Verano

Some time ago I started working with one of the language apps to learn Spanish.  I have had some success but I have also stalled. I have been unable or unwilling to fully commit; I haven't done more than two lessons a day (though I do log in daily) I haven't (seriously) sought out other learning methods, no Spanish language listening apps, no written stories beyond that which is provided for free through the free app, and as important, no serious efforts to connect with other learners for real-time conversation.  I discovered that our local library has a group that meets once a month or so.  But short of finding and investigating sources, that has been the extent of taking the learning to the next level.    

I languish at the basic learning level. 

What will be the catalyst to move the meter? 

Mientras tanto disfruta tu verano.  

I am going to enjoy mine.  

Take gentle care, 

oxox 

September ? ! ? !

 Do you remember

The 21st night of September?

Love was changing the minds of pretenders

While chasing the clouds away*

My son mentioned in conversation the other day, "we're coming up on my favorite months...the 'ber months; September, October, November, December!" He went on to say why, though I already knew.   I love how my son speaks to me as though I didn't give birth to him and lived with him for at least half of his life.  Admittedly, he's formed some insights and outlooks since being out on his own for many years now, but, still, . . I know he's a lover of autumn and (early) winter. 

Otherwise in the intervening weeks since last I visited here, a paternal aunt died, a maternal aunt became seriously ill (recovering), I snipped a bit of my hair--not a lot, just a couple of inches--amazing what a difference it makes. It's a mindset.  I also told a fib. A (casual and equally remote) co-worker asked oh so matter-of-factly, if I had a FB account. I replied, in kind, 'No'. (a fib) I wasn't up for the back-and-forth about how I don't invite any co-workers to any social media space, how I need a bit of separation, how I have very few FB friends that I haven't met F2F or haven't known virtually for many years now (or both).  

Fact is, my social media (FB anyway) days are feeling quite numbered.  I quit the last art group a few days ago. The mission of the group shifted and with that, two of the three admins opted out. Several other members quit and after a bit of navigation, I just wasn't feeling the vibe of the new scene.  I dropped out.  

I did put in an application with another sketching group with a mission more aligned (per their introduction) with my own.  I'm waiting to hear. 

But, I think I have, just this very moment decided that, while I won't likely leave the platform altogether, my engagement will be much, much less, likely toward an eventual departure.  Granted a some friends are still there are are engaging in some way. We'll see.  Still, if the art group chooses me, I may pass.  

Whether I'm in a FB group or no, I will keep sketching. I will keep sharing somewhere, here or IG. (or both). 

Oh, and I lost 100 lbs.  Well, I lost and found the same 10 pounds ten times.  Same thing.  ::smile:: 

Enjoy what is left of your summer.  

I hope you're welcoming fall with open arms and warm hearts.  

*September songwriters: Allee Willis, Al Mckay, and Maurice White  recorded by Earth, Wind, and Fire, released 11/18/1978

 

 

.  

And Just Like That (Again)

 

An entire season gone and no posts.  

Wow.  

That certainly was not the plan, but here we are.  

And to be frank, this isn't a post inasmuch as it is a, "hey, I'm still here" notice.  

So, I'm here.  

Still sketching (though, there too, lapses. Oy) 

Still haven't cut my hair though I do think it is thinning some. Que sera sera.  

Still working the 9 to 5 (remotely--thank goodness!!!) 

Still trying to . . . (oh, so much).  

Until next time (before the end of the season, is the plan) be kind, be present, and 

take extremely gentle care.  

This world.  

Wow.  

Daily Practice

Sitting. Thinking.  Trying to draft.....  something.   

Nothing but everything is coming to mind.  

When in flux, do a list:  

My dad died ten years ago (on the 6th).  I feel the loss but moreover it is a reminder that coming 

in February is the tenth anniversary of my mom's death.  It still feels kind of unreal.  

My daughter and I have lived together off and on since her birth.  She developed habits in her youth that remain today.  A couple of said habits bug the bejeebus out of me.  She is aware but . . . ugh.  

If the actor (my son) were to order business cards he'd barely have room for his name what with all the different things he does.  When he's out and about, he's difficult to peg and when people ask, he varies the reply but it is usually, "performer" or some variation therein.  

Per the memory tape in some of the social media platforms I've used over the years it appears that I've had bouts of great busy-ness with little reward or progress; usually as related to the work I do (or have done).   

Hmm  . . . 

While I do sketch often, I don't find the window to do it every day.  I'm grateful to be part of several groups that help with motivation and inspiration.  And I see some pretty amazing sketches; heck, full on works of art.  Dang.  

I have not cut my hair since making the decision to grow it. However, I have discovered that I am not 

the personal hairdresser I was in my youth.  Plus, the texture has changed, which has altered some options.  

Still, I keep it going. And keep it simple.  

It boggles my brain and shakes my soul that I have a forty year old son and a daughter who will 

soon be thirty-seven.  Yet, a check-out clerk carded me for a case of beer the other day. 

I haven't quite decided how to feel about that.  

Somewhat.  

It's Autumn?  Wow. 

Take gentle care.  

  

 

Outside

 

Slowly but surely? the villages cities, states, are re-opening.  Slowly but surely? vaccines are becoming more accessible. Slowly but surely? my confidence of not just being outside (beyond walking the dog) but on public transportation is growing.  

I re-loaded my transit card in anticipation of running a few errands over the next several weeks.  

I will likely take public transportation to get the vaccine when my number is called.  

Slowly. 

Surely.

Gingerly. 

Cheers to Spring! 

                                                                  my annual ode to spring

                                                                       Here they come 

The Newest Normal

prompt: something that starts with "T"

prompt: Lick and A Promise

Shelter at home, safer in place, self-quarantine, suspended, postponed, cancelled. This is Spring 2020.  Maybe Summer too? And dare we fear, Fall?  It is all too overwhelming to contemplate so I'm working on maintaining a day-to-day outlook.

It's difficult.

Point of fact my day-to-day hasn't changed much since the beginning of the government's efforts to "flatten the curve".  I was already working (so grateful) from home and I am not, under even the most perfect of conditions, a social butterfly.  My work hasn't had to shut down and in fact, may get busier as the days go on with folks seeking medical attention. (The company has clients whose practices are likely to be less in demand while others are likely see a dramatic uptick).

Still, I'm concerned.  Both my son and daughter work in industries that are not considered essential. Well, my daughter's industry is but as she was employed by an sports and entertainment venue her workplace was shuttered with days on the schedule.  She may be able to get hired on with another group within the industry but job hunting during this time is...well, challenging.  Her income or lack thereof impacts my (our ) budget.  She may get paid for the games missed, a promise with no concrete documentation.

There are options, not great but, something. Those are being explored, utilized in as much as they are feasible. 
 
My son is still waiting to hear if the university (he's a teaching artist working with a theater attached to one of Chicago's major universities) will pay staff during the shut down and if so, for how long.

I am concerned. March feels taken care of economically for us but the days, weeks, m o n t h s following, not so much. And beyond all that, both have, prior to their respective workplaces shutting down, had a lot of contact with a lot of humans.

The unknown (and an extreme lack of confidence in the federal government) invokes fear, anxiety. 

So yes, I'm working on maintaining a day-to-day outlook; trying to focus on that which I may solve.  And reaching out (even more) to family and friends. 

And leaning on art even more. 

Stay safe. Stay home if you can. Follow CDC protocols.  We're all in this together. 

 

 

    

June: Not Too Soon

 The first full weekend of June has come and gone without much fanfare. The weather was mostly agreeable, some chore were done, some Melody time was had, some rest was achieved  . What didn't occur this first weekend in June was the journey to Chicago's famed Hyde Park neighborhood for the world famous 57th Street Art Fair. 

bygone days sketchbook

I look forward to this fair every year. I had the calendar marked, I had an alert set.  I love the event for the location, the eclectic and charged atmosphere, the fact that it is early enough in the season where it isn't too hot so the walking is mostly agreeable.In many ways it is the event of the season.  

Yet, I didn't go. Despite the excitement over the idea, even as I had a pang of nostalgia for a visit two years ago and I discovered she didn't have work, even as art fairs is one of a few venues I don't mind attending alone, I didn't go.

And for the first time in quite some time, I didn't beat myself up for missing an event that I had planned (even if loosely) to attend.  I wake up this Monday morning feeling satisfied over the amount of chores completed and the balance of fun and relaxation achieved this weekend.

The season has just begun and there are many fairs on the horizon. Some I will make. Some, I won't.

And it shall be fine. There is always a plan B (or C, D, etc. ) I must continue to embrace the moment, listen to my body, and take special care.

Happy Monday All.

#MicroBlog Monday   click the link for more.

It is Monday, Again

Can you believe it, Monday September 21st?! And, in a couple of days, the first day of Fall. I am ready . . but not. I've been immersed in the medical billing training and creating cards; words and
images, and more;  memories for my daughter's 30th coming in a little over two weeks.

And through it all, my mother appears, voice ringing in my ears, her image popping in and out of my mind's eye. I've been reflecting on the wise words of Rose Kennedy: “It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone.”

It is possible to get tired of pumpkin spice marketing. Give it a rest already. 

#Microblog Monday  click the link to check out other MicroBloggers

September, So Long Summer

Pete's Box 

As we count down the last days of summer I realize that while I marked the calendar with a number of "check this out" events I look back and realize that I have not done any of those things. There were a number of reason over the previous 10 or so weeks but ultimately, I just didn't feel like being out in that way. 

It may be connected to my single status. It may be connected to my meager financial resources. It may be connected to my conscious effort to focus and stay on task. It may be connected to being bone tired by week's end and a little grocery shopping, laundry, and cleaning is about all I can muster. 

It may be all of that and then some. 

While I am not looking forward to what lies beyond the likely, all too brief Autumn I am not particularly all that sorry to see summer fade this year.

Welcome to September.      

#MicroblogMonday

For Some, It Is That Time

My daughter with drink in hand. 

Summertime and the living is easy.*

*for some folks, don't you know.

*for some of the time, for sure?

*credit DuBose Hewaard and 

the Gershwins (George and Ira) 

#Six Word Saturday     

Welcome to Summer

dad and his mom early '60s?

Summer of 1973. By this point my parents had been separated for about five years.. There were the usual battles most of which involved his promising to come get us for an outing and not showing.

Mom covered for him as much as she could. And while losing confidence she never failed to ready us for a "dad" day.

Summer of 1973 I was graduating from elementary school. A big deal under regular circumstances made bigger being as I'd skipped a grade and was at least a full year younger than most of the other graduates.

Tickets were limited and given the track record of the previous five years, mom decided dad wouldn't be invited to the ceremony. Following some heated, some hushed conversations, dad announced that there would be a day of celebration, just the two of us.

All decked out in my green and white maxi dress, white pumps with matching handbag, and pearl necklace with matching earrings, I sat on the sofa, nervous that once again, he wouldn't show. Steeling myself for the disappointment.

But, he did show. We had lunch in a fancy restaurant where he ordered me a drink topped with fruit, stabbed with one of those paper umbrellas. After lunch we went to a play and while I've long forgotten what we saw, I remember having kept the playbill for a long time. After the play we went for ice cream sundaes.

I am not prone to hyperbole, but that day . . . best ever.

That day wound up being one of very few that we would share. That day is the one I held close when we were so far apart. The memory of that day helped lead us to an eventual reconciliation and what prompted the letter I wrote to say, good-bye.

Summer of 1973, the standard bearer for all subsequent summers.

Thank you, dad.

#MicroblogMonday

No scrambling, No trampling

Anyone who knows me is well aware of my aversion to shopping of any kind with the rare exception of hardware stores and garden centers I avoid s-t-o-r-e-s unless absolutely necessary.

So, the idea of ME going out anywhere near any kind of "special deal" "door-buster sale" "hot, hot pricing" is as ludicrous as finding me on a tropical beach basking in the mid-day sun, wearing a string bikini.

Ludicrous.

Several years ago my employer added the day after Thanksgiving as a paid holiday for regular, full-time employees (such as myself.) And even before then I was fortunate to take a vacation day on that day. Historically the day has been filled with outings with the kids, catch-up chores around the homestead, gorging on left-overs. . . in other words, just chilling.

To paraphrase Taylor Swift, never (ever)< did it include getting trampled by or being the one trampling on bargain hunters burning off the turkey with all the trimmings scrambling through the malls of hard knocks.

This Friday will be no exception. Tomorrow we will visit and eat and drink and some of us will repeat the eating and the drinking. And repeat once again. But then it will be Friday and beyond spending a few hours winterizing my mother's apartment, I haven't yet mapped the day. But, I can guarantee . . .

there will be no< shopping.

And speaking of ludicrous, opening stores earlier and earlier on Friday---so early, many are opening later in the evening on . . . Thursday!

Ludicrous.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Peace ♥


   

Night, Day and Night Again

Last night we suffered our first power outage of the summer season. Earlier in the day a storm had torn through town, ripping up trees and though I hadn't heard specifically, I presume some lines were downed in the process.

I suspect that the various crews cleaning up the aftermath of the summer storm factored in the big boom and then...pfft. No electricity. No lights. No computer. No TV. It was still light when the power failed, so I decided to go for a bike ride. One to exert some energy and two, to survey the extent of the outage, if I could.

The ride around town and into a neighboring village revealed that though sporadic, the outage was extensive. Several blocks in one direction dark while the next several not, then dark and then, not. The last leg of ride home was in total darkness, street lights out and only businesses with alternative sources of power (McD's) operating. Our building was dark, save the emergency lights. Once back inside I find Danielle gone. She does not do well without her creature comforts, I'm with Blythe, they have electricity, I'm charging my phone so went a subsequent conversation.

So, I'm alone with the D dog and "the boys." The boys, as you might imagine took to being in near total darkness in stride. I think Buttah was more bothered by the heat than the dark. I found out on the ride that temps were still in the upper 80's range. D dog was particularly skittish. Barking at every sound and finding it hard to settle down. She tended to stay even closer.

I settled in for a long night, the power company estimated restoration of power around 2 AM. Gathering my power outage survival kit, tuning the radio to a local classical music station, enjoying a couple (or more) of cold ones and later engaging in a little inebriated, power outage texting and LOLing with a friend.

Today has been a typical summer day. Sunny, temps in the upper 80's with a heat index making it feel like 90 or more. Thunder and severe storm warnings have been issued for some areas of the state as have flood warnings (there has been a hella rain round these parts). It is my hope the fixes hold and we don't lose power again. If we do, I have fresh(er) batteries and more...provisions.

And oh, by the way, the power was restored at three this morning and for the record I don't have A/C. Danielle has a window unit in her bedroom, but I make do with a box and ceiling fans. And going without a shirt.

Hot fun in the summertime.

It's Spring ! ! ! !

Forecast from National Weather Service As of 12:03 PM CDT on March 20, 2008
Rest of Today... Partly sunny. Temperatures nearly steady around 40. Northeast winds around 10 mph. Tonight... Mostly cloudy. Snow after midnight. Snow may be heavy at times after midnight. Snow accumulation of 1 to 2 inches. Lows in the upper 20s. East winds 10 to 20 mph. Chance of precipitation 90 percent. Friday... Snow. Snow may be heavy at times. Snow accumulation of 3 to 5 inches. Blustery. Highs in the mid 30s. East winds 15 to 25 mph. Chance of precipitation near 100 percent.

I don't care. It's spring and I got it. The fever. And it's burning a whole in my... oh never mind. Happy Spring!

Raise Your Hand If You're Done

This is the day I’ve been dreading. Not dreading so much as…well, yes, dreading.

I’m going to a mall. I will be in a very large mall, in December a mere 10 days from THE DAY.

I know the why Deborah is punching your teeth to trip off your lips.

Don’t get all slobbery, I’ll tell you why, in a word…daughter.

At some point it became clear that I could not be trusted to buy clothes or gadgets for my daughter on my own. The male was not a problem, but my D oh no—she made it perfectly clear that I didn’t have a clue about those things. So long story short it is now tradition for me to treat her to a shopping spree, well, on my budget—more like splotch, for Christmas. So a-splotching we shall go. She gets to do what she loves most without me griping. That’s the real gift because Deborah Does Not Do Malls. For a few hours on a Saturday in December she shops while I yay or nay (mostly yay--I know my role) choices, pay, hold bags and demand suggest lunch.

It is an event. Really. Alert the media.

Normally my own shopping is done by now. I do mail order. I do it early. I get the stuff in, wrapped and if gifts need to travel elsewhere, they are gone. This was not a normal year. I’ve been a bit off stride, out of sync, off schedule. While the needing to be shipped stuff is done, the other is not yet finished. There are a few more items to be crossed from the list.

I must shop on our visit to the mall.

This could get ugly. Truly.

***click on photo for ~hand soap~ vendor. Note, however, most are on backorder -sigh-

Season of the Sun

It’s that time of year. The time where thoughts of summer take over many corners of the brain. What to do, when to do, where to do dot many to do lists. If children are in the mix, even more to dos must be considered. Brochures, flyers, catalogs from the local park district, various sports programs, academic outlets, day and sleep away camps and others hoping to get your attention, registration and fees begin to crowd the mailboxes, litter counter-tops and desks.

In my children’s experiences most of the summer-time activities revolved around summer school, reading and sports camps. It took some doing to coordinate activities for the entire summer for a boy and a girl with a 3 ½ age gap, wide ranging interests and limited transportation options.

My own childhood summers were mostly un-constructed affairs. My brothers and I were more often than not, left to our own devices. For me that meant mostly keeping to myself, reading. Some summers particularly, pre break-up, found us entrenched in our local park’s day camp program. We were out-fitted with logo t-shirts, shorts, sneakers and duffle bags. Along with many neighborhood kids we walked to the park to play, learn to swim (not me, mind you), sing songs, make stuff out of popsicle sticks, rag strips, clay and pipe cleaners. There were also field trips.

We went to the Aquarium, Planetarium, amusement parks, zoos and more. The highlight of any trip being the outcry of the kid who discovered her previously frozen can soda had burst and soaked their bologna sandwich through and through. The pain went deep because soda was a treat given only on trip days.

I was spared the trauma of soaked bologna because I never got soda, previously frozen or otherwise. I had allergies and milk products followed me everywhere.

Every weekday, on my way to and from work, I pass the park where I spent a couple of summers in the sixties and remember. I remember a couple of friends sharing the experience of the crafts and games. I remember spending hours in happy association with kids who were not my brothers or cousins. I remember the day we moved away and realizing that I would never see my friends or participate in any of the day camp activities again.

Riding past the park has put the thoughts of summer in my head, especially as the grass greens, the trees bud and the geese squawk. I think about the songs dedicated to and depicting the madness of the season, the hot fun times to be had. I think about what my son and daughter might be doing this summer, what memories will be constructed.

Of course I think about what summer will hold for me, what songs will tell my summer story. I think about how much I'm looking forward to another season of the sun.

Snow

As you may have heard, my little town and several others were blanketed with a fair amount of snow late Thursday through Friday. My area got six inches. Some others, twice that amount. My short boots held up well with the slogging I had on tap for the day.
The snow tapered around 1:00 p.m. Friday afternoon. Much of the town looked like a picture post card. These are for Suzanne, who loves snow. Some souls either didn't believe the forecasts or didn't care. No, I would never, ever even think about riding my bike in this kind of weather. Never. But hey, different strokes.
Our pre-winter storm isn't just about the snow. We will be treated with well below freezing temps all weekend. Dictating the theme-hot and steamy. Hot and steamy beverages will be consumed the entire weekend. If not for the actor's play closing this weekend, it's doubtful yours truly would even go outside. But the play is closing and see it I must. Again. Not even ten degree temps could keep me away.

for your enjoyment: Sleigh bells ring, are you listening? In the lane, snow is glistening. A beautiful sight, we're happy tonight, walking in a winter wonderland.

Hypothetically speaking.