Random Thoughts

I wrote a couple of years ago about being a person who STOPS. Stops for lemonade stands.   Stops for mariachi bands practicing unexpectedly in parking lots.   Stops for wicker love seats left on the side of the road that just need a little tender loving care and a new home. I am happy to be a person who stops.   It feels like who I AM.   It is an integral part of what makes me me . And look, I am not staying that ME is any better than anyone else .   It is just that I have been reminded all day today how the rest of the world, at least the people who pass the Big Yellow House, are not like me.   And I find it so strange. It has been months since I did a “front gate project” – a term I coined for “events” I plan and put up on our front gate.   (And it is literally now GATE and not gate S , because we still only have one front gate since the unfortunate “car runs into house” episode that happened last October…) Anyway, I h...

Sometimes when I get into a funk, things repeat over and over in my head. Usually negative things. But I am not the only one, right?   I mean, that’s happens to you, too, doesn’t it?   Oh man, please tell me it’s not just me… Anyway, I probably should have talked through this with a therapist years ago.   Doing so might have gotten this god awful (pun intended) ear worm out of my head. Here’s a little ditty I was taught in Sunday school or summer Daily Vacation Bible School when I was a kid: “Jesus and others and you, What a wonder way to spell J O Y Jesus and others and you, What fun for a girl and a boy** (can that line have been that ridiculous?   I know it rhymed with joy…) J is for Jesus ‘cuz he has first place O is for others you meet face to face Y is for YOU in whatever you do – Put yourself THIRD and spell joy.” What.   The.   Actual.   F.   Seriously, it has taken me 53 years to wash that B.S....

This is the story of a couch. A couch that came in 3 boxes. We popped into Ikea in Jacksonville, Florida to pick up some NAPKINS.   Napkins. We left with a couch.   A couch in 3 boxes. But, only 1 box would fit in our Prius.   Try as we might to squeeze the other 2, or even 1 more, in, only 1 would fit. The family next to us took pity.   They had planned ahead.   They did NOT go to Ikea for napkins and come out with a couch (in 3 boxes).   They came to Ikea with a list, and stuck to it.   And before beginning their shopping, they rented a flat bed to haul their boxes home.   Unlike us. But they smiled at us.   Giggled at our attempts to mash oversize boxes in an undersize car. And in the end, for $25 they hauled 2 of our boxes to their home, which was a wee bit closer to ours, and held them until we could go home.   And drop off box #1.   Then head back… We had driven 90 minutes to get to Ikea...

Many people find inspiration and life lessons in songs.   I guess I would say that lots of mine would come from BROADWAY MUSICALS.   I grew up listening to albums of musicals that my mom would play on our furniture-sized living room record player   – Hello Dolly, Fiddler on the Roof… My most recent inspiration from a musical is from Avenue Q – specifically the song “There Is Life Outside Your Apartment…”.   If you haven’t seen Avenue Q, it’s quite funny (don’t let the fact that it has puppets in it scare you away).   David and I went years ago and got last minute rush tickets.   We couldn’t sit together, but at intermission we found one another and gushed over how amazing the show was.   And, like many musicals, when it was over I “needed” the cast recording and I have listened to the CD over and over. Passion flower - I took this photo at the event described below.  Isn't it amazing? Anyway, THERE IS LIFE OUTSIDE YOUR APARTMENT. ...

So, this is 53. Birthday SUP - first time out on the paddleboards this year I don’t believe in New Year’s Resolutions – but if I DID believe in making promises to yourself that you wanted to keep for a whole year – I would do them on my BIRTHDAY instead of New Year’s.   A birthday is something personal.   It is YOUR day.   It is a clean slate.   A new beginning.   Starting fresh. It's nearly impossible to use a camera timer and get two people in one SUPing photo...  That didn't stop up from trying! But instead of resolutions about what I will do going forward, I think it would be wise to take a look backward and see what 52 (and the years before that) may have taught me. I have been open and honest – 2018 SUCKED.   It was a very hard year for my entire family.   It started with David breaking his collar bone, which turned out to be the very least of our worries and poor David in his arm sling was tossed to the bottom of the ...

We all have our take on organized religion.  Much of our perspective is probably shaped by our religious experiences growing up.  I don’t normally talk about religion because it is such a hot button issue.   And, in my experience, if you tell someone you are not religious, a cloud falls over the conversation.   It is as if suddenly their view of you changes, you are judged not for what you are, but for what you are NOT. But in doing some spring cleaning recently I got to thinking about it all.   You see, we have a PEW on our porch.   A real, live, honest to goodness CHURCH PEW.   We got it for free when a neighborhood church decided to close and let itself be replaced by affordable housing (which is something in short supply around us).   I saw a posting saying that they had pews to give away, and for some reason I felt like I really needed one… Our pew It was an odd addition to our house, really.  I don’t “do” Pinteres...

We went to Philadelphia recently, and in looking online for things to do before the trip I found THE MAGIC GARDENS.   It is a space filled to the brim with mosaics and art by Isaiah Zagar.   I like mosaic – always love visiting the American Visionary Art Museum in Baltimore with its mosaic egg and walls. And we visited a space mosaic-ed by Niki de Saint Phalle, Queen Califia’s Magic Circle, in Escondido, California once that fascinated me, so I knew I would enjoy the Magic Gardens. But honestly, I was not prepared for the sensations that overcame me.   Every inch of the space – the walls, the stairs, the columns, the floors, was covered in ART .   Most was mosaic made from tiles, glass, ceramic, bits and pieces of life, all grouted together.   The artist seemed to have expressed his innermost thoughts, himself , and glued bits and pieces of it everywhere.   It was as if he was showing himself to the world, but only the attentive few would fin...