July 21, 2009
Talk about a small town! This is Odell, IL along Route 66. I took these pictures on a road trip a couple weeks ago. I wonder what they do for fun in this tiny town. C
Quiet grain mill
side of the grain mill
Saturday afternoon traffic
Goin' to the store--wondering who was taking pictures of the grain mill
March 2, 2009
Wow–Monday is tough. Not only are we back to work on a cold, snowy morning, the economy worsens, another of my friends has lost a job, another house in the hood has not sold, and I have to pay bills with a knot inside as the dow drops yet again.
I try to move forward, keep my spirits up, knowing that today I have my family, my work, my home, my friends, my health, my hobbies–albeit much scaled back, potential for another project. But I will keep my world close, hold it tight, watch it carefully, and wait cautiously for the sun to rise again, the air to warm, the ground to bloom in tiny swells and hope, hope, hope.
Sometimes the view from the rear of the boat is more glorious than the front. We move unknowingly to the back, then sometimes we huddle there–dance amongst friends, laugh with strangers, sing with ourselves, and wait watching, together, as the changes abound.
We will hope for the mundane, maybe see the wonderous. But we will see it together, smiles and tears blended into the waters below.
C
February 25, 2009
Riding on a ship with no land in sight, surrounded by the turquoise blue then steel-grey waves, a watchful warming sun and swiftly moving breezes, we saw no land for twenty-four hours.
Gazing over the endless waters, an occasional ship in the far off distance, that ride made me think about how truly small we physically are. A speck. Of no significance. Flick this boat like a fly and we disappear.
But I turn away from the waters, towards my group of friends, for the final day of the trip still laughing, joking, dancing, swimming, sitting, reading, sharing, sleeping. Truly joyful, as we live in each moment, strangers picking up our energy and sharing it with their groups, passing it around.
And I realize that while we may be miniscule in the view from the clouds, in our small sectors, with our friends and family and fears and lusts and mysteries and goals and wonders, we do have an impact, we do love, we do have a reason to be, to laugh, to cry. Our spirits, when we share them, are wider than the oceans, taller than the clouds.
And we should be so thankful, and are so lucky when we can experience freedom with the ones we love most. Thanks girls, for another amazing holiday. C
February 18, 2009
What do our dogs think, as we go through our daily routines and family growth and contractions and changes? I wonder it often, as Zoe follows me around the house, wanting to go on every car ride, every walk, giving loving kisses when her family is sad. And Annie, as she ages (17 in two months!) does she still want to be here, with her creaking bones and slips on the stairs, but always the most gentle of creatures I know?
Zoe and fave toy
Annie and the snow
I just read an interesting novel called The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein, the entire story told from the dog’s point of view. Do they really have human thoughts as they watch TV with us, go on our physical and spiritual journeys, become part of our worlds as we age together?
The story itself is hopeful, heartbreaking, and honest. No spoilers here, you will have to indulge yourself in the story. It will be worth the journey. Can a dog tell a story that isn’t true, without embellishments? I doubt it. I have no interest in auto racing, but I found the parallels in the driver stories and life to be fitting, and they kept my interest throughout.
Some of the quotes made me think about my life, and how I need to step up to more challenges:
“There is no dishoner in losing the race,” Don said. “There is only dishonor in not racing because you are afraid to lose.”
Wow–how many times do we NOT take the chance because we are afraid to lose? Or become complacent in what we know. We can only grow and learn and experience by trying.
And from Enzo, the dog,
“Inside each of us resides the truth,” I began, “the absolute truth. But sometimes we believe we are viewing the real thing, when in fact we are viewing a facsimile, a distortion….”
The post dedicated to my friend Kerry and her Lab friend Gracie, who just left us.
C
February 9, 2009
When I first began this blogging journey, I did not know where this odyssey would lead. 100 posts later (a surprising realization this morning), the path has been like those I traverse with my dogs–well travelled at times, quiet at others, smooth, then bumpy, then twists with comments and direction from family, friends, strangers, authors, and others; sometimes happy-others frustrated or angry or bored, perhaps not consistent in tone but consistent in honesty.
I hope you will continue to join me on my quest, with words and poems and photos and laughs and tears, as I search through the grayness, searching for light and hope and wonder and surpirse of the amazing simplicity and complexity around me.
I understand this blogging more than facebook, and welcome the comments of many, where people I never really knew don’t have to be my fake friends, but only have true thoughts–even as they disagree with me, no cyber-snubs here.
It only seems fitting to end with random but loved photos, taken by me. Happy post 101!
sleeping beach chairs
after hours
C
February 2, 2009
For those who asked me what to do in San Diego, it is a candy store of adventure: playlands, beaches, shopping and phenomenal sunsets for those who seek it. The entire western border of beaches, tidepools, dolphins riding waves with surfers unending beauty itself.
We stayed in a lovely condo in Oceanside, about 40 miles north of San Diego, right on the beach. My son and several of his cousins ventured with the dads to Legoland–as Bob calls it “Crack for Kids.” Being the Legomaniac, he was obsessed. Kids over 12 might be bored, but the younger set can play for hours with the legos, ride the rides, see the amazing Lego exhibits.
Everything was set for the Lego innauguration.
You could spend each day at a different park, with an unending budget–which we did not have. We made the right choice and spent the day at San Diego Wild Animal Park, since there is nothing like that around here. On the tour around the park you feel like you are seeing the animals in the natural habitats, as you learn about how many are endangered or almost lost from civilization. All the kids and adults loved it!
There were also mini-habitats for birds and monkeys. And fun (shhh..they’re educational) programs.
The older girls wanted to shop, shop–ick. But they found a couple stores in La Jolla to spend their money in, after I made them hike in Torrey Pines State Reserve. Not the most spectacular place I have hiked, but pretty enough, with relatively easy, but hilly 1 hour hikes.
jumping tide pools
But even with all the explorations we did, the kids really wanted to just head to the beach and play in the sand, find shells and rocks, jump the waves, grab the waves, play volleyball, and hang out with each other and us.
We adults looked forward to the evening sunsets on the deck, drinks in hand, an array of food and cameras spread on the table.
sand time!
view from the deck!
January 28, 2009
Where do I live? In a lovely home, in a neighborhood that still stuns me I live in it everytime I walk Zoe, surrounded by lakes (some manmade), wetlands part of my property and encroaching further onto the yard–err, football field, soccer field, dog training area, volleyball court, artist studio, calming edifice, bonfire home–whatever it happens to be at the moment.
Nature reclaiming its own. I often wonder if we left for 10 years and no one touched my mostly native gardens or yard, what would my property look like? What critters would make my house their own, first creeping in through crevices and someday open door, swinging in the elements? I can take a guess, based on some of the animals have seen this winter.
The young buck, sauntering through our yard, pawing at the now-fallen apples in the yard, who acts as if he owns the place. After several week’s disappearance, he will reappear, majestic and sure. And if we don’t see him, his tracks are the first in the morning snow, looking like an early-morning skiier left them.
There is the tiny, dark grey field mouse that hunkers down under the bird feeder,gnawing and shivering, hiding under nearby evergreen branches as we approach. We send the dogs to chase the fattened squirrels, who fight with the many birds for the seed and bread we daily leave. Cardinals, robins (even in winter), finches, singing wrens abound, a woodpecker hammering at the eaves.
And in the darkness, the coyotes have made their plaintive nightly calls, sometimes a lonesome howl, sometimes the eerie party noises when they have made some kill in our yard. Haunting, but beautiful, it runs chills through me everytime.
I may own my home, but the animals own the area– though they change with the seasons. I hope it stays that way. C
January 20, 2009
The pier in Oceanside is the longest wooden pier in California. We attempted to eat at the diner that sits at the very end of the pier, but we balked at 1 1/2 hour wait. But we strolled to the end, watching fisherman of all ages and colors, the kids stunned as one person caught–and kept–a large starfish. A lone sea lion entranced, playing amongst the supports, and there were pelicans just hanging around, waiting to be fed. They should have had a bucket to collect funds.
But be careful who you feed!
C
January 19, 2009
What a way to energize in the morning, as you meditate, exercise, lose yourself, find yourself, forget yourself
waiting for the perfect wave with the dolphins circling and then catching your wave,
then as the evening approaches, an explosion of colors
morphing into cotton candy clouds
another sun-kissed day. C
January 18, 2009
If this were a sitcom, no one would believe this to be realistic. But we laughed so hard, I know it happened to me. All 16 of my immediate family members are on vacation in lovely Oceanside CA, for my mom’s 70th birthday. Oceanside is a large surf town, about 38 miles of San Diego, the outdoors much more beckoning in winter than Chicago.
To remember the occasion, we decided to hire a professional photographer to freeze our families at this moment in our lives. Now, I was not sure why we needed to do this, as we have a number of competent photographers in the family, and the several times we have done this before the photos have been forced and unrealistic depictions of us. There is a reason why I have NEVER taken my children for formal portraits; I enjoy my candids so much more.
In hindsight though, this might have been a good idea (though I won’t confirm until I see the final work), since we have too many art directors, too many opinions. Letting John the photographer be in charge let everyone relax.
Anyway, no one could have imagined all the bizarre happenings that occurred literally 20 minutes before he arrived, and as he scouted shooting locations.
First, a near meltdown as the tie on my daughter Devon’s shirt–a simple buttercup yellow ribbon, fell off and I had to re-sew it when I should have been in the shower. Seemingly simultaneously, a lens in Ronan’s eyeglass popped out, and Bob spent 15 minutes trying to repair it. Two workmen showed up to fix the hottub and toilet as we were headed out, and someone had to show them which rooms needed repaired. Two of the older girls went for a last minute snack and spilled a huge bowl of cut watermelon from the fridge onto the floor. As we were laughing but hurrying to clean up, my sister in law Karen announced her 10 year old son Jackson was throwing up! How long did she have to get him to the beach?
A trooper, Jackson recovered long enough to be carried to the beach and force a smile for an hour. Now the shirt is pinned, the glasses repaired, the toilet flushing, and the watermelon disposed of. Hopefully we will be rewarded with some excellent photos, to remember the funny day (Jackson may not want to remember).
More on vacation later. C
