A through Z --- Get to Know Me…

Yesterday my friend Bob aka Jonas’ ball boy, tagged me on FaceBook. I am known to love me a MeMe and his answers were delightful. Now I have known Bob for decades, infact he’s the first person I met at school when I moved to Florence. In the first class (advanced composition w/ Mr. Danielson) I sat down in an open desk and the boy in front turned around and looked me directly in the eyes and said, “Marsha?”

To which I responded, “John,”

He has much been my friend ever since… I’m not sure when I learned his real name. Now we work together. He’s a pretty solid person. Now my answers to his MeMe.

A through Z--- get to know me!

A - Age: 53
B - Bed Size: My share or the actual size?
C - Chore you hate: Mopping
D - Dog's name: Arlo Peppertree the retalatory pisser (he was once known as Tank)
E - Essential start your day item: Hot shower followed by pots of coffee
F - Favorite color: Green and Vesuvius (Landrover orange / cinnomon)
G - Gold or Silver: Silver (but I mix)
H - Height: Shrinking (it changes almost daily) at one time I was 5’11”, I’m much shorter now
I - Instruments you play(ed): I always wanted to learn piano, my mom could afford guitar (waste of money, time, and finger nails.) Now I’d like to learn Hammer Dulcimer and Auto harp
J - Job title: Operations Manager / Program Director / Sales Rep / She who comes when called
K - Kid(s): Yes, one and two halves
L - Living arrangements: We agree to legally live together and mutually like and love each other beyond the intended extent of the law
M - Mom's name: Mom, duh. She actually changed her name and like me goes by her middle name. Vicki
N - Nicknames: Cele and Tanglefoot (oh unless you’re my Mom, and then it is Beast, Grace) Debi
O - Overnight hospital stay other than birth: Is that my birth or hers? None.
P - Pet Peeve: This is Bob’s answer, but it is so excellent, I’m going to expound on it. “People that don't take the time to learn how their public services are funded and organized. Police officials that make it damn near impossible to reach them in a timely manner. Public servants that don't... serve”…. expounded part… Public officials that don’t think alerting the immediate local media about “Incidents of Public Concern” so we can disseminate important information for public consumption… like not being able to get home because someone killed his neighbor and the only accessible road (for most people) will be closed until the wee hours of the morning. Or how about the electrical systems on the draw bridge burned up and we can’t lower the draw bridge so you can’t go home in a timely manner.” just sayin’
Q - Quote from a movie: "Snakes. Why’d it have to be snakes?" (Harrison Ford, Indiana Jones – Radiers of The Lost Arc”
R - Right or left handed: Right.
S - Siblings: A Pinecone, a Butch, and a Buddy
T - Time you wake up: When my eyes open and I smell the coffee
U- Underwear: Under where?
V - Vegetable you dislike: Okra
W - Ways you run late: People run? By choice?
X - X-rays you've had: Teeth, Dex
Y - Yummy food you make: Well my fat ass says I make lots of yummy things. Ducky is partial to my tacos, chicken enchiladas, and chicken fried steak / mash / gravy
Z - Zoo favorite: hmmmm, the visitors.

I’m not tagging anyone but if you want to play tell let me know so I can learn more about you.

Sith,
Cele

Talk Thursday – Found What I Never Lost

There are moments when it is easier to go with the flow, treading to keep a float until a moment to breathe, a space of peace, or a glimmer of hope floats by. Darn, don’t you usually find, before that happens life takes over and you are flapping those feet faster and faster, while your arms swish your hands back and forth trying to keep up? Swarmed, swamped, swooned. The struggle to get a firm footing once again, beyond the class four rapids that have become life, seemingly lasts an eon. Oh, heck why minimize…not an, but eons.

Last weekend I got to garden. In fear of becoming that old biddy with the pruning shears down the street, may I say, “Oh, joy.” Yes, I had work to be done - my grandma’s meds to dole out, my mother’s lawn to mow, and a book that I was in am in the midst of editing, but to get back to me all it took to become grounded and serene was a bunch of sod, some four packs, and a hand trowel. Okay, there was a shovel, a hand fork, and my new garden bench, but who’s keeping track? Ducky worked to pull out (hack up into bits and pieces and throw away…with a wicked gleam in his eyes and joyous glee) a dying Rhody and I dug up weeds, dead headed some tulips, smeared chicken manure (hmmm maybe that’s where the pink eyes came from?) around, and planted a lilies and cosmos.

It was glorious and suddenly I was back to me, dreaming my garden, burrowing in the soil, and smiling all the while. Well until that chicken manure flew into my eyes. I think I never really lost sight of what I wanted, what I needed, and what I have, but maybe I miss placed it buried under all the harried minutia of work and winter.

Spring may bring warm weather, outdoor recreation for others, for me it brings me peace, grounding, and immense joy… and like Eden, yes there's a devil and a snake in my garden, but one I married, the other eats the bugs.

Sith,
Cele

My First Gardening Weekend of 2009

Spring is here, oh la la. It felt so good to get out and work in our yard, my mom’s yard, and put my new bench into my soon to be cutting garden.

We started the morning out cutting my mom’s lawn. This is something we have done every warm weather weekend since my father passed. It is enjoyable, my mother’s property is like a huge park, with a broad lawn,
little sitting nooks,
and different trees and gardens.
Right now it needs pruned something fierce.

Then we came home and worked on our own yard. As I’ve said many times before, I’m putting in a cutting garden… it started with the lilies Harley (one of my dj’s) gave me for Easter (what a sweet heart) and some new lily bulbs I bought dirt cheap at Bimart. They are right behind my new bench.

Knowing better I left my tulips from last year in ground… dumb, only a few are giving me blooms. I am destined to buy new tulip bulbs every year, it seems only the bright yellows and reds have any staying power year after year. And yet my snapdragons are hale and hearty, a perennial that has always acted like an annual for me. My echinecea are setting up new shoots (woo kewl) the lilies appear happy sending new shoots all over my garden.

Next weekend I will begin laying out my new cutting garden, beginning with a blue stone path. In the lily garden the blue stone path is greened with corisca mint, I am thinking about using a different creeper this time. Four cosmos sit to the east of the new bench in memory of Ducky’s dad who always had a ton to cosmos. My chain tree is waiting at the nursery for planting next week.

Oh, I feel the earth and green running through my veins and I’m estatic. So show me your plants, I want to see your green.
Sith
Cele

My Birdfeeder

Okay, just one of my birdfeeders, because the other should be called a bear feeder. A few weeks ago Fii had some great pictures of birds at her feeder. I remarked that it was just like the last one my dad and mom gave me (extremely amateur birdwatching was something we shared.)

The next morning I hear this knock, knock, or heavy peck, peck at my bird feeder and I am thinking, damn jays. But it wasn’t, a woodpecker was at my feeder. Wow, a woodpeck – I wasn’t certain but I thought it might have been a Hairy, which are fairly common around my woods. Before I can get my camera he is gone, no picture.

As I’m sitting the next morning at my computer and I hear knock, knock, knock (definitely knocking.) I get excited, grab my camera, and run to snap a picture… and it isn’t a woodpecker, it isn’t a stellar jay, no it’s a flicker (cousin to the woodpecker and very, very common in my neighborhood.) My damn batteries are dead. Deader than a door nail. I take them out of my camera, put them in the charger, and then into my camera that night.

No more large birds on my finch feeder. Bummer dude.

Until today, when Ducky getting ready to rip sod out for my new cutting gardens excitedly tells me there’s a woodpecker at my birdfeeder. And a very indulgent one at that. She (I’m thinking) allowed me to walk fairly near to take her pictures.


Now I’m thinking she’s a Three Toed Woodpecker because of the laddering on her back and spots on her wings.

Sith,
Cele

Happy Easter!!!!

Everybody Sing....Here Comes Peter Cotton Tail
Hopping down the candy trail,
Hippity Hoppity, Easter's on its way!!!

Peeps that come in pink and blue, purple ones are just too new.
Hippity hoppity Easter's on its way.
Yellow peeps are right for me, you can have the pink you see,
Hippity hoppity EASTER'S On it's WAYYYYYYYYY!!!!!

Easter's here, and I think you stink,
To request your Peeps yellow or pink,
If you want your Peeps, then take it or leave it!
Cuz’ I got purple, YES! Believe it!

Hop to it!!
Support Purple Peeps!!
PURPLE PEEPS ARE PEOPLE TOO!!
From the Committee To Promote Endangered Easter Purple Peeps - CPEEPPS

Talk Thursday: Paper Thin Heart

When I was young and stupid all I wanted to do was give my heart to someone who would treat it with unending passion. So I gave my heart away, far too young. To someone who was nowhere ready for the task at hand, the heavy load that is the heart of a young girl ready to love.

So I cried, I yearned, and mourned for what would never be. The unrequited love of my paper thin heart.

Years and tears and self torture later I found a man of deep hued eyes and heavy hands. In no time at all he took my heart, stomped and tromped, and wore me down until I fled the very town and place he was in.

And I cried, stronger for the experience. And much wiser.

I waited, not so long as maybe I ought and gave away my heart again. A little thicker with a calloused skin, preparing for his hate. The years passed inside our home, from where he'd longer gone, roaming in the forest lands. Away from me and my love. Until the day he said, “Enough, I was wrong. For you I have never loved.”

Oh, I cried. And wept some more, until he said, “I think I made a mistake.”

And then I laughed a bitter pill, “Oh, yes you did. Live with it.”

We didn't have any make up sex. We didn't cuddle in the night. I got over the loss, the misplaced trust and started over again.

On new ground, ground I'd laid myself, years later when I wasn't looking love came in. Nested, and grew, nourishing not one, but two calloused hearts. Rubbing off the layered scabs and protective crust to reveal again a paper thin heart ready to receive the love it gives.
Sith,
Cele

Talk Thursday: Paper Thin Heart
When I was young and stupid all I wanted to do was give my heart to someone who would treat it with unending passion. So I gave my heart away, far too young. To someone who was nowhere ready for the task at hand, the heavy load that is the heart of a young girl ready to love.
So I cried, I yearned, and mourned for what would never be. The unrequited love of my paper thin heart.
Years and tears and self torture later I found a man of deep hued eyes and heavy hands. In no time at all he took my heart, stomped and tromped, and wore me down until I fled the very town and place he was in.
And I cried, stronger for the experience. And much wiser.
I waited, not so long as maybe I ought and gave away my heart again. A little thicker with a calloused skin, preparing for his hate. The years passed inside our home, from where he'd longer gone, roaming in the forest lands. Away from me and my love. Until the day he said, “Enough, I was wrong. For you I have never loved.”
Oh, I cried. And wept some more, until he said, “I think I made a mistake.”
And then I laughed a bitter pill, “Oh, yes you did. Live with it.”
We didn't have any make up sex. We didn't cuddle in the night. I got over the loss, the misplaced trust and started over again.
On new ground, ground I'd laid myself, years later when I wasn't looking love came in. Nested, and grew, nourishing not one, but two calloused hearts. Rubbing off the layered scabs and protective crust to reveal again a paper thin heart ready to receive the love it gives.
Sith,
Cele

Life is Leap of Faith

Of late my family has been a bit bemused or curious at the description or definition of my faith. My faith and belief in God is firm. But, I assure you, not necessarily in the way a “church” or maybe even my upbringing taught me. Although in all fairness to my mom, she didn't really instill a specific belief in me, she let me discover my beliefs myself.

The Bible, to me is a history – not a verbatim, because it told me so. I believe it was inspired by the love of God, not by his mandate. I do believe the words in red are worth their weight in gold. The Golden Rule wasn't taught by Jesus alone, I will not go to hell/purgatory/the Outer Darkness (which I don't believe in) because I have a tattoo, get shots with needles, a blood transfusion, believe in a woman's right to chose, have friends who are sexually active with their own sex, or eat meat on Fridays (Fast Food Friday's requires beef or chicken prepared in an unhealthy way.)

I can not believe in a God who hates and condemns based on birth, sanctions hate, or rewards people who loudly go to church Sunday after a night (week) of living other than rightly. I do not, absolutely refuse to, believe that God “does things to us.” To me that is a belief that is just wrong on so many levels, I am sure it works well for a multitude of churches who want their parishioners whipped into line. How can people believe they are good when they treat others unfairly, cruelly, in hatred, and believe they are above others? I cannot believe that way.
Yes, this post is all about me. It is not about you, although maybe discussions with you have made me rethink my position (which is a very good thing.) Maybe this post (and I) will anger you. Maybe it will make you think about your own personal norms, mores, and foundations. If so, excellent.

When I was in my 'tweens my little brother died. It was a surprise, because no one saw it coming. I remember the morning my father gathered us in the darkened living room to say my mother was in the hospital, and that David was not born healthy. Pinecone and I both remember him saying David was born “too blue” and with holes in his heart. My mother does not remember this. What I do know is that David's death brought us together as a family. God did not take David to make us a stronger family, God had nothing to do with his passing. But I do believe that how we reacted to his death makes all the difference in the world. There were lessons, lessons to be taken to heart, embraced, and made into my own beliefs. I honor my brother's passing with this tradition, that I should find the silver lining in all things.

To hold the sorrows and why- me's to my bosom (although a mighty bosom it be) is not me, does not make sense. I don't blithely write people off when they are done on this plane, I keep them with me daily, then are never far. But I know that passing is a part of life, it is the inevitable conclusion to birth. I know in my heart that I will see them again, they can see me now, and finally they are without pain and horror. I do not leave them any day without telling them I love them and appreciate them. For I know I may not see them again in this life.
Sith,
Cele

Talk Thursday: A Dense, Wet Fog

This week’s title certainly fits Talk Thursday. I seem to be operating in a fog. Having a title/topic/thought each week inspires me, makes me stretch my wings, wet my writing nib. Sometimes it leaves me it exactly in the middle of a clingy, wet fog unable to turn left or write.

This morning is sunny, the coast is commonly hampered by a wet fog in the early morning hours. After doing the taxes, because who doesn’t wait until the last moment (when they don’t owe money,) to do their taxes? I will garden. In the sun, the glorious sun, removing the clinging dirt from the roots of weeds to plant my seeds and greenlings.

I have a saying, “If it’s not windy by 10(am) it will be by 2(pm). Well unless it’s foggy.” Most especially the fog comes inland after three days of heat in the valley. Often in the early morning hours pea soup moves inland laying a quiet blanket over the coast, deadening all sounds, except that of the buoy. Living a mile from the beach I can hear “the Whistler” at night (the buoy a mile off shore or less) singing on the dense marine air. Oft times in the middle of the night, even over the white noise of my fan, I hear the Whistler’s Circe’ song calling.

In the city pea soup feels dirty and stifling, on the coast the fog carries the salt scent of the ocean further inland (which is nice unless there are dead whales or bluesail on the beach.) In the high desert, dense fog turns into a suffocating white sheet of tule fog. In Utah my friend, Jenny T, assures me that a fog of weeks long inversion will suck the life out of everything, depress feelings and moods, and becomes quite dangerous. On the coast we know it will clear into wisps of mist that wrap sensuously around the dead snags in the sand dunes and coast pines before receding under the warmth of the sun, leaving the sky crystal clear blue.

Sith,
Cele

I Did It! Argh!

I resisted for a long time, but finally gave in last night and signed up for Facebook. Did you know it works better when you put a picture with you registration? Yeah, so I am told. But I don’t look like I’d like to look. Sad, sad.

Natalie tried to talk me into it a several months ago. I thought, I’ve got my own website, I have four chatrooms, I’m signed up at Classmates, I have two blogs, and a Myspace page. Crap how much more does a girl need? I read a zillion blogs when my time allows and Facebook will just suck up my spare time.

This I found out last night in aces. I talked myself into it, really I thought I needed to sign up because I’m trying to put together this reunion. What I found was that Pam was one of three people I could find – and I already talk with her. Lillian is on Facebook, but I have her email. Bummer, I sucked up three hours last night deciding I liked Myspace better. The positive side of it is that I got to chat with Natalie for a few minutes so my time wasn’t a total loss.

Now I just need to get a picture that is acceptable to me and not a lie as to what I look like, (i.e. pleasant looking but not a blimp.) I think my eyes are great, but annoy the heck out of people.

Oh, and don’t get any ideas, I’m still resisting Twitter, Linkened, and whatever new thingie is on the horizon.

Sith,
Cele