feeling right, and centered, and comfortable with my beliefs about my beliefs was the single most empowering thing that's ever happened to me. which is strange, since when i walked away from the church, i felt like i'd always be ducking behind a post and hiding from God like a kid who forgot his homework. so although i really really want this job, i will have to be patient till Monday, and trust that the right decision was made - either way. i've never been good at patience, and trust is an iffy thing with me as well. so this entire exercise is one big lesson, i guess. i hope to pass. i hope to make it through without a heart attack. i hope to not end up begging like a spoiled, cranky kid in a grocery store for something that the parent knows is no good. i say "i hope to" because i know all too well that i can still be that tantrum-throwing gimme gimme brat- not out loud, but mentally. i'm feeling that it's time to go to work...it feels right. and i guess the anticipation is what's making me edgy...like when you waited to get the letter from school to find out who your homeroom teacher was going to be. anyway, till then, i promise i will try to be good. and not mope and whine. and not beg incessantly. and trust. and be patient. but i will not quit smoking. l.

the smell of Dove

i've just spent part of last night and most of this morning (6am on) wet felting. last night as i did some dinner dishes, i squirted a little Dove for dishes on a plate, and realized how much i missed the feel of roving becoming felt. (i use Dove in the process.) Okay...the dish i was washing was actually from my dog's dinner. if you know me and my culinary abilities, you know that when my husband is out of town, it's pizza all the way. in fact last year on Halloween, my 1st trick-or-treaters were firemen. it was definately no treat. anyway, i laid out roving through the night, getting it just right, adding a little purple here, some brown, some red. i wanted to convey the feeling i had walking through my beloved fall woodspath. after many arduous hours spent elbow deep in cold, then hot soapy water, rolling and rolling and rolling the delicate fiber to make it strong and bonded, my efforts were rewarded. the fabric i created is tasty. i've left it outside to dry, hoping the smell of the woods, and my neighbors fireplace will lock into the fiber. my husband will be out of town for another night, so, i'm headed back to immerse my senses in the craft. felting is such an organic process....you can only tell the fiber what to do and hope it listens. it goes this way and that at will & whimsy sometimes, or so it seems. to think that you are recreating such an ancient art. to have actually "met" the sheep that provided it's wool to you is unexplainable. before i start, i ask my muse to help me, so as not to waste or disrespect what the sheep has provided. so different from metal. each fulfills a need within me to create, to express. the expression different with each medium. the music i play while creating with each, different. the story given by each piece created - different. so, back to it....hoping my floor dries before i'm found out, and that the wrinkles in my fingers fill in soon! L.