A few days before Christmas, in December of 2006, my little rescued mouse, Martha, gave birth to five babies. We didn't even know she was pregnant. On Christmas day, our cat, Dizzy, knocked her cage over. Fluff went everywhere, along with five tiny little squiggly pink babies. Martha hovered over the babies to protect them from the cat until we could get there to help her. We scooped her up (and her babies), gathered up her nest, put her cage back together, and put them back in their home. What a crazy surprise that was!
A few weeks before Christmas, 2006, John and I were awakened in the middle of the night. The cats were causing a commotion, so we got up to investigate. Our four cats (at the time) had a tiny little field mouse cornered and were very slowly, and very systematically, killing this poor little critter. So, we caught her, stuck her in a cage, gave her some food and water, and hoped for the best.
The next morning I looked in on this poor little mouse. She was exhausted from fighting for her life, but she was otherwise unscathed. I put my hand in the cage and offered her a cashew, and she very confidently came over to my hand and took the treat. In in the past when we've rescued mice from the cats, we've let the mouse recover from their ordeal for a few days, but we've always set them free. They were wild mice and preferred their freedom. This little mouse, though, she was different. Some people describe animals like her as being "old souls", she was definitely a very special little mouse.
She trusted me. She recognized my voice after only a few hours and would come to me. She let me pet her, and care for her. She knew I wasn't going to hurt her. She had decided that this whole living in a cage with food and water gig was a pretty sweet deal. She immediately settled in and made a nice little nest out of the toilet paper I had given her. This was her new home, and she was content. She loved her little wheel, she loved her little wooden box I had given her. She was instantly my new pet, she had made the decision for me that I would keep her.
And then she had babies. I estimated they were born on December 21, 2006. Since mice grow so quickly, it was easy to determine their age from pictures I found on the internet. We named momma mouse, Martha, and her five babies were Bear, the only boy, and Angel, Tiny, Bella and Sweetie, the girls. Bear went to live in his own cage when he was about 6 weeks old, but Martha and her girls all lived together in the same cage until Martha died in the fall of 2008.
I still have two of Martha's babies, two girls. Sweetie and Bella. They're very old, they just turned four last week. They've slowed down a lot, they no longer run on their wheel. I usually find them asleep, cuddled together in a pile of fluff. Twice a day I'll wake them up and hand them cashews, their most favorite treats. They very slowly take their treats and nibble them, then they curl up together and go back to sleep. This morning, Bella was sound asleep on her back, feet in the air, and Sweetie was sound asleep with her head on Bella's tummy.
When they were juveniles, they were a deep gray color. When they reached adulthood, their fur turned a gray/brown brindle color with a black undercoat. In the last few months, their fur has changed color again. They're now an amazing golden color. They've literally reached their golden years. They're beautiful.
It's been so amazing to know these little beings throughout their lives. They, and Martha, have taught me so much. They have likes and dislikes. They have good moods and bad moods. They are completely, without a doubt, sentient beings. When I wake them up to give them a treat, they look me in the eye. They see me, they know me. They know my voice, my smell, they know what I look like. They make me laugh, and, ultimately, they make me cry.
Happy Christmas my little mice, you've been a great gift.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Thursday, December 23, 2010
I'll find my way back to you, if you'll be waiting
I stopped on my way in this morning to watch the sunrise.
At the corner of 13th street and Clifton Street in Washington, DC, it's possible to see for miles. The City is pretty much in a basin, with the exception of a few hills (Capitol Hill being one of them). From this corner on 13th, facing South, the Capitol Building and the Washington Monument are visible. I've always wanted to stop here on my commute in to work and watch the sunrise, in the mornings the view can be spectacular.
So, this morning I pulled over. It's the last day of work before Christmas and my car pooler stayed home, so I seized the opportunity. I stopped, turned off the engine, and I sat. Tracy Chapman's song, "The Promise", was playing on my iPod. There was a woman dressed in a warm coat and yoga pants, jogging up and down and up and down the steep hill, very focused on her workout. A man, wrapped in a scarf and a wool coat, was rushing down hill on the other side of the street. I was the only one looking to the East, waiting for the sun.
It wasn't a particularly spectacular sunrise, there were no glowing streaks of light, no splashes of oranges and pinks, no bright glowing yellow disk burning my retinas. This morning, the sunrise was subtle. There was some cloud coverage that hid the horizon, although the Capitol and the Washington Monument were perfectly visible. I sat, and I waited, and the world brightened. Very quietly, very peacefully, brightened. The streetlights in the distance became less twinkling, then less visible, then disappeared altogether. The sky, what was visible of it, very slowly changed from charcoal grey, to a pale light blue. I had just witnessed another day beginning.
It was at that moment that I realized I was wrong. This sunrise was spectacular. Despite the colorlessness of it, the beauty was in it's subtly. Another day has been given to me. Another chance to learn, to love, to appreciate the wonders that surround me. This City is my home. This Country is my home. This Earth, this glorious Earth, is my home. I am alive. I am thankful for today.
Tracy Chapman - The Promise
If you wait for me
Then I'll come for you
Although I've traveled far
I always hold a place for you in my heart
If you think of me
If you miss me once in awhile
Then I'll return to you
I'll return and fill that space in your heart
Remembering
Your touch
Your kiss
Your warm embrace
I'll find my way back to you
If you'll be waiting
If you dream of me
Like I dream of you
In a place that's warm and dark
In a place where I can feel the beating of your heart
Remembering
Your touch
Your kiss
Your warm embrace
I'll find my way back to you
If you'll be waiting
I've longed for you
And I have desired
To see your face your smile
To be with you wherever you are
Remembering
Your touch
Your kiss
Your warm embrace
I'll find my way back to you
Please say you'll be waiting
Together again
It would feel so good to be
In your arms
Where all my journeys end
If you can make a promise
If it's one that you can keep
I vow to come for you
If you wait for me
And say you'll hold
A place for me
In your heart.
At the corner of 13th street and Clifton Street in Washington, DC, it's possible to see for miles. The City is pretty much in a basin, with the exception of a few hills (Capitol Hill being one of them). From this corner on 13th, facing South, the Capitol Building and the Washington Monument are visible. I've always wanted to stop here on my commute in to work and watch the sunrise, in the mornings the view can be spectacular.
So, this morning I pulled over. It's the last day of work before Christmas and my car pooler stayed home, so I seized the opportunity. I stopped, turned off the engine, and I sat. Tracy Chapman's song, "The Promise", was playing on my iPod. There was a woman dressed in a warm coat and yoga pants, jogging up and down and up and down the steep hill, very focused on her workout. A man, wrapped in a scarf and a wool coat, was rushing down hill on the other side of the street. I was the only one looking to the East, waiting for the sun.
It wasn't a particularly spectacular sunrise, there were no glowing streaks of light, no splashes of oranges and pinks, no bright glowing yellow disk burning my retinas. This morning, the sunrise was subtle. There was some cloud coverage that hid the horizon, although the Capitol and the Washington Monument were perfectly visible. I sat, and I waited, and the world brightened. Very quietly, very peacefully, brightened. The streetlights in the distance became less twinkling, then less visible, then disappeared altogether. The sky, what was visible of it, very slowly changed from charcoal grey, to a pale light blue. I had just witnessed another day beginning.
It was at that moment that I realized I was wrong. This sunrise was spectacular. Despite the colorlessness of it, the beauty was in it's subtly. Another day has been given to me. Another chance to learn, to love, to appreciate the wonders that surround me. This City is my home. This Country is my home. This Earth, this glorious Earth, is my home. I am alive. I am thankful for today.
Tracy Chapman - The Promise
If you wait for me
Then I'll come for you
Although I've traveled far
I always hold a place for you in my heart
If you think of me
If you miss me once in awhile
Then I'll return to you
I'll return and fill that space in your heart
Remembering
Your touch
Your kiss
Your warm embrace
I'll find my way back to you
If you'll be waiting
If you dream of me
Like I dream of you
In a place that's warm and dark
In a place where I can feel the beating of your heart
Remembering
Your touch
Your kiss
Your warm embrace
I'll find my way back to you
If you'll be waiting
I've longed for you
And I have desired
To see your face your smile
To be with you wherever you are
Remembering
Your touch
Your kiss
Your warm embrace
I'll find my way back to you
Please say you'll be waiting
Together again
It would feel so good to be
In your arms
Where all my journeys end
If you can make a promise
If it's one that you can keep
I vow to come for you
If you wait for me
And say you'll hold
A place for me
In your heart.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
Coming in this morning, I saw a shooting star. It's always so amazing to me when I happen to be looking in the right direction at the exact moment that a meteorite shoots through the sky. The odds are against us that we see them. How many others are there, every night, that no one sees? Am I the only one who, for this brief moment, gave it's existence validation?
Years ago, I worked for a horrible place. We've all been there, I'm sure. It was the late-eighties, and I had thought that sexism was a topic of discussion for the history books. Wow, did I learn some life lessons at that place! It was a men's clothing manufacturer. It was run by men, for men. They did have a women's clothing line, too, but that was secondary. As were their women employees.
I'm not going to go into the details of why I left. While it was an influential lesson in my life, it's just not important anymore. It was incredibly traumatic while it was happening, but another event that occurred the day that I walked out, or rather stormed out (flipping everyone the bird as I did!), altered my life more. It's the day I learned who I am.
So, I quit that job. I said many choice words, I gathered my possessions, and I stormed out. I got in my car, a 1988 Chevy, and peeled wheels in the parking lot. I could not wait to get the hell away from that God awful place! I sped (have I mentioned how I like to speed??) down a little side road, turned onto a smaller side road, which eventually led me to my most favorite, and the most incredibly narrow, back road. I was pissed off and I was flying! Rounding blind corners, tires screeching, tears streaming down my face. I was pissed and I was determined to take it out on someone!! And then.....
For some reason, I stopped. I just stopped. A little voice, a little feeling I had....something just said to me, "stop". So I did. I took a few deep breaths, I rolled the windows down, and I realized it was a fantastic day. The sky was blue with fluffy white clouds, the trees were lush and green, and I did not have to go back to that horrible place anymore. The crushing weight I had been feeling was gone. I felt alive, and I was at peace.
I started driving again, very slowly. I was creeping along. I was smelling the air, I was drinking in the beauty of this crazy, winding, wooded back road. Suddenly, that horrible workplace seemed so completely insignificant. I slowly rounded a blind curve, and when the road straightened out on the other side, there was a deer standing in the middle of the road.
It was a larger female and she was beautiful. She was just standing there in the middle of the road, looking in my direction. It was as if she were waiting for me. I came to a complete stop and I turned off my engine. I sat there watching her, and she stood there, watching me. She very slowly turned her head and looked over her shoulder behind her, wiggled her ears, and a tiny little spotted fawn came out of the woods and stood next to her. This beautiful creature trusted me, she was showing me her baby. They both stood there, in complete silence, watching me. I sat, in complete silence, watching them. I was awestruck. Her soulful brown eyes were meeting my gaze, she was seeing my soul and I was seeing hers. It was spiritual. Her beautiful little spotted baby stood close to her. He touched her with his nose, looking for reassurance, and she touched him back. He was safe.
She tilted her head and wiggled her ears, and the two walked away, together, into the woods. This was their home, they had allowed me to witness them, living. Being. For this brief moment, they gave witness to my life, and I to theirs. It was magical. It was humbling.
These moments, these quiet, subtle moments, are all around us. All the time.
Years ago, I worked for a horrible place. We've all been there, I'm sure. It was the late-eighties, and I had thought that sexism was a topic of discussion for the history books. Wow, did I learn some life lessons at that place! It was a men's clothing manufacturer. It was run by men, for men. They did have a women's clothing line, too, but that was secondary. As were their women employees.
I'm not going to go into the details of why I left. While it was an influential lesson in my life, it's just not important anymore. It was incredibly traumatic while it was happening, but another event that occurred the day that I walked out, or rather stormed out (flipping everyone the bird as I did!), altered my life more. It's the day I learned who I am.
So, I quit that job. I said many choice words, I gathered my possessions, and I stormed out. I got in my car, a 1988 Chevy, and peeled wheels in the parking lot. I could not wait to get the hell away from that God awful place! I sped (have I mentioned how I like to speed??) down a little side road, turned onto a smaller side road, which eventually led me to my most favorite, and the most incredibly narrow, back road. I was pissed off and I was flying! Rounding blind corners, tires screeching, tears streaming down my face. I was pissed and I was determined to take it out on someone!! And then.....
For some reason, I stopped. I just stopped. A little voice, a little feeling I had....something just said to me, "stop". So I did. I took a few deep breaths, I rolled the windows down, and I realized it was a fantastic day. The sky was blue with fluffy white clouds, the trees were lush and green, and I did not have to go back to that horrible place anymore. The crushing weight I had been feeling was gone. I felt alive, and I was at peace.
I started driving again, very slowly. I was creeping along. I was smelling the air, I was drinking in the beauty of this crazy, winding, wooded back road. Suddenly, that horrible workplace seemed so completely insignificant. I slowly rounded a blind curve, and when the road straightened out on the other side, there was a deer standing in the middle of the road.
It was a larger female and she was beautiful. She was just standing there in the middle of the road, looking in my direction. It was as if she were waiting for me. I came to a complete stop and I turned off my engine. I sat there watching her, and she stood there, watching me. She very slowly turned her head and looked over her shoulder behind her, wiggled her ears, and a tiny little spotted fawn came out of the woods and stood next to her. This beautiful creature trusted me, she was showing me her baby. They both stood there, in complete silence, watching me. I sat, in complete silence, watching them. I was awestruck. Her soulful brown eyes were meeting my gaze, she was seeing my soul and I was seeing hers. It was spiritual. Her beautiful little spotted baby stood close to her. He touched her with his nose, looking for reassurance, and she touched him back. He was safe.
She tilted her head and wiggled her ears, and the two walked away, together, into the woods. This was their home, they had allowed me to witness them, living. Being. For this brief moment, they gave witness to my life, and I to theirs. It was magical. It was humbling.
These moments, these quiet, subtle moments, are all around us. All the time.
Monday, December 13, 2010
If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice
I haven't blogged in a while. Again. Actually I suppose I shouldn't be too hard on myself, I've only been doing the blog thing for three weeks. I am, though, disappointed with myself that I'm not blogging every day. I'm a little bit obsessive/compulsive and a little bit perfectionist, which is not a great blogging personality. If it's not good by my standards, I don't want to post it. I really need to go back to the promise I made to myself years ago.... write it down. Just record it. It may not be poetic, it may not be Pulitzer prize material, but it's me. That should be worth something.
So, I'm wandering aimlessly again. My life will gain focus in fits and starts, and off I go....and then I'll lose it as quickly as it was gained. It's not for lack of motivation, or lack of interest, but more because life is just so darn overwhelming. A few years ago a very dear friend said of me, "You feel everything". She's right. Someone else's pain is my pain. My pain is my pain. Hell, I cried when I saw a tree on fire, I could feel the sadness. I just feel. Sometimes it's just too much.
It begs the question for me, would I be better off not feeling? Would I turn off feeling if I were able? I've known people over the years who seemed callus, or harsh, or unfeeling, and they appeared happy as clams. Narcissistic clams. Now, 20 years later, they're still the same harsh, selfish people I used to know. While I find myself a very different person now, for better or worse, those happy clams are still, for the most part, happy clams. Adding a very important caveat, these same people have also appeared to me to be in need of some heavy duty therapy. But who am I to judge? If it's working for them, well then Mazel Tov.
I envy them at times. Or, specifically, I envy the ability to turn it all off. They exist in a completely different world than I, and that world seems so simple. My ex-roommate said once, "I just gotta be me!", right before he stumbled down the street to a local bar, ran up a tab using our address, and then moved out the next week. I, being who I've always been, paid the tab. I guess we were both fulfilling our destinies, he, the happy clam, and me, the fixer of problems.
Thankfully, I still have a lot of growing to do, which I guess is the beauty (or curse) of feeling. I'm at a junction in my life, I have before me an infinite number of paths. It's not as simple as choosing "the road less taken", which is great in poetry (and one of my favorites!), it's a matter of keeping it going. It's about making a choice right now....and then right now....and then right now.... Each choice leads to a set of infinite choices, which leads to another set of infinite choices.... And this is life. Or, this is life as I see it. It's not one day at a time, it's one moment at a time. I chose to start writing a blog, then I chose to keep typing.... I may, I MAY make the choice to post it.
So, what was I saying? Oh yea, feeling. I feel too much. I've also been told that I think too much. Go figure.
So, I'm wandering aimlessly again. My life will gain focus in fits and starts, and off I go....and then I'll lose it as quickly as it was gained. It's not for lack of motivation, or lack of interest, but more because life is just so darn overwhelming. A few years ago a very dear friend said of me, "You feel everything". She's right. Someone else's pain is my pain. My pain is my pain. Hell, I cried when I saw a tree on fire, I could feel the sadness. I just feel. Sometimes it's just too much.
It begs the question for me, would I be better off not feeling? Would I turn off feeling if I were able? I've known people over the years who seemed callus, or harsh, or unfeeling, and they appeared happy as clams. Narcissistic clams. Now, 20 years later, they're still the same harsh, selfish people I used to know. While I find myself a very different person now, for better or worse, those happy clams are still, for the most part, happy clams. Adding a very important caveat, these same people have also appeared to me to be in need of some heavy duty therapy. But who am I to judge? If it's working for them, well then Mazel Tov.
I envy them at times. Or, specifically, I envy the ability to turn it all off. They exist in a completely different world than I, and that world seems so simple. My ex-roommate said once, "I just gotta be me!", right before he stumbled down the street to a local bar, ran up a tab using our address, and then moved out the next week. I, being who I've always been, paid the tab. I guess we were both fulfilling our destinies, he, the happy clam, and me, the fixer of problems.
Thankfully, I still have a lot of growing to do, which I guess is the beauty (or curse) of feeling. I'm at a junction in my life, I have before me an infinite number of paths. It's not as simple as choosing "the road less taken", which is great in poetry (and one of my favorites!), it's a matter of keeping it going. It's about making a choice right now....and then right now....and then right now.... Each choice leads to a set of infinite choices, which leads to another set of infinite choices.... And this is life. Or, this is life as I see it. It's not one day at a time, it's one moment at a time. I chose to start writing a blog, then I chose to keep typing.... I may, I MAY make the choice to post it.
So, what was I saying? Oh yea, feeling. I feel too much. I've also been told that I think too much. Go figure.
Friday, December 10, 2010
You can't always get what you want
Sometimes you just have to let things go. As much as it hurts, and as much as you want to fight to keep it from happening, some things can't be changed. Some people can't be changed.
I've been upset for a week now, trying to help a friend. I realized this morning, and it hit me like a ton of bricks, he doesn't want to be helped. It's that simple.
It's so hard not to help. That's what I do. I help friends, I help animals, I help friends' animals. It's who I am. So to let this one go....it's hard. I have to remind myself, it's not about me. It's about him, and this is what he wants.
So, I'll let this one go.
A poem I wrote in November of 1988. It's so appropriate for today.
The world is constantly changing
Spaces shifting
Grooves filling up
New grooves grow
Where do I go?
Places are forever moving
Lovers losing
People disappear
New people show
Where do I go?
Lovers leap
Off cliffs so deep
And nothing keeps
Them from the pains that grow.
A knife through the heart
What a start
To a man torn apart
From a world so well known.
Disappointment reigns
Pumps through veins
And drowns them from
The world they know.
Where do I go?
I've been upset for a week now, trying to help a friend. I realized this morning, and it hit me like a ton of bricks, he doesn't want to be helped. It's that simple.
It's so hard not to help. That's what I do. I help friends, I help animals, I help friends' animals. It's who I am. So to let this one go....it's hard. I have to remind myself, it's not about me. It's about him, and this is what he wants.
So, I'll let this one go.
A poem I wrote in November of 1988. It's so appropriate for today.
The world is constantly changing
Spaces shifting
Grooves filling up
New grooves grow
Where do I go?
Places are forever moving
Lovers losing
People disappear
New people show
Where do I go?
Lovers leap
Off cliffs so deep
And nothing keeps
Them from the pains that grow.
A knife through the heart
What a start
To a man torn apart
From a world so well known.
Disappointment reigns
Pumps through veins
And drowns them from
The world they know.
Where do I go?
Sunday, December 5, 2010
I just believe in me.
I feel like I haven't blogged in weeks now, realistically it's only been a few days. Oh, how easy it is to fall out of habit! I've been suffering from writer's block, I quite possibly may have run out of things to say. (Gasp!) I'll just keep typing and I'll see where this one leads. I may have something to say after all.
It's three weeks before Christmas. I'm just not feeling it this year. I'm not really a Christian anyway, so Christmas for me isn't about the Virgin Mary giving birth to the world's Lord and Savior. I don't intend to sound mocking, there are people in the world who take Christianity very seriously and I respect them for their beliefs. I also respect those who take Judaism seriously, or Muslim, or Hindu, or Pagan, or to whatever belief system they subscribe. Whatever floats your boat. Or, in the immortal words of John Lennon, "Whatever gets you though the night".
This Wednesday, December 8, is the 30th anniversary of John Lennon's assassination. I was riding the school bus when I heard he had died, I was in the 9th grade. I cried, along with a few others on the bus that day. It was, and has remained, one of my saddest days. I grew up listening to The Beatles, John was always my favorite. Paul was always the cutie, but Lennon, he was the genius as far as I was concerned. His words resonated with an entire world of people. He bridged gaps. He communicated. He caused havoc, had protests and "bed ins". Some people loved him, and some people were terrified. I loved him. His words were amazing. They still bring me peace.
So, I'm going to end my blog today with the lyrics to John Lennon's song, "God". Since most people have heard his more mainstream songs, this is the one I'm chosing to include. It's not usually played on the radio, for obvious reasons, but it's a great song none-the-less. I encourage you to listen to it some day.
God is a concept,
By which we can measure,
Our pain,
I'll say it again,
God is a concept,
By which we can measure,
Our pain,
I don't believe in magic,
I don't believe in I-ching,
I don't believe in Bible,
I don't believe in Tarot,
I don't believe in Hitler,
I don't believe in Jesus,
I don't believe in Kennedy,
I don't believe in Buddha,
I don't believe in Mantra,
I don't believe in Gita,
I don't believe in Yoga,
I don't believe in Kings,
I don't believe in Elvis,
I don't believe in Zimmerman,
I don't believe in Beatles,
I just believe in me,
Yoko and me,
And that's reality.
The dream is over,
What can I say?
The dream is over,
Yesterday,
I was the dreamweaver,
But now I'm reborn,
I was the walrus,
But now I'm John,
And so dear friends,
You just have to carry on,
The dream is over.
It's three weeks before Christmas. I'm just not feeling it this year. I'm not really a Christian anyway, so Christmas for me isn't about the Virgin Mary giving birth to the world's Lord and Savior. I don't intend to sound mocking, there are people in the world who take Christianity very seriously and I respect them for their beliefs. I also respect those who take Judaism seriously, or Muslim, or Hindu, or Pagan, or to whatever belief system they subscribe. Whatever floats your boat. Or, in the immortal words of John Lennon, "Whatever gets you though the night".
This Wednesday, December 8, is the 30th anniversary of John Lennon's assassination. I was riding the school bus when I heard he had died, I was in the 9th grade. I cried, along with a few others on the bus that day. It was, and has remained, one of my saddest days. I grew up listening to The Beatles, John was always my favorite. Paul was always the cutie, but Lennon, he was the genius as far as I was concerned. His words resonated with an entire world of people. He bridged gaps. He communicated. He caused havoc, had protests and "bed ins". Some people loved him, and some people were terrified. I loved him. His words were amazing. They still bring me peace.
So, I'm going to end my blog today with the lyrics to John Lennon's song, "God". Since most people have heard his more mainstream songs, this is the one I'm chosing to include. It's not usually played on the radio, for obvious reasons, but it's a great song none-the-less. I encourage you to listen to it some day.
God is a concept,
By which we can measure,
Our pain,
I'll say it again,
God is a concept,
By which we can measure,
Our pain,
I don't believe in magic,
I don't believe in I-ching,
I don't believe in Bible,
I don't believe in Tarot,
I don't believe in Hitler,
I don't believe in Jesus,
I don't believe in Kennedy,
I don't believe in Buddha,
I don't believe in Mantra,
I don't believe in Gita,
I don't believe in Yoga,
I don't believe in Kings,
I don't believe in Elvis,
I don't believe in Zimmerman,
I don't believe in Beatles,
I just believe in me,
Yoko and me,
And that's reality.
The dream is over,
What can I say?
The dream is over,
Yesterday,
I was the dreamweaver,
But now I'm reborn,
I was the walrus,
But now I'm John,
And so dear friends,
You just have to carry on,
The dream is over.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow
Yup. I like snow. Actually, that's an understatement. I LOVE snow! Nice, big, fluffy, wet snow! The kind that falls so fast you can't see two feet in front of you. The kind that makes your feet soaking wet despite your best attempts at keeping them dry. Bone chilling, traffic stopping, run to the store for bread, milk and toilet paper SNOW! There, I said it. So, shoot me, I love this cold, wet gift from Nature!
Last year we had the most amazing snow storm ever. Three feet!! The first storm dumped about two feet, it took us days to dig ourselves out. Then the second storm hit and reburied our excavated driveway. We were stuck, and it was awesome! We slept in, cuddled on the couch, popped popcorn and watched movies. Can life be any better than a snow storm? I just keep putting my foot in my mouth, don't I? I know I'm about the only one who loves it, but I do.
It's probably not as much the actual snow that I love, but more the way the snow stops life. Our world screeches to a halt. No one can go anywhere, there's no traffic on the roads, the stores are empty. It's almost post-apocalyptic. Instead of rushing around, creating havoc, producing trash and pollution, people are in their homes with their families. Unless you hate your loved ones, I don't see how a week off from work is a bad thing!
Snow forces people to stay home, to slow down. We have no choice in the matter. Ironic, isn't it, that a speed freak like me wants the world to slow down? When I stop, when I take some time to look around and appreciate the scenery, I feel whole. There's nothing like sitting in the window watching the snow falling, blanketing the Earth, the trees, connecting all of nature with one, even coating of sparking, white fluff. Ok, and knocking out the power lines, but...whatever. I still love it!
So, that's my short and maybe not so sweet blog for today. Let it snow!
Last year we had the most amazing snow storm ever. Three feet!! The first storm dumped about two feet, it took us days to dig ourselves out. Then the second storm hit and reburied our excavated driveway. We were stuck, and it was awesome! We slept in, cuddled on the couch, popped popcorn and watched movies. Can life be any better than a snow storm? I just keep putting my foot in my mouth, don't I? I know I'm about the only one who loves it, but I do.
It's probably not as much the actual snow that I love, but more the way the snow stops life. Our world screeches to a halt. No one can go anywhere, there's no traffic on the roads, the stores are empty. It's almost post-apocalyptic. Instead of rushing around, creating havoc, producing trash and pollution, people are in their homes with their families. Unless you hate your loved ones, I don't see how a week off from work is a bad thing!
Snow forces people to stay home, to slow down. We have no choice in the matter. Ironic, isn't it, that a speed freak like me wants the world to slow down? When I stop, when I take some time to look around and appreciate the scenery, I feel whole. There's nothing like sitting in the window watching the snow falling, blanketing the Earth, the trees, connecting all of nature with one, even coating of sparking, white fluff. Ok, and knocking out the power lines, but...whatever. I still love it!
So, that's my short and maybe not so sweet blog for today. Let it snow!
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Instant Karma's gonna get you, gonna look you right in the face
So, once again, I'm sitting in front of a computer, blogging. I never thought I'd be sharing my brain with the general public. It's definitely a very scary proposition! Hopefully by now people are finding it enjoyable and aren't becoming bored with my words. I've heard from a few people that I'm making them cry, so I'll switch gears a little today. Hopefully, I'll make you laugh. We'll see.
In August of 2006, John and I took what we call our trip of a lifetime to celebrate our 40th birthdays. It actually started as a long weekend, and evolved into a 17 day trip to different parts of Europe. The first leg of our journey began in London, England. We had tickets to see the Rolling Stones "A Bigger Bang Tour" at the Twickenham Stadium, which is southwest of London.
The evening of the concert, John and I took "the tube" to the Richmond stop, then had to catch a bus to the stadium. It was a long journey, but we made it unscathed. We decided when we first walked through the gates to buy our tee shirts and souvenirs first, then we'd find our seats.
So we're standing in this brutal line, waiting to buy our items. It was mass chaos. Anyone who says that the Brits are civilized have never been to a Stones concert across the pond. People were pushing and shoving and cutting in line, it got to the point where there wasn't even really a line, it was just a mass of people, elbowing each other. Tempers flared. I'm Irish. It got ugly.
A British dude in a very expensive looking sherpa coat cut in line in front of me and literally pushed me out of his way. Then he shoved a boy who was standing in front of me, Dude just moved this kid over and got in line in front of him! Well, it's one thing to shove an adult, but don't you dare do that to a kid. I was PISSED!
I had a few choice words to say to Dude. He looked flabbergasted! He shot me a look like "who does this insane woman with the American accent think she's talking to?!" He copped a big attitude, said he was there first and I was mistaken. I turned on the "ugly American" and gave him hell. John was laughing by this point, he likes it when I get feisty. Well, long story short, after exchanging many not so nice words, Dude gave up, turned around, faced forward and ignored me. Everyone near us turned around. The "incident" with the ugly American was over. ...Or was it??
So, I'm standing behind Dude, by this point the kid had given up and left. Dude pretended that I wasn't there, he did his best to ignore my snide comments (did I mention that I was an ugly American??). Well, while this was going on, I realized that I had been really chomping down on my chewing gum and my jaw hurt, I needed to spit out the gum. I have bad gum Karma so I knew if I just threw it on the ground, I'd be the one to step on it. So, I looked around, trying to find a trash can or piece of paper. Then I had an epiphany....
Dude's nice, expensive sherpa coat. I can hear what you're thinking, "Oh no she didn't!" Well, oh yes she did!! I took the gum out of my mouth, waited a minute to make sure no one was looking, I gave John a little nudge, then I pushed the gum into the UNDERSIDE of Dude's coat. You know how sherpa's have that really nice fleece lining? Dude's now has gum ground into his! In the back! At the bottom! Did I mention that his coat was car length?! So when Dude sat down the gum more than likely stuck his coat to his pants!?!
OK, so I know it was wrong. I know it was childish. If I knew who he was or where he lived, I'd apologize. Ha, who am I kidding? No I wouldn't!! Dude completely deserved it!! I did feel bad afterward. I'm a big believer in Karma, I was worried this was going to come back to me three fold. When I told this to John, he said that me putting the gum in his coat was Karma. He said that Dude deserved it and that I was merely the conveyance of Karma. Thanks, honey, it's a nice thought.
So, the moral of the story. Don't mess with me when you're wearing your nice coat. ;-)
In August of 2006, John and I took what we call our trip of a lifetime to celebrate our 40th birthdays. It actually started as a long weekend, and evolved into a 17 day trip to different parts of Europe. The first leg of our journey began in London, England. We had tickets to see the Rolling Stones "A Bigger Bang Tour" at the Twickenham Stadium, which is southwest of London.
The evening of the concert, John and I took "the tube" to the Richmond stop, then had to catch a bus to the stadium. It was a long journey, but we made it unscathed. We decided when we first walked through the gates to buy our tee shirts and souvenirs first, then we'd find our seats.
So we're standing in this brutal line, waiting to buy our items. It was mass chaos. Anyone who says that the Brits are civilized have never been to a Stones concert across the pond. People were pushing and shoving and cutting in line, it got to the point where there wasn't even really a line, it was just a mass of people, elbowing each other. Tempers flared. I'm Irish. It got ugly.
A British dude in a very expensive looking sherpa coat cut in line in front of me and literally pushed me out of his way. Then he shoved a boy who was standing in front of me, Dude just moved this kid over and got in line in front of him! Well, it's one thing to shove an adult, but don't you dare do that to a kid. I was PISSED!
I had a few choice words to say to Dude. He looked flabbergasted! He shot me a look like "who does this insane woman with the American accent think she's talking to?!" He copped a big attitude, said he was there first and I was mistaken. I turned on the "ugly American" and gave him hell. John was laughing by this point, he likes it when I get feisty. Well, long story short, after exchanging many not so nice words, Dude gave up, turned around, faced forward and ignored me. Everyone near us turned around. The "incident" with the ugly American was over. ...Or was it??
So, I'm standing behind Dude, by this point the kid had given up and left. Dude pretended that I wasn't there, he did his best to ignore my snide comments (did I mention that I was an ugly American??). Well, while this was going on, I realized that I had been really chomping down on my chewing gum and my jaw hurt, I needed to spit out the gum. I have bad gum Karma so I knew if I just threw it on the ground, I'd be the one to step on it. So, I looked around, trying to find a trash can or piece of paper. Then I had an epiphany....
Dude's nice, expensive sherpa coat. I can hear what you're thinking, "Oh no she didn't!" Well, oh yes she did!! I took the gum out of my mouth, waited a minute to make sure no one was looking, I gave John a little nudge, then I pushed the gum into the UNDERSIDE of Dude's coat. You know how sherpa's have that really nice fleece lining? Dude's now has gum ground into his! In the back! At the bottom! Did I mention that his coat was car length?! So when Dude sat down the gum more than likely stuck his coat to his pants!?!
OK, so I know it was wrong. I know it was childish. If I knew who he was or where he lived, I'd apologize. Ha, who am I kidding? No I wouldn't!! Dude completely deserved it!! I did feel bad afterward. I'm a big believer in Karma, I was worried this was going to come back to me three fold. When I told this to John, he said that me putting the gum in his coat was Karma. He said that Dude deserved it and that I was merely the conveyance of Karma. Thanks, honey, it's a nice thought.
So, the moral of the story. Don't mess with me when you're wearing your nice coat. ;-)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)