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Showing posts from November, 2008

Cat's Cradle

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"Cat's cradle is a well known series of string figures. The name of the entire game, the specific figures, their order, and the names of the figures vary. Versions of this game have been found in indigenous cultures all over the world--from the Arctic to the Equatorial zones."* I don't know where the name "Cat's Cradle"comes from. I began to get a clue, however, when I woke up to find a ball of yarn strewn across two rooms. Undoubtedly a certain girl cat who had a way too much time on her paws was to blame. The evidence is circumstanial. I don't believe it would stand up in a court of law. But I know these black felines pretty well. The girl cat is not afraid to sniff around a bag of yarn when the lights are low and the house quiet. Boy cat might watch and egg her on, but there's no way he's brave enough to do the dirty work. Take a look for yourself and see what I mean. 1. Down the hall 2. Around the corner 3. Into the den 4. Onto the desk 5

Was it as good for you ????

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"Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it." William Arthur Ward Here we are, the day after Thanksgiving. As if the days of the year aren't already moving fast enough, the time from now to Dec. 31st is going to pass by like a snowball rolling downhill, picking up speed and extra snow as it goes. The time of the year that should be the most sacred, the most meditative goes by in a big blur of decorations, Christmas carols, too much food and too much stress. See, I've already moved beyond this post-thanksgiving day. I think yesterday may have been one of my most organized, best choreographed food fests. Okay, so the turkey was just a teeny tiny tad undercooked (I know - gag!) and the brownies were just that much overcooked. I think it all evened out in the end. Mostly the the family dysfunction that usually shows itself in all its glory at holidays was missing. I remember laughing not bitching. I remember lively conversation,

Giving Thanks

"There is a calmness to a life lived in gratitude, a quiet joy." Ralph H. Blum I think I get the "quiet joy" part of that quotation. Haven't quite perfected the calmness! It's the night before Thanksgiving. I've baked 3 pies, 4 loaves of pumpkin bread and a pan of brownies (which I forgot about until just now so they may be a tad overdone. I hope no one notices) today. As I write potatoes are boiling away before being smashed and buttered. Wow! That almost sounds like I'm organized. But I'm not going to jinx things by patting myself on the back just yet. I think I'll wait to do that after the burnt brownies have been served. I may be organized when it comes to making a gala feast, but shamefully I've been so busy baking that I haven't stopped long enough today to count my blessings. Even though I whine a lot, I know that I am blessed; perhaps in more ways than I deserve. I've read some really good gratitude blogs and letters today

Homework Assignment

"No day is so bad it can't be fixed with a nap." Carrie Snow I'm not usually very good with assignments. Like exercising or dieting, an assignment is something I know I should do, but before I get started on it, I have to dig in my heels and whine a little. Yesterday at our writing group Carol told us of a good workbook to help stimulate writing [How to Think Like Leonardo Da Vinci by Michael Gelb] One of the author's suggestions was to jot down 100 questions you have about your life. 100 questions in 30 minutes. 100 free associative questions that don't have to have answers at the moment. The whole point is to get the questions down on paper. We didn't have time for a hundred so Carol asked us to write down 5. Here are mine ... Why am I so angry? How can I get my $$$s in order? How can I be more compassionate in the face of fear? How can I get to Seattle and Key West more often? How can I get more sleep? Good Lord, a few more questions like that and I'

Mary the Fairy Hartmeyer

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" Spread your wings and let the fairy in you fly! " Author Unknown When I was a little kid we lived in Philadelphia. Just learning to talk I am told I had my own way of saying things - chish (fish), chork (fork) and chank (Frank) - sort of a combo of toddler and south Philly. Also, for some reason that has never been thoroughly explained to me, I dubbed myself "Mary the fairy Hartmeyer." I must have had a thing a young man named Hartmeyer who worked for my father. Go figure! Mary the Fairy was a name that stuck over the years. Not stuck as in "Swaying Sapling" but it had enough staying power that one of my personas is easily influenced by fairy paraphernalia. I went to my writer's group this morning. It felt good. I felt free; or at least on a longer leash. My sister was making breakfast for Dad. I left his "where are you going?" comment at the door. [Note to self: Maybe the gruffness of his voice has nothing to do with what he's saying.

Crayola Wisdom

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"No word in the English language rhymes with the color names orange, silver or purple." Crayola.com I've said it before and I'm sure I'll say it again. I love Reddi Arts. It's more than an artist's paradise of canvas, paint and brushes. There's a little bit of heaven for everyone who walks in the door. You want books? Reddi Arts has them. Not your every day, run of the mill, novels. Reddi Arts stocks books that speak to your spirit. The kind of book that cries out to you when you pick it up to scan the jacket, "take me home, you'll be glad you did." Reddi Arts is the place to go if you want a picture framed. Reddi Arts is a kaleidoscope of delight if you are a lover of anything that has to do with paper, pens, crayolas, paint, glue, ribbon, greeting cards, soap, stamps, and on and on. I love Reddi Arts! I think it's been a few months since I have been in the store. It's a dangerous spot for my pocketbook. But today I had to drop

The "C" word

"When you think about it, what other choice is there but to hope? We have two options, medically and emotionally: give up, or fight like hell." Lance Armstrong We've actually been saying cancer in our house for about a month. It was tentative at first. We've known the doctor was removing "spots," either by cauterizing or surgery. But each time I figured the cancer was gone. After the last surgery, the doctor pretty much assured us that the cancer was going to repeatedly return. It was time to consider a more drastic kind of treatment. That, or be prepared for surgery every few months. Neither option sounded good to me and I'm not even the patient. Today we got the rundown on the corresponding "C" word - chemotherapy. Because Dad's age and so-so health the optimal treatment of bladder removal is a no-go. Thus, Dad and the doctor agreed on a mild dose of chemo. I asked a lot of questions but basically I'm just along for the ride (and, I

Alls well that ends well

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I was strolling through the hardware store when my phone rang. Expecting it to be my Sweetie wanting something else from the plumbing aisle, I was surprised to hear a woman's voice. Thick with what I thought was a Spanish (but turned out to be German) accent the voice expectantly asked if I might have her dog. Remembering to be careful about who I turned the stray over to, I asked a few questions. Not that I really needed to. From the moment I heard the yearning in the woman's voice I knew she was the one I worried about after I stopped worrying about the dog. She described him to a "T" even telling me about how he yelps when you touch the bump on his tale because it was once broken. Before the phone call was over I was making an appointment to give Blackie, aka Spud back to Eva. I tried not to be sad. In all honesty I can't afford the vet bills for another pet. Mainly I was really pleased that this story was going to have a happy ending. At 5:30 on the dot, Eva

Blackie

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Perhaps I've watched to many episodes of Cross Country and the Dog Whisperer. Perhaps I'm just a sucker for big brown eyes. Either way, I have fallen for a wayfaring stranger with 4 short legs and tail that seldom stops wagging. Last week, after dropping my sister off at the airport I drove home in one of those fogs where you think you're driving safely but in all actuality your mind is a million miles away from the activity at hand, i.e. going 65 miles per hour on a 4-lane highway. It always kind of surprises me to find I've gotten myself home in one piece. As I neared my own neighborhood on that fate-filled day, a black fur ball on the sidewalk next to a busy street pulled me from my depression. It seemed strange that a dog would have picked that particular spot to lie down and take a nap. Something was not quite. In an instant, I went from woe-is-me mode to Super Girl. Knowing I couldn't do the rescuing myself, that I needed my trusty sidekick, I sped home and ye

Touched by an Angel

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" A little consideration, a little thought for others, makes all the difference." Winnie the Pooh Terri St. Cloud became a friend of mine through one of those circuitous and serendipitous moments that life sometimes throws at you. A year ago, I took myself to the beach for a brief retreat. As if I had all the time in the world, not just a Saturday afternoon, I strolled into a store full of sweet smells, handmade gifts meant to bring one comfort and serenity. I met Bella who, not only convinced me of the recuperative value of a Tibetan Bowl massage, she pointed pointed out some bonesighart prints. Rather uncharacteristically attuned to the moment, I felt as if Bella was some kind of angel put in that spot on that day just for me. Her advice was correct on both counts. Sadly, not long after that the store closed and I never saw Bella again. I checked out the bonesighs web site, and through another angelic turn of events, began exchanging emails with Terri, a really cool lady ..