Because we have sunsets like this. I know sunsets are lovely almost everywhere (especially at the beach), but watching the sun go down behind the Rocky Mountains, and waiting for the changing, remaining light, is a blessing that not everyone gets to see in their life. If we position ourselves properly, we get to see it every day. There’s a Jimmy Buffett song that is one of my theme songs – come now, don’t you have theme songs? admit it… this one is called “Hula Girl At Heart” and you can hear it here, and one of the lines is “she always sees the sun go down”. Since I’m by no means a morning person, I’m making seeing sunset as often as possible (and as often as possible with MKL) one of my life goals.

IMG_4447

Lyons, Colorado.

Quote of the day: “You can never replace anyone because everyone is made up of such beautiful specific details.” — Julie Delpy

Daily gratitudes:
A single peony from MKL
Actually figuring out some electronic connection (even though I don’t know how I did it)
A quest for the perfect vintage hat
Making it from bed to bus in 19 minutes this morning
Sugar-free Red Bull

I have been making a point of – literally – stopping to smell the flowers lately. Coming home from Job #3 on Saturday, I stopped by the creek and listened to the water and the birds, and watched the sunset. I’ll share pictures. Yesterday, MKL and I went to the car show (he’s a total car guy) and I’ll share pictures from there. And today, getting off the shuttle, I stopped to smell the peonies on the corner of 16th and Wynkoop, and caught this picture. And wanted to share it with you.

I suffered a loss today, a professional loss, and I was interested to see how hard I took it. As I told MKL over lunch, I found myself in my head doing exactly what I did at other significant losses – the deaths of my parents, my best friend, my dogs – in which I kept thinking, “Maybe if I do this, I can fix it.” Of course, that’s not possible. It’s magical thinking (and not in the good way), which I know I’m prone to. But it was a small piece of enlightenment about myself, and a realization of what a deep personal, emotional, investment I have in the projects I work on for my company. It’s something to think about.

20150609_123038

Denver, Colorado.

Quote of the day: “The little boy nodded at the peony and the peony seemed to nod back. The little boy was neat, clean and pretty. The peony was unchaste, dishevelled as peonies must be, and at the height of its beauty.” — Robertson Davies

Daily gratitudes:
The scents of summer
Infinitely changing skies
Old couples holding hands
That Anastasia Fawni got second place in her very first ever drag competition
That peonies bloom amongst the bricks and mortar of the city

A lot of us spend a lot of time at our desks. At work. And we all have different decorating styles when it comes to cubeland.  One colleague has lovely pictures of her family. Another thrives in a simplistic, uncluttered environment. Yet a third has added fake plants and a bright green and white striped carpet (we call her cube “Lupe’s Lanai”, even though her name is not Lupe – but it could have been).

My space is definitely busy. Plants, a few random stuffed animals, some dried flowers that MKL has given me, and a wall-sized photo of Cow Wreck Beach. But when I’m not facing my double computer screens, and I turn and put my boots up on my file cabinet to ponder words yet unwritten, this is what I see. My little desk altar.

Desk altar
Denver, Colorado.

What’s here? My island-a-day calendar. A cobalt blue fish from MKL. A gull feather. One of my father’s handkerchiefs. A card from MKL. A stone with a dragonfly on it from one of our trips last year. A San Pellegrino bottle used as a vase. A picture (from the island calendar) taken from a place I’ve stood at Wormshead in Wales. And my favorite picture of my darling daughter. And some strange golden foam letters from our recent building remodel, that I can change into different nonsensical words. My little altar might be a little busy, but every item is special to me, and helps my brain clear and find the words I need.

Perhaps I can consider it a space in which to commune with Seshat, the Egyptian goddess of wisdom, knowledge, and writing. Or St. Francis de Sales (aka The Gentleman Saint), Patron Saint of Writers and Journalists. At any rate, it’s a little peaceful, a little inspirational, and a lot of me.

What does you desk altar look like?

Quote of the day: “If a cluttered desk is a sign of a cluttered mind, of what, then, is an empty desk a sign?” — Albert Einstein

Daily gratitudes:
An unexpected hillside of cornflowers
Thunder and lightning
The House of Eliott
Mr. Man’s roly-poly stoner behavior on catnip
My truck

Iris seem to be the thing these days here in our Never Summerland otherwise known as Colorado. They are blooming late, but they, along with the poppies and the occasional peony are blooming. Storms come and go. Mr. Man is still thinking outside the box, which is frustrating, since all of his tests (and x-rays and ultrasounds) have come back looking stellar. So I am trying to join him in his thought process, and am planning to create a slate “throne” for him. We’ll see if that helps.

Another Iris

Berthoud, Colorado.

Quote of the day: “One of the secrets of a happy life is continuous small treats.” —  Iris Murdoch

Daily gratitudes:
The light after a storm
Yesterday morning’s full moonset
The grape-scented iris that Carrie brought me
The big man skipping through Sam’s Diner with the little girl today
The light in MKL’s eyes when he looks at me

It was a beautiful morning today. The rainy weather provided as Kelsea’s graduation present is taking a little break. The Triangle Building is going up next door to the building in which I write for a living, and it’s really cool. My co-worker Christine and I have supervised every scoop of earth, cable laid, beam positioned, and glass panel installed from our upstairs window. We think we did a splendid job, don’t you?

Beautiful Day
Denver, Colorado.

Quote of the day: “The three facets of the great writer — magic, story, lesson — are prone to blend in one impression of unified and unique radiance, since the magic of art may be present in the very bones of the story, in the very marrow of thought…Then with a pleasure which is both sensual and intellectual we shall watch the artist build his castle of cards and watch the castle of cards become a castle of beautiful steel and glass.” — Vladimir Nabokov

Daily gratitudes:
A goose resting comfortably on the roof of an SUV
Red-winged blackbirds
The elderly waiter at the Broker
Reservations for Cottonwood Hot Springs
My friend Pam’s wonderful new job for which she is perfect!

You are perhaps wondering why you are reading a blog with a picture of a parking lot. There are two reasons tonight. The first is because I believe in seeing beauty in everything – even the light cast in the darkness of a parking lot, catching the glint of a stream of still puddles. The second is because parking has been a significant issue in the life of my darling daughter throughout her last two years of high school, since she’s been driving. Her school offers rather elitist parking alternatives. Either pay to park in the senior lot (but only if you’re a senior) or park along the 1.5 mile stretch of road alongside the school grounds, which are situated in the middle of a nice neighborhood. She’s a bit of a socialist (like me) and believes it’s wrong to have to pay to park in the lot of a school that you’re attending, and particularly unfair since not everyone has the financial means to do so. Which leaves her with free on-street parking. Needless to say, this free parking is only parallel parking (which even at my age is a nearly impossible challenge) and spots anywhere near the school fill up incredibly early. So for the past two years, I have received texts in the morning that say things like “I had to park in Nebraska and it will take me three hours to walk to class. Do I have to go to school today?” or “Everyone is stupid.” or “I. Can’t. Even.”

This image is not of that parking area. This image is of a spacious parking area that represents freedom and possibilities and how light can shine from the darkness, and that there are places where parking is not a struggle. In other words, today was my darling daughter’s last day of high school, and she will never again have to endure the frustration of parking along Greenbriar Boulevard. And she is to me a shining light that will brighten the future for more people than she will ever know.

Parking Lot - 2

Quote of the day: “My turn shall also come:
I sense the spreading of a wing.”  — Osip Mandelstam

Daily gratitudes:
Dinner with Kelsea
That no one was hurt when a car hit my bus this morning
How much Mary Roach’s books make me laugh
Chats with Christine
That my Texas friends in Runaway Bay survived the tornado with minimal damage

IMG_4194

It was a rainy day in Washington. I had gotten a speeding ticket, was lost, and my phone was dead. I went into a gas station, found a map, and brought it to the counter. The young man looked at it and our dialogue was as follows:

Young Man:: You wanna buy that?
My thought: Why else would I have brought it to the counter?
My response: Yes. How much is it?
Young man: 55 dollars.
My thought: You’re flipping kidding me. (I might have thought a stronger “F” word.)
My response: Excuse me?
Older Man Standing Behind Young Man: I think that’s five dollars.
Young Man: Why do you want that?
My thought and response: Because I’m lost and I need a map.
Young Man: Why don’t you just use your phone?
Thought/response: Because my phone is dead.
Older Man Standing Behind Young Man:  I can sell you a phone charger.
My escalated thought/response: I don’t want a phone changer. I want a map. Do you want to sell me this map? I just got here, and I don’t know where I am and I just got a speeding ticket and I’d like to buy this map.
Young Man: Where’d you get a speeding ticket?
Increasingly steaming brain/response: I don’t know where I got a speeding ticket because I DON”T KNOW WHERE I AM.
(They stare at me, waiting for clarification.)
Me (sighing): It was some long straight road with no signs telling me how fast I was supposed to be going.
They both nod and make sage-like, grunting sounds, and comment how troopers are always stopping speeders there.
Me: Can I just buy the map please?
Young Man: You really want this?
Me (in my most sinister, sarcastic, hissing, piratical tone): Yes, I really think I do.

I finally got my map. But I’m not quite sure what to think about Washingtonians.

Quote of the day: “A map says to you, read me carefully, follow me closely, doubt me not…I am the earth in the palm of your hand.” — Beryl Markham

Daily gratitudes:
My new cube backdrop of Cow Wreck (thanks to Christine, Elisa, and Walker Magnum)
That I found two apps that just play the sound of the ocean on my phone
That my darling daughter’s last day of high school is tomorrow
That MKL tells me that he loves how my eyes shine when I look at him
That Mr. Man seems to be feeling a little better (and that I have another idea about solving his ‘thinking outside the box’ issue

 

As I’ve no doubt mentioned several times, I have a tradition of reading the same book each spring. Since spring has been curiously delayed this year, no doubt having remembered some sudden and unavoidable appointment elsewhere, it has taken me a long time to finish my book this year. We have a week of rain, flood watches, and yes, even some potential snowflakes in the forecast, and I still have not reached the point in the book that makes me cry my eyes out in a sort of cleansing purge. The book is Anne of Green Gables,(go ahead, call me juvenile), originally published by L.M. (Lucy Maude) Montgomery in 1908. My copy is a little yellow paperback that I got some 40 years ago in a bookstore in Northgate Mall, a few blocks from my house. It was between a “This End Up” store and a store that sold fireplace implements and other impracticalities – from which I bought my brother a lovely Spanish sword for Christmas one year. (Thankfully, he never used it on me, though I’m sure he was mightily tempted.)

While I have read the other “Anne books”, this is the one that touches my spirit. The author has a way of weaving magic and beauty out of common images and words, even tweaking them to her own words when actually OED words just don’t suffice. I know I have a tendency to do that too, and that the way Anne sees the world is the way I see it: looking in nature and treasuring moments of beauty that are transitory yet everlasting in memory. L.M. Montgomery seems to capture all the hopes and dreams and sorrows and quiet joys of a young person’s future in her portrayal of Anne, and while I am not a “young person” chronologically, I have those same hopes and dreams and joys and sorrows, some now bittersweet memories and others anticipated with all the optimism of a teenager. And ll the enthusiasm of spring, when it finally throws off its cloak of gray and shows its true colors.

Anne of Green Gables

My version of the book is slightly shabby from numerous readings, has no copyright date, and isn’t even visible on Google images, and has a photo of a girl who someone at Tempo Books thought looked like Anne, but I disagree. I have my own vision, painted by L.M. Montgomery’s words, which is far more lovely and moontouched. And I highly recommend it if you need to bring a touch of spring and hope into your life.

Quote of the day:“Dear old world’, she murmured, ‘you are very lovely, and I am glad to be alive in you.” — L.M. Montgomery (of course)

Daily gratitudes:

And I keep my promises. These grow at the end of my alley, and I’m tempted to dig some up, divide them, and plant some in my yard, but I don’t know the people who they belong to, and truth be told (though most don’t believe me), I’m rather shy. Perhaps a midnight caper is in order…

Iris

Lafayette, Colorado.

Quote of the day: “With freedom, books, flowers, and the moon, who could not be happy?” — Oscar Wilde

Daily gratitudes:
Outlander
Small steps to recover the garden
A visit from Kelsea
Letting the cashier at Walmart rant because people are rude
Versaries

Our spring has been late and wet, and though our daffodils have come and gone, as have our tulips, our iris are starting to pop out, so I’ll see if I can’t share some of those with you tomorrow. While I have no garden this year, I do have a few pots of pretty things and right now, that is enough. Mr. Man is still not doing well, but the vet came today and took some blood, so we hope to have some answers shortly, and get him back on the road to happiness. We should all be on that road, don’t you think?

Daffodils

Portland, Oregon.

Quote of the day; “Love is the extremely difficult realization that something other than oneself is real.” — Iris Murdoch

Daily gratitudes:
Big fat raindrops and rumbling thunder
A vet who is simpatico
The pressure of a warm cat against my legs under the blanket
Baby geese
That MKL fixed my lawn mower

July 2015
M T W T F S S
« Jun    
 12345
6789101112
13141516171819
20212223242526
2728293031  

Archives

Make your life a little sweeter every day! Sign up for an email subscription to Seasweetie.

Join 1,347 other followers

wordpress stats
plugin
Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 1,347 other followers

%d bloggers like this: