Embrace The Suck

"Humanity is a spiders web. Touch the web at any point and the whole web vibrates." Maithri Goonetilleke * Since I live in Florida, I should be used to gigantic bugs; I'm not. The Palmetto bugs, aka roaches that skitter across the garage floor when the overhead light is turned on give me the willies. This year's mosquitoes look like they could care off a small child. All the rain and sun make Florida a bug's paradise. I don't mind the little ones. I enjoy watching the lizards scamper to and fro. I think this must be breeding season because I've seen a number of baby lizards not much bigger than my pinky. Yesterday while in the pool I saved a frog that was so tiny I was surprised he could even swim. He rested on the tip of my finger catching his breath, then hopped back to life when I put him near a blade of grass. I'm glad I did not have to try to resuscitate the little fellow because I might have inhaled him or snorted him up my nose. Florida is buggy...

"Driving a brand new car feels like driving around in an open billfold with the dollars flapping by your ears as they fly out the window." Grey Livingston I've been a little (okay, a lot) out of sorts lately. My trusty old van got to the point where every time I drove it something else would go wrong. That would lead to my damsel-in-distress persona having a complete meltdown, which would lead to Sweetie putting some kind of mechanical bandaid on the car and an emotional bandaid on me. In the last few weeks it also meant getting my money's worth from my AAA membership. Let's face it free towing is not really free towing when you've paid a membership fee for over 25 years. It's good to know, however, this damsel has that ace in her back pocket. The van would get a ride to the fix-it shop and I would look out the window to the empty spot in the driveway, then send up prayers that the cost of the repair would not be more than my credit card could handle. Some...

"A hospital should also have a recovery room adjoining the cashier's office." Francis O'Walsh I've mentioned before I'm not a very political person. I usually work from my heart not my head. Maybe I shouldn't admit this but I don't even know if my political beliefs fall into a Democratic or Republican purview. I am, however, a patriot. I honor our flag and way of life. I believe in our system. I just think our system is a little bit screwed up right now. I leave it to the pundits and politicians to fix it. Is that like asking a fox to guard the hen house? Up until now most of the country's problems have been something I've heard about on the news but haven't really experienced on a personal level. Recently, however, I've seen how hard it is for people to find a job once they've been laid off. A few I've known have been luckier than others. I've also watched as family members struggle to pay for prescription drugs they need y...

"Adventure must start with running away from home." William Bolitho It's been coming for awhile. Yet I was still a little bit surprised and a lot sad to read The Bedlam Farm Journal today and find that Jon Katz has put his farm on the market. He has whittled away his livestock over the last year. This weekend the sheep and donkeys went to their new home. For now the chickens are going to stay as well as the two cats. And of course all 4 dogs. In one of his recent posts Katz talked about his need to have a simpler life. That's funny, I thought to myself. In my mind, moving to a farm is a simpler way of life. It goes to show just how much I know about farming. If you read any of the Journal's winter posts, saw the pictures of snow and ice that wouldn't quit, and could imagine frozen mud and manure then you'd know that I should know that farming is probably anything but simple. Still, I fantasize about running away to a farm. Once in my life I wanted to run ...

“I feel very positive about the Wounded Warrior Project. They present you with opportunities you don’t even think about when you’re in the hospital. You try new things, new activities. It helps very much because, when you’re injured, you don’t know what you’re going to be able to do. And through WWP, you get a sense of pride, a sense of belonging, a sense that you can still do things in the world.” Javier Alvarez, USMC* "The Wounded Warrior Project (WWP) is a non-profit organization aimed at assisting those men and women of the United States armed forces who have been severely injured during the war on terrorism in Iraq, Afghanistan and other hot spots around the world. Beginning at the bedside of the severely wounded, WWP provides programs and services designated to ease the burdens of these heroes and their families, aid in the recovery process, and smooth the transition back to civilian life." I hadn't heard of the WWP until recently. In September, the Episcopa...

“Good bread is the most fundamentally satisfying of all foods; and good bread with fresh butter, the greatest of feasts.” James Beard (1903-1985) My Sweetie has never met a loaf of bread that he didn't like. He'll eat it slathered in butter, smothered in jelly or wrapped around a mustard covered hot dog. So when he picked up an old copy of Mother Earth News and read the article "5 Minutes A Day for Fresh-Baked Bread"* he nearly started salivating. The article's first paragraph said things like, "easy," "no kneading," and "your house will smell like a bakery." It also said "Baking bread at home saves hundreds every year. With this easy method, each loaf will only cost you about 50 cents and 5 minutes a day." Sweetie was sold. We were about to embark on a bread making adventure. First thing we had to do was buy a baking stone. Then some flour for the dough and cornmeal for the stone. Then some yeast. Our first loaf of bre...

"If you really want to change a culture, to empower women, improve basic hygiene and health care, and fight high rates of infant mortality, the answer is to educate girls." Greg Mortenson * Now that our warriors are spread throughout the Afghan countryside I have wondered and worried about Greg Mortenson's school building progress. My aunt sent me this NY Times article and, naturally, I want to share it with you. When I get all caught up in my own tiny life, when buying a new car seems like the most important thing in the world - buying a new car and making meatloaf and bleaching pee-stained jockey shorts - I forget to see the much bigger picture. I forget to see the look on the face of mothers and grandmothers whose children have to dodge bombs to get to school - if a school even exists. Like reading the Soaring Impulse blog this article shook me out of my "it's all about ME" world for a few minutes. It made me smile. It made me want a new number 2 pencil...

"Your mind knows only some things. Your inner voice, your instinct, knows everything. If you listen to what you know instinctively, it will always lead you down the right path. Henry Winkler Where was I? Oh yeh, mid-whine ... So to put it all together, I realize now that my voice has always been there. Buried deep perhaps under layers of fear, doubt and shame, but there nonetheless. From the time I was 15 I only spoke in places I felt really safe - a psychaitrist's office, to start with. As I got older I found reguge in 12-step meetings, church, my Sweetie's arms, and most recently my writing. For most of those years I never trusted my own voice or believed that anything I had to say was important. Likewise on the outside chance that I could think of something worth saying, I didn't trust other people not to put me down or make fun of me. Yikes, I was a big ball of fear and anger. What does that spell but depression? If I only knew then what seems so clear now. I can...

AN ODE TO ORANGE "Orange is the happiest color." Frank Sinatra Sun kissed fruits dripping juice down your chin A field of pumpkins on a brisk October day Flames of a camp fire, gently licking a puffy marshmallow Sweet potato pie Field fresh cantelope on the breakfast table Orange red and orange yellow Crayola crayons Salmon swimming upstream Coral on the ocean floor Gerber daisies Macaroni and cheese Sunflowers dipped in red food coloring Spaghetti o's Sharpies Layers of rock in the Grand Canyon Tropical flowers on a tropical isle Kente cloth stripes and waves Georgia clay Eastern mud salamanders Byrd's floral treasures + Key West sunsets Highway construction safety cones Tangy, hickory flavored BBQ sauce Earthy smelling Cyprus mulch + + Orange Nehi Floppy orange sun hats Orange streaks across a morning blue sky Orange fairy wings!! Here's hoping your day has a little orange in it. Merry ME *Photo by Keywest Johnnie

"The creation of something new is not accomplished by the intellect but by the play instinct acting from inner necessity. The creative mind plays with the objects it loves. " Carl Jung Last night I took a break from looking back and being all serious. Seriousness was boring me. The light of my epiphany dimmed by all that dark brooding. I'm not finished with it, just going somewhere else for a bit. So I got to playing with templates and gadgets and changing the look of my blog around. Not sure it's what I want yet, but I like the different look - at least for now. The new pictures on the side bar are my "awards" from Fyrebird. After my "self-indulgent twaddle" a few posts back, my friend from across the sea sent me something to dress up my blog. They are not awards in the sense that I have the best blog, or most meaningful thoughts, or craziest ideas. They are more like trophies for being ME from someone who knows how important that is. I'm hon...

"And you can break yourself free from your hereditary patterns, cultural codes, social beliefs; and prove once and for all that the power within you is greater than the power that's in the world." Dr. Rev Michael Beckwith It is probably no surprise that my report card became the standard I used to measure my worth. I didn't play sports and wasn't musically inclined. I hadn't yet learned to express myself with thread and fabric so my artistic talents were of the elementary school variety. I could draw my favorite landscape in my sleep - upside down V's for mountains, a big circle with alternating long and short lines for a sun, and mutli-colored tulips in a row. On report card day the custom for my sisters and I was to lay the evidence of our periodic accomplishments (or lack thereof) on the kitchen counter. Piled next to Beefeater's gin, dry Vermouth and jar of Spanish olives the report cards mingled with the day's mail like offerings on an altar ...

"The voice of the intellect is a soft one, but it does not rest until it has gained a hearing." Sigmund Freud As I was writing these final words on a blog post last week: "fulfilling a deep need I have to have a voice and be heard" an internal light bulb flashed on. Just as quickly life and a flu bug grabbed my attention and I never got back to my epiphany. The thought kept returning, however, so here I am trying to make sense of it. A little background... This may be a story I've already told, if so, please forgive the duplication and bear with me. One of my most vivid childhood memories comes from the year I was 12. I was in the sixth grade. I was taller than my classmates, skinny and shapeless. My head resembled that of a coconut, due in part to one of my first visits to a beauty parlor without adult accompaniment. Okay so I probably didn't know what to ask for, but the the fact is also true that the hairdresser was not yet skilled in the 1960's style...

"Patience is the art of hoping ." Marquis de Vauvenargues * Asclepias curassavica -Tropical Milkweed aka Butterfly Weed, Bloodflower and Mexican Milkweed Last night I watched this really cool show on the Discovery Channel - Wild Pacific. There was lots of interesting information as well as some photography that begged the question, "how did they do that?" Back-to-back episodes were followed by an hour long show answering just that question. Even now that I know what camera he used and what he was looking for, I am still unsure how the underwater photographer was able to catch the perfect picture of a surfer inside the perfect wave. How the guy kept from being pummeled by the wave he was photographing is a mystery to me. The reason, perhaps, he's famous and I'm not. Another featured artist specialized in wildlife photography. Wildlife as in finding penguins in the middle of a New Zealand forest (huh?), lizards that have been around since the days of the di...

Self`-in*dul"gent, a. Indulging one's appetites, desires, etc., freely * I just read Fyrebird's blog for today. Actually it wasn't an actual post. It was more of a note to say that she'd deleted the post because it was "self-indulgent twaddle." I've decided to say a few things about that PLUS add my own bit of self indulgence. Hopefully I'll make a case that indulging one's self isn't all that bad. Dictionary.com had a couple other definitions of "self-indulgent" but I chose the one above because it did not include descriptive words like excessive or without restraint . I think it's these adjectives that give self-indulgence a bad rap. I've been co-dependent for as long as I can remember. That's psychobabble for carrying about others more than yourself. I've always considered being a mom and being co-dependent to be the same thing. When you're a mom you learn real quickly that someone else's needs and de...

"Now if I had a needle and thread; As fine as I could sew I'd sew my sweetheart to my back; And down the road I'd go. Here! Rattler, Here! Here!; Here! Rattler! Here! Recorded by Grandpa Jones I took LG's (see comments on previous post) advice and googled Ol' Rattler. Was I in for a surprise. Turns out Ol' Rattler was a dog not a snake. When I mentioned this to my father he shook his head in surprise and wonder. "Who would ever think Rattler was a snake?" he asked like one of those Hee Haw guys standing out in the cornfield wearing faded overalls. Apparently I've been away from my mountain roots way too long. It also turns out there is way more to the Ol' Rattler song than my father remembered. It's almost poetry! However, there is not one mention of our fair country, or Independence Day or even apple pie. For this reason I still question Dad's choice of patriotic songs. Clearly he's just having fun with me! If you don't have...

"You're a high flying flag And forever in peace may you wave" George M. Cohan I asked my Dad yesterday if he had a favorite 4th of July song. Without missing a beat he said,"Call Ol' Rattler from the Barn." If you are scratching your head and wondering about that you are not alone. That is the same reaction my sister and I had. First we asked him to sing it; then we asked the obvious question, what does it have to do with the 4th of July. And sing it he did: "Call ol' Rattler from the barn. Here Rattler! Here Rattler!" As far as I can figure there isn't really a tune, just a kind of HeeHaw kind of beat. You know the kind that makes you want to clap your hands and tap your foot. If you knew my Dad you would have been surprised to see the smile on his face as he sang. For reasons unbeknown to me this song seemed to tickle his funny bone or, more likely, stirred up a memory he didn't feel like sharing. My dad, who pretty much has an opini...

"Summer is the time when one sheds one's tensions with one's clothes, and the right kind of day is jeweled balm for the battered spirit. A few of those days and you can become drunk with the belief that all's right with the world." Ada Louise Huxtable* Since it's the first of the month Sweetie and I headed out with our full bank account and long shopping list to see if we could come out even at the end of the day. I took my camera with me thinking I'd capture a plethora of summertime scenes to answer the question posed on Molly's blog . Alas, I was undone at our first stop - Sam's Club. The parking lot was crammed full of a combination of people just like us (with first of the month money in their pockets) and holiday shoppers. The one picture I didn't have the nerve to take was of a woman checking out with one of those huge baskets full from bottom to top with hot dog buns. Not a weenie in sight, but enough buns to serve the Russian army. ...

[P hoto by Dale Dressler (c) 2005*] “Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another, 'What! You too? I thought I was the only one.” C.S. Lewis My blogging friend, Sorrow Grey, reached out across cyberspace yesterday and touched my heart. How does that happen? That someone I don't actually know knows me well enough to put a comment on my "Refuge" post that made me smile, cry and feel blessed? Please go back and read her comments and check out the John Denver songs she mentions. I have seriously never heard of these songs and I thought I was the most devoted of Denver devotees. The songs are really, really special. But more than that is the one who 1)took the time to read my post 2) related to what I said 3)remembered what I've written in the past of my connection to John Denver and 4) knew how his songs would take me to a place of peace. How cool is that? And then, on top of all that, this sweet lady puts yet another song on her post for...