Okay - I can't help it, the first thing that caught my eye when I opened my puter this morning was a celebrity announcement of marriage. I usually don't get hooked by celebrity gossip - means next to nothing to me, but I must for some reason be susceptible to a 'crush' state (yesterday's blog I confessed I was 'crushing' on Josh Taylor at the moment) This piece of news was re: a film star crush that has stuck with me for, can it really be, 40 years. Robert Redford married a 51 year old artist from Germany,
http://omg.yahoo.com/news/robert-redford-marries-german-girlfriend/25233?nc
and I couldn't help but think there probably aren't many red blooded 51 year old heterosexual females who haven't thought at some time or another they might could go for Robert Redford. Swoooooooooon! The cowboy of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, the student or Naval officer in The Way We Were, the journalist of All The President's Men or Up Close and Personal, outdoorsman and adventurer in Jeremiah Johnson or Out of Africa, baseball player in The Natural, etc. So MANY men he's made me fall in love with.
The bride is Sybille Szaggars, a contemporary 'mystic' artist. You can see her work here: http://www.sibylleszaggars.com/index.html
And would you believe, not a single DVD or video of his in the house...pout
Chuckling to myself - one day now young women will be remembering when they 'crushed' on Brad Pitt for 40 years too. tee hee
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Tuesday Morning Coffee with Wildlife and Toys
A second mug of coffee, GAC on TV and 'crushing' on Josh Taylor's slightly rugged good looks and voice singing 'Another Try' (he has to beg, even in song???? For goodness sakes, WHY???)....
The sun had been up an hour or so when I made my way outside this morning to sip the first mug of steaming coffee while sitting a bit before the heat uncomfortably crushed any desire to be outdoors. Sliding the screen door open and closed again, I startled a young deer that must have been nibbling on something green and tasty just beyond the overgrown brush about 10 yards from the door. She swiftly high tailed off to my left presumably to the North rim of the lake. Apparently she wasn't the same doe I'd seen yesterday afternoon in the same area with the teeniest fawn I'd ever seen because no little fawn followed.
A slight breeze tickled the leaves of some thin branched tree I can't identify (Note to self: get a field guide to tree/plant life) but the oaks were oblivious. Not a leaf stirred on them. Floating through the air like ash from a far off fire was a wispy curtain of downy, white seeds. It's too early yet for the cat-tails to erupt into seed but I wonder what has.
It was unusually noisy for early morning and I couldn't see enough birds gathered in tree branches to create such a racket. I wished I'd had my mini binoculars 'round my neck for a closer look to see if the source was camoflauged in the dense limbs of oak foilage. Suddenly I noticed movement in the corner of my left eye and turned to see a quail topping the pile of dead limbs rising almost to the crest of the hill dropping from the end of the driveway and waiting for the next legal burn day or to be fuel for the next not-so-legal fire pit use. I'm always amused watching the jerky, bobble head movements of the quail on flat land - like less domesticated versions of farm hens. Watching, I noticed another and another of the birds move higher in the pile of limbs and realized there must be an entire flock feeding on who knows what. There may have been ants or some other insects or larvae but I always thought quail diet was seed. (Note to self: find out primary diet of quail) I quickly realized though I'd only experienced them in silence the quail are the source of the 'noise'.
It didn't sound like any birdsong at all, but rather the sound they made reminded me of a childhood toy I used to play with my little brother with when I was 5 or 6 and he was 3. I was reminded distinctly of the sound of wheels of an all wood train set on its wooden tracks when we'd try to make the train go REALLY fast. If we were that noisy at play I gotta wonder that our parents didn't wax the wheels or the track grooves to quiet us. Or maybe, like when my own kids were little, they could tell without actually seeing us by the noise of our toys that we weren't getting into any serious trouble.
I saw a similar set used as wall decor in a preschool little boy's room on an HGTV show the other day. Figured it was vintage and had been garnered by some collector from EBAY or something. Curious, after my vivid memory this morning, I checked the internet and found they still sell similar train sets with bare wood tracks and painted wooden train cars. Brand name sets go under the label BRIO and compared to toy prices I've seen as I've shopped WALMART and Target for my grand kids on occasion they were surprisingly reasonable. A little sadly, I think though, that my Lil Leo, turning 5 next month, may already be too high tech mature for a toy of such simplicity and that's a shame. Even more of a shame, his younger sisters (and mother) might think a train set from G-Ma in California for them is a goofy and gender inappropriate gift. (sighs)
Which brings me to another thought - I'm glad I had a little brother close enough in age that I got to play with toys I might not have if I'd only had girl toys and I always liked his toys better than mine anyway: Tinker toys, Lincoln Logs, tons of Legos. But I did love my lace up cards I'd 'stitch' with colored shoe strings through punched holes. I wonder which of those toys contributed most to making me the creative grown up I became?
So, I'm wondering what toys do you remember from your toy box????
The sun had been up an hour or so when I made my way outside this morning to sip the first mug of steaming coffee while sitting a bit before the heat uncomfortably crushed any desire to be outdoors. Sliding the screen door open and closed again, I startled a young deer that must have been nibbling on something green and tasty just beyond the overgrown brush about 10 yards from the door. She swiftly high tailed off to my left presumably to the North rim of the lake. Apparently she wasn't the same doe I'd seen yesterday afternoon in the same area with the teeniest fawn I'd ever seen because no little fawn followed.
A slight breeze tickled the leaves of some thin branched tree I can't identify (Note to self: get a field guide to tree/plant life) but the oaks were oblivious. Not a leaf stirred on them. Floating through the air like ash from a far off fire was a wispy curtain of downy, white seeds. It's too early yet for the cat-tails to erupt into seed but I wonder what has.
It was unusually noisy for early morning and I couldn't see enough birds gathered in tree branches to create such a racket. I wished I'd had my mini binoculars 'round my neck for a closer look to see if the source was camoflauged in the dense limbs of oak foilage. Suddenly I noticed movement in the corner of my left eye and turned to see a quail topping the pile of dead limbs rising almost to the crest of the hill dropping from the end of the driveway and waiting for the next legal burn day or to be fuel for the next not-so-legal fire pit use. I'm always amused watching the jerky, bobble head movements of the quail on flat land - like less domesticated versions of farm hens. Watching, I noticed another and another of the birds move higher in the pile of limbs and realized there must be an entire flock feeding on who knows what. There may have been ants or some other insects or larvae but I always thought quail diet was seed. (Note to self: find out primary diet of quail) I quickly realized though I'd only experienced them in silence the quail are the source of the 'noise'.
It didn't sound like any birdsong at all, but rather the sound they made reminded me of a childhood toy I used to play with my little brother with when I was 5 or 6 and he was 3. I was reminded distinctly of the sound of wheels of an all wood train set on its wooden tracks when we'd try to make the train go REALLY fast. If we were that noisy at play I gotta wonder that our parents didn't wax the wheels or the track grooves to quiet us. Or maybe, like when my own kids were little, they could tell without actually seeing us by the noise of our toys that we weren't getting into any serious trouble.
I saw a similar set used as wall decor in a preschool little boy's room on an HGTV show the other day. Figured it was vintage and had been garnered by some collector from EBAY or something. Curious, after my vivid memory this morning, I checked the internet and found they still sell similar train sets with bare wood tracks and painted wooden train cars. Brand name sets go under the label BRIO and compared to toy prices I've seen as I've shopped WALMART and Target for my grand kids on occasion they were surprisingly reasonable. A little sadly, I think though, that my Lil Leo, turning 5 next month, may already be too high tech mature for a toy of such simplicity and that's a shame. Even more of a shame, his younger sisters (and mother) might think a train set from G-Ma in California for them is a goofy and gender inappropriate gift. (sighs)
Which brings me to another thought - I'm glad I had a little brother close enough in age that I got to play with toys I might not have if I'd only had girl toys and I always liked his toys better than mine anyway: Tinker toys, Lincoln Logs, tons of Legos. But I did love my lace up cards I'd 'stitch' with colored shoe strings through punched holes. I wonder which of those toys contributed most to making me the creative grown up I became?
So, I'm wondering what toys do you remember from your toy box????
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Indulgence
Giving http://sundayscribblings.blogspot.com/ participation another go as part of an effort to exercise my writing discipline. The prompt this week is 'indulgence'.
The majority of my adult life, aside from a few notably unexpected windfalls, I've barely gotten by financially. I wouldn't have described myself as poor - poor is when there isn't enough money for even the barest necessities of food and shelter (though there were MOMENTS)- but it was most often more have not than have. You learn to get by though and making do or doing without becomes as natural as being either right handed or left or having brown eyes and hair when red hair and green eyes is what you find striking. You not only accept getting by but find blessing in it - $3 grocery sacks stuffed with 'like new' newborn size baby clothes from a garage sale, bakery thrift store bread 5 loaves for a mere buck, re-tread tires, junk store lamps with working bulbs already in them. You develop a disdain for the folly of those who succumb to the marketing and advertising ploys of retail stores.
Anything not an absolute necessity becomes indulgence - the blue box of mac 'n cheese or the Big G or K marked cereal instead of the black and white generic packages, the full measure of sugar mixed with the envelope of dry powdered drink mix, 3 slices of bacon with eggs over easy on your plate instead of crumbled throughout a skillet of scrambled for the family, turning up the thermostat on a cold morning in January instead of putting on a sweatshirt or sweater.
Despite mandatory frugality I have consistently had one significant personal indulgence - magazines. I love, love, LOVE cottage/country decor and gardening magazines, craft and quilting magazines. Their colors, creativity and representations of texture and hominess totally seduce me. I keep them forever and spend hours upon hours escaping to beautiful surroundings there and finding inspiration for tweaking junk store and yard sale treasures to appear as more than they are in the rooms I inhabit.
Exercising restraint , doing without or just making do trains you tough it out. It's a form of discipline, building of muscle. Too much indulgence and one grows soft, flabby. Distinction between want and need blurs. Not enough and I wonder if you lose the capacity to embrace pleasure for yourself, or maybe, you have a greater appreciation. I know many women who routinely have their nails 'done'. I have had two professional manicures in my entire life, once for my oldest son's wedding and a second time for a family reunion. I felt like royalty both times! Would it have affected me so if it were 'routine'? I'm sure not. But, should I ever win the lottery and become able to - manicures, and a pedicure perhaps now and then, will be on my list of regular indulgences.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
WTJ - Week 6
Ebb and flow...maybe I ought to find a pic to insert of waves flowing onto and receding from the sand as an expression of my journal mood for this post. I didn't make a post for Week 5 - not that there was NOTHING done in my journal that week but it was pretty neglected to be honest. I have excuses - expected my Sweetie home for the July 4th weekend and was focussed on preparing for his homecoming and then when I was even later preparing a post for Week 5 than I had been for Week 4, it just seemed logical that rather than appearing late it would be better to just skip it and combine Week 5 and Week 6 and look on top of it for this week. (chuckle) Amusing isn't it that even with all this exercise in releasing perfectionism, I'd still be concerned with manipulating the 'appearance' of control?
After the week of mostly neglected wrecking workouts, and the coming and going of my Sweetie, I found myself (and I JUST realized today the state I'm in) hungrily desiring INTIMACY. And I'm ravenous - like I'd come off a 2 week severely restricted diet starving for a piece of cheesecake, a loaded baked potato and a medium rare 12 oz. ribeye or a roasted turkey with all the trimmings. I've bounced around through the pages of my journal - starting and stopping on this page and then another, and another, and another - not finding satisfaction. Part of it is I know, having signed up and received a favorite page swap partner (waves hello below the table to Kirby3131) I'm going to be sending a page away...a favorite...and a part of me is feeling a strong kick of inadequacy (What if she thinks my 'favorite' is pretty lame? I really, REALLY like my current favorite but it's no work of 'art' by any means...and I probably could come up with something better if I try. But then, if I'm really trying and I DO do something fabulous I really LOVE and am proud of - could I give it to a stranger????)
Soooooo...I have a number of pages 'in progress' but my dialogue with myself the last couple days as I've bounced about and explored some options in expression has me convinced I can't turn back or stand still. I'm evidently either at a dead end (which I can't fathom or accept - I'm too restless and needy/wanting) - a T-intersection, a cross road, up the ladder to the high dive or even poised at the open cabin door of a plane with a chute on my back...
Soooooooo - this was my AHA! (smacks self on forehead "But, OF COURSE!") what my sign says page...
And here, just to prove I've been doing something ;), are a couple other pages for variety...
Coloring outside the lines:
And Doodling:
After the week of mostly neglected wrecking workouts, and the coming and going of my Sweetie, I found myself (and I JUST realized today the state I'm in) hungrily desiring INTIMACY. And I'm ravenous - like I'd come off a 2 week severely restricted diet starving for a piece of cheesecake, a loaded baked potato and a medium rare 12 oz. ribeye or a roasted turkey with all the trimmings. I've bounced around through the pages of my journal - starting and stopping on this page and then another, and another, and another - not finding satisfaction. Part of it is I know, having signed up and received a favorite page swap partner (waves hello below the table to Kirby3131) I'm going to be sending a page away...a favorite...and a part of me is feeling a strong kick of inadequacy (What if she thinks my 'favorite' is pretty lame? I really, REALLY like my current favorite but it's no work of 'art' by any means...and I probably could come up with something better if I try. But then, if I'm really trying and I DO do something fabulous I really LOVE and am proud of - could I give it to a stranger????)
Soooooo...I have a number of pages 'in progress' but my dialogue with myself the last couple days as I've bounced about and explored some options in expression has me convinced I can't turn back or stand still. I'm evidently either at a dead end (which I can't fathom or accept - I'm too restless and needy/wanting) - a T-intersection, a cross road, up the ladder to the high dive or even poised at the open cabin door of a plane with a chute on my back...
Soooooooo - this was my AHA! (smacks self on forehead "But, OF COURSE!") what my sign says page...
And here, just to prove I've been doing something ;), are a couple other pages for variety...
Coloring outside the lines:
And Doodling:
First Thing In the Morning
My morning coffee is 'just right' when, with creamer added, its color is almost the same as the paint on the family room wall someone with the job of naming color for its manufacturer dubbed 'warm cocoa'.
I used to be a primitive coffee drinker - black and hot was sufficient. Somewhere along my career in morning caffeine consumption I added milk and then graduated to cream, half and half. I still don't get the added sugar so many I know gotta have - in fact, I often forget when serving coffee to others to even put it out.
Further along the line of my development, I got sucked in by the fancy, schmancy flavored coffee creamer names, probably after having been seduced by just one too many coffee beverages at one of those upper price point coffee bars. I've tried numerous - and by now probably wouldn't be quite so adverse to a spoon or two of sugar in a 'regular' coffee seeing as how those flavored creamers do have some glucose/fructose of some variety in most of them. I love toffee-this and caramel-thats and, of course, anything mocha or chocolate-y is highly regarded, but my staple coffee additive is vanilla nut. (I won't mention the brand name - not my intention to promo their label, but if someone reading is looking for a paid product endorsement I could use some supplemental income - wink*, wink*) I don't know what kind of nut the flavor is supposed to impart to the taste buds (the label illustration looks like a walnut) and there isn't one mentioned in the ingredients, leading me to believe it's an artificial combo/blend of chemicals resembling some nutty flavor. Thank God for chemistry!
Before I even take the first sip of my morning brew it delights me as the brewed coffee stirs up the creamer I've poured first into the bottom of the mug with a scent that makes me think of cake - white cake frosted with thick buttercream frosting. MMMmmmmm! DEEEEE-LISH!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
