Breathe

Waiting room, again.  Early morning this time.

5 times in 10 days.

Usually I leave this part of my life out of my blog world.

But I'm tired and cranky.

I'd like to feel better.

This day, I decided to take an artistic view during my waiting time.

I tried to look through a different lens.

There are words, in different languages and textures.
Words to identify.

Words to warn.

Letters to build still more words.

There are numbers to identify, to track, to alarm, pacify or confuse.
There are numbers to let you in.

There are lights, each holding it's own meaning.

All of them tools for medical personnel.

There are lines.  Straight lines, curly lines...lines like pretzels.

Lines that transfer information, that make things possible.

"Say Ahhh..."
Lines that search for and embrace breathing.

There are shapes that grab or poke while doing their job.

I sit and wait.

I sit and breathe in and out, slowly...mist rising around me.

I flip through meaningless or interesting magazines where celebrities parade, science gets discovered and folks spend 4X my rent for a wicker chaise lounge.

Gee whiz!

I notice full spectrum fabric suggestions and think of my online friends.

In the end, I wait somewhere else and two hours later leave with a goodie bag.

A consolation prize of sorts.

Goodie.

But, the beautiful view is what holds my attention.

Later, at home, I take my new Nebulizer out for a test drive, while doing some stitching on the 'gathering blanket'.

There was a lot more to the post I wrote in my head while waiting and sitting and inhaling or exhaling.

It was breathtakingly eloquent.

It was filled with the noticed rhythms of those that travel these halls each work day.

Sensible shoes and colorful coordinated cotton outfits...and bustling.

Business like and kind at the same time.

Warm, but yet detached.

Because, they have their days to get through too, after all.

There was the noticed patterns, an order to things.

Vitals taken in the same efficient way each time.

Computer information entered in the same order each time.

Doctors bidding farewell as they open the exam room door, 

while the patient exits a moment or two later.

How many times a day must it flow just like this.

I saw it in my mind's eye as a continuous blur.

I heard it in a visualized movement.

Doctor swoops out the arc of an opening door, 
voice rising as he or she enters the open hallway

Pause

Patient(s) follow moments later, footsteps slow and subdued.

What does this rhythm feel like to those in the sensible shoes?

Also in my mental post were long ponderings on life-long chronic illness.
What that means.
How that shapes who one becomes, who one IS.
When that impacts others in one's life.

Fully aware things could be much much worse.
Fully aware that many have unbareable health situations.
Even though this asthma is not much fun...and is worrisome, 
I am grateful in the knowledge that this attack will not last forever.

I am grateful for my ability, with a bit of focus,  
to look through different lenses.
To reframe an experience...even when tired and cranky.

Thank you for reading today. 
Goodnight.

Photos by NAE @pomegranatetrail ©2013

If You Find a Rock

      


Created over a year ago, I finally am posting my reading of this great children's (or anyone's) book!
This is what happens when you lay around sick for the better part of a week.
You get bored.
You try to get caught up.
You decide that 'good enough' is really good enough (I wasn't satisfied with this reading at the time I recorded it).

Wishing Rock ~ Emma Wood State Park

Anyway, I have a long history with this book.  I found it in the early 2000's at a conference for Early Childhood Professionals.  In the basement, downstairs in the vendor area, I stood digging through unorganized bins of books.  Suddenly, my eyes feel upon this cover....
If You Find a Rock.  As I stood there reading, I knew a treasure had been unearthed!  The bustling world around me faded away as I let the lyrical prose carry me away...
to my childhood...
to my own children...
to the children in my different classrooms...
and of course, to my mom who was a children's bookseller at the time.

I made a quick purchase, of course!




Over the many years since, I have used this book in my own classrooms and gifted it to others.  It has been the foundation for many lovely learning experiences with children aged 3 years to 5th & 6th grade.

My mom sold it like crazy at the children's bookstore where she worked.  Every customer that held it in their hands, ended up making the purchase.  My mom sold more copies of this book than anyone.  She sold out the publisher!  I always got a kick out of that!
All because I stumbled on this treasure.
All because I noticed and shared.

I love when that happens.
I love the bond we held together over this book.

Because of this book, I've been inspired to give many 'wishing rocks' to kindred souls.

I hope you've enjoyed it too.

Special thanks to Jenclair of Bayou Quilts for her recent posts of weaving and rock work (great link included), which inspired me to finally pull this post together!

Photos by NAE @pomegranatetrail ©2013

Two Quotes, A Book and More

 

Emma Wood State Park

I've been reading my mother's copy of:  

"An Alphabetical Life: Living It Up in the World of Books" by Wendy Werris.

I'm barely into it and am feeling such a connection to her.  Her life-long love of books, writers, bookstores, authors and the city of Los Angeles.  It begins in the 1970's.  I remember her then.  I was a teenager...and I remember her in that era.

It makes me think of this quote, discovered in the library of the local community college where I once worked, 

"How many man has dated a new era in his life from the reading of a book" ~Henry David Thoreau, A Week on the Concord River, 1849

It's cooler tonight,  A slight breeze is blowing through the open windows.

Still not feeling well, I think I will go tuck in to read and rest and sleep... with this book in my hands and my mom in my heart.

Our hands

Earlier tonight this quote came new to me, from an old friend.

As Ram Dass says,

“What it boils down to is this, we’re all just walking each other home.” 

This is something to remember.

Gate at the end of the road

  Take care of one another on the trail...

Photos by NAE @pomegranatetrail ©2013

 

September Color and Life

September color looks pretty much like August color around here.

Sky bright and hot.

But, now the sunflowers are showing their age.

Some hang so heavy that I have to hold the camera underneath and point towards the sky!

I've felt just this same way, so I can relate to the gals exhaustion!

I'm sick as I was in February.  Not quite as bad this time.  But still.

He's been sick too.

It's been a long couple of weeks.

I feel like I am mindless on the computer.

Trying to sell stuff.

Reading and admiring the works of others.

But not being to productive myself.

I guess there is a season for everything.

Turn Turn Turn

Our sunflower garden has gone nuts.

The sunflowers are becoming spent, while the volunteer elm trees take over.

The weird thing is that these elm suckers are covered and I mean Covered in flies!!

So, when I trek out in the heat, I'm greeted by a very loud buzzing.

It's very odd.

Spent sunflower with thriving elm tree sprouts

The gals are on their last leg!

Looking up while she hangs her head

She no longer stands up straight!

I love how the petals just hang there, totally spent!

shriveled

Then I spy something I've never noticed...

A tiny red dot...what is that?

A bit of red color as Jude was talking about?

Let me look closer...

Ah, golden and red-golden sap!

I didn't even know that this happened to sunflowers.

Isn't that beautiful?!

He hasn't been able to get out there and keep the trees wacked back, so they are taking over everywhere that gets some water.  

I used a rake just to hold them back so I could fine and move the tomato and pepper pots!!

Almost ready

Needing more time

Other things around here share the garden's traits of 

feeling heavy and feeling bright and beautiful.

I came home a few weeks ago with a large box of papers, journals, bibles, documents and photographs that belonged to my aunt.  The box is stuffed with the history of my ex's family.  My general plan is to sort through it, saving some aside for my children and sending the rest (most of it really) off to my brother-in-law.

It's interesting, memory filled and I am grateful to have a chance to explore it all.

I just don't know how and when I will be up to it.

It's a heavy task, as it was to go through my own mother's things.

Now, the personal artifacts of this aunt and her mother (she didn't dispose of any of Grandma's belongings when she passed away years ago!)

I look at this box and think...a lifetime of living in one cardboard box.

Is that what a lifetime comes down to?

 I took two owls from her extensive collection, one for each of my children.  I took a basket for me, because it is pretty and useful.

This aunt of mine collected owls way before they were trendy, way back when I met her in 1976!  I still don't know why she liked them so much.

Time goes by.

It inspires me to continue with my own purging, so my own children will not have such a large task when the time comes.

So I pulled out this footstool today.  I'm ready to let it go.

top view

side view

 But first I will tell a bit of it's story.  I'm collecting the stories before the items go.

~ I have this little footstool. The needlepoint was done by my godmother's mother and given to me as a wedding present in 1979. She in fact had it made into this stool.  It's tiny really, measuring only 8 inches high and 12 inches across.   My best memory with this is rocking my infant son in his darkened bedroom, whilst in an antique press-back rocking chair with a green needlepoint seat, similar floral design. I rocked and rocked him and sang him a lullaby I'd made up. As I rocked, I rested my back on the white & red heart scalloped & crocheted edge baby quilt (some of you may remember seeing it in the Forum), which I kept folded up there. These are good memories of a special time so long ago. I was a young, twenty-one year old mama, just staring out in my much sought after life as a wife and mother.  He'll be 33 next week. A grown man.  I don't really need this little footstool anymore.

hearts side

The quilt as it looks after a wash with oxi clean!

I can barely find the yellow age spots, it looks so sharp!
Thanks for the tip Cathie!

white side

That's it for now.  I'll see ya'll further on down the trail...

Photos by NAE @pomegranatetrail ©2013

A Day

Friday sunset

This isn't really what this post is about.

But, then maybe it is in some respects.

I've had the desire to just go away.

Somewhere.

Probably by car though.

Escape

Today was a day of remembering, celebrating and visiting with family.

Today was another funeral.

Maybe another funeral is part of the desire to escape.

My sister and I arrived early enough to visit the grave sites of our parents.

As we drove to them we noticed an unusual sight.

A coyote lounging in the sun among the grave markers.

Is that really...??? 

Yep, it is.

We have never seen this before during any of our many visits to the cemetery.

Then...wait...we spy another one.

Then a third.

When we speak to the groundskeeper, we learn that recent building nearby have displaced these creatures.  We learn that there are about 3 or 4 living among the deceased.

They seemed not to care at all about the many visitors moving among them.

But, we did see a warning sign later!

The service was beautiful.

Grandchildren reading the words of others.

Children sharing their own written words.

All were remembering and celebrating a life very well lived.

The following chant (not attributed to anyone) really touched me.

It was read by one of the grandchildren, who started with the first phrase. The group read along in an every other fashion.

There is something very powerful and connecting about choral reading.

We Need One Another

We need one another when we mourn

And would be comforted

We need one another when we are in trouble

And crave help

Or when we are in the deep waters of temptation

And a strong hand might pull us out

We need one another when we would accomplish

Some great purpose and cannot do this alone

We need one another in our defeats

When with encouragement we might strive again

And in the hours of success, when we look for 

Someone to share our bliss

And we need one another when we come to die

And would have gentle hands prepare us for the journey

All our lives we are in need

And others are in need of us

All our lives we are in need, and are in need of us

We best live when we bring to others

Our understanding and solace

Today was also the day to share these two treasures with my cousin.

They once belonged to my favorite aunt, his mother.

I've had them since she passed away.

I was seven at the time.

Tonight I took the time to write him an email that held the story of their meaning to me.

He doesn't have many of her personal belongings.

We talked about that once.

So, today it was time to share.

I love the marking on the top.

After treating myself to a little Chinese food tonight, 

I read these two fortunes that summed up the day.

Lend a hand to one less fortunate than yourself.

You are eager to share yourself and your possessions.

As always, I am grateful for your friendship on the journey.

Photos by NAE @pomegranatetrail ©2013