Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
I gave up painting in the outdoor studio which had become a sauna and moved some stuff up to the porch which is at least in the shade all day. For any of you not familiar with the PNW weather we are a temperate climate and can expect a week or two of high temps in late July but not like this. This is just stupid weather assuming that weather could in any way be considered intelligent that is.
I am so very grateful that it cools off so much at night. In Phoenix the high concrete, asphalt ratio made evening cool down a quaint theory. You couldn't sit on the cement steps without burning your behind off. A primary concern in everyone’s mind during the summer months was the fear of a car accident in which you were thrown from the vehicle onto the molten hot asphalt only to lie there helpless and in agony. That fear of course came after the scorching antics of getting into your super heated metal oven of a vehicle and trying to drive it without actually touching anything. And yes, it is true; you can actually fry an egg on the sidewalk. It is a rite of passage for all Desert Rat children.
So you see I have earned my right to whine because I have already done my time. The year it hit 125 degrees Sky Harbor airport shut down because as it was revealed later, they had never actually tested the airplanes for those temperatures. They never expected to have to fly in them. The catch is that for the rest of us running around in that heat back then it just “seemed a little hotter” that day. Nothing special, just a little hotter.
I guess I have a different perspective on the weather. I am still making up for a lot of hot dry years in the desert. I don’t want to be cheated out of a pleasant 75 degrees with the occasional rain to water my plants. I don’t want to have to think about planting decorative gravel instead of grass or cacti instead of fuchsia. I already had that. I want lush cool greens like they promised me when I crossed the border and they handed me my complimentary latte` and rain gear. Apparently I need frequent watering.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
For a few years when I was quite young we traveled the U.S. back roads and towns. Small towns and farm communities, we stayed in some, just passed through others. We ate in diners and greasy spoons, shopped in five and dimes and mom and pop stores, while I took in
Now when you think of it how many actual working weather vanes do you see anymore? Progress is a wonderful thing but there is a melancholy that comes with saying goodbye to the past, to our youth. That would be the thorn that touched my heart when I came across the bridge party. It gave me comfort and hope to see that those things still exist even when they seem to disappear.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Monday, July 20, 2009
This is no way to eat popcorn. I discovered this truth midpoint between my fingertips and the tile.
Here lie the remains of my previous beloved popcorn bowl nestled amidst the lavender, alyssum and poppies. This one was actually the cat's fault. No, really it was!
Tomorrow I plant some plants and consider the existential construct of societal norms and bonds within the world wide web. I'll either come up with something profound or do a really good job of fertilizing the plants. Later I will work on my rain dance.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
The weekend for us started on Friday, Thursday night to be accurate. So Friday and Saturday were the weekend we had no plans. We had no plans and we didn’t care. It was our anniversary. It has been some time now since we stood solemn and nervous in a field of wild flowers and towering aspen.
This anniversary night we spread a blanket on the back lawn and looked out into the night sky. A few shooting stars streaked across the black and mocked the satellites that plodded along. We talked and laughed together, much like any other day, much like any day of any year past. It wasn’t a special day, our anniversary. It was another day. Another day in a long happy satisfying string of days that make up the long line of days and years we have spent together.
We did not go out to dinner. We did not give one another gifts or cards. Instead we laughed about our lack of certainty of the date, about how we seem to forget it every year. I forget one year he forgets another. Sometimes we both forget and remember days after. And do we care? No.
I don’t care because he still calls me during the day when he has nothing to say. He likes to make my coffee in the morning. I make him laugh when he takes himself too seriously and especially when I take myself too seriously. He gives me diamond earrings for Father’s day…the twenty-somethingth Fathers day. I lay with him till he falls asleep though he goes to bed hours before I do. He leaves me little notes and I write back. And sometimes… he just looks at me. He looks at me like he did when he was 22 and the world was in front of him. He looks at me as though I were a bright and shining possibility. He looks at me and sees everything I ever wanted to be and he still believes.
There is no date on that. No special day when it counts more than the others. There is no gift wrap or Hallmark sentiment that comes after the entree. There is only that look in his eye after all these years. That look that tells me he truly knows who I am. That look that says he believes in me, even more than I believe in myself. For that I lie on a blanket in the backyard and look up to the heavens and thank God for this man. No gift wrap necessary.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
VIVA LA HORSE POO!