A honey bee makes 1/2 teaspoon of honey in it's life time.
A hive flies 55,000 miles to produce 1 pound of honey.
Some jobs are harder than others.
Every thing works for a living.
Every animal has an ordinary life.
Birds, bees, Sycamore trees, and people keep blooming.
An ordinary Sun.
An ordinary day.
An ordinary blue sky.
An ordinary bed, bath. meal, and job.
Ordinary water, beaches, rocks, trees, mountains, and electricity.
One day at a time, one day at a time, and millions keep passing by.
Ordinary books.
Ordinary friends.
Ordinary blood pumping.
Ordinary deaths, ordinary grief when one of us dies.
So many ordinaries add up to brimming life.
An ordinary life looking back on sandy dusty hills, rose rocks, treks to the barn, egg gathering, a snake or two. We fed the cows, milked the cows, ate the cows. We washed the dishes, washed the clothes, washed the floors. What was that stuff we put on the floors to sweep with? That oily sawdust stuff to control the dust.
Ordinary puppies, piglets, calves, and goats.
Ordinary. Routine.
Ordinary mother and dad.
Reaching across time for that ordinary childhood.
Josephine with tousled hair contorted in amazing configurations on couches and chairs.
Jean at college with college friends.
Janice studying.
Jerry with his bow, arrows, and quiver at ease with John, Don, and Robby lumbering through.
Jeff unafraid of monster movies.
Julia dancing on roller skates, a show to dazzle and amuse parents.
James laughing at everybody.
Camping with watermelons cooling in the stream. Hot summer trips, sleeping under the stars on camp cots with buffalo snuffling. Mother cooking in cast iron pans over the fire.
Ordinary well water.
Ordinary tin tub for playing.
Ordinary clothes; some new, some home made, some Salvation Army.
Ordinary family.
Ordinary possibilities.
Ordinary wants but never hunger.
It's all here, all right now, all right with the world.
The Zen now.
Ordinary, routine, enlightened.
Friday, September 28, 2012
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Amazing Animals
I've seen two amazing animals in beautiful downtown Seattle lately:
Tuesday, as I was on my smoke break at the back door of the office tower where I work, at the back of beyond back door where you are hidden from sight if you are smoking, at the entrance to the underground parking garage back door, anyway, I was admiring the concrete retaining wall lining the drive to the aforementioned underground parking. This wall starts at about four feet tall and gradually becomes taller as the drive descends -- except -- for this hiccup where the wall might be two inches shorter. At the top of the this wall and beyond, between the building and the I-5 corridor, is a "V" shape of land full of lush Pacific Northwest vegetation. I can also watch the planes descending towards SeaTac, lots of planes, but that's neither here nor there. The I-5 corridor has no part in this story either I'm just trying to orient you to the full picture, but for now disregard I-5 and concentrate on the space. So here is a level retaining wall gradually getting steeper due to the drive way going down, when here comes a silly squirrel scampering down the drive looking lovingly up at the vegetation four feet above him, of course it might be a her, but for now I'm going with him. It seemed as though he couldn't figure out how to get at the plants. I'm thinking poor squirrel, silly dumb animal he can't get to the bushes from here -- except -- he goes to the exact spot where the wall is barely two inches shorter (remember I said there was a hiccup in the drive where the wall was shorter) this squirrel goes to that exact spot and hops up with the ease of a bubble and disappears into the plants.
At first I was amazed at how smart he was, but on reflection I decided if your life depended on leaping from branch to branch you too would be hard-wired in gaging two inch differences.
Life is always educational -- AND -- entertaining.
But, I saw two amazing animals so now I will tell you about the other one:
Early one quiet Sunday morning as I was on my smoke break, since it was Sunday and no pedestrians around at six-ish in the morning I was brazenly smoking in the front of the building, I was looking down the way at nothing in particular when I saw a strange, strange black animal scurry across the street and slither up the block as close to the buildings as it could get. Two restaurants sit on that block and I had a perfect view as this strange animal crawled up the street slowly and methodically. I was stymied as to what kind of animal it was. It was too big to be a rodent, it was too flattened to be a cat or dog. I've never seen a badger except on T.V., but the way it scurried I thought that reminds me of a badger and asked myself have badgers been urbanized like coyotes and such. Fascinated I watched as the animal came up alongside the buildings, hesitate at the corner and then continue to scurry across the street all the time getting closer and closer. It scurried down a driveway of a building across the street then scurried back out, all the time black and flattened, all the time getting closer -- UNTIL -- the wind picked it up and blew my fascinating animal away.
Black plastic bags can be so tricky.
The moral of the animal stories? There isn't one except even the plastic bag kind can fool me. Does that make me dumber than a plastic bag or just blind?
I was reminded of the time I was observing prairie dogs for a biology assignment in college and my prairie dog flew away in the shape of a bird. Tricky prairie dogs.
I'm glad I will soon be at Greenleaf and viewing real animals -- the four and the two legged kind.
It took me seven tries to get my airplane ticket bought. I was sure I was going to screw up somehow and was trying NOT to call Jean to do it for me. I'm a big girl, I'm smart, I can do this. Well, we will see if I make it to Greenleaf and back home again.
Today is one of those special three son's days. Ian and I will drive to Ballard so Christian can tell someone to change his oil. Then today being Thursday playdate with The Connorman I will see Roger. I haven't seen Stephanie for the last two weeks because she has been working late on some big project. New IPhones anyone?
The last two morning have been deliciously foggy, all the way to my back window.
Hey Amber, I have enjoyed your quotes on Facebook. I'm going to bring you some quote books I have retired. And a book for Jean. And a book for you too Jeff.
Make someone happy today, we are all amazing animals.
Well, some more amazing than others.
Tuesday, as I was on my smoke break at the back door of the office tower where I work, at the back of beyond back door where you are hidden from sight if you are smoking, at the entrance to the underground parking garage back door, anyway, I was admiring the concrete retaining wall lining the drive to the aforementioned underground parking. This wall starts at about four feet tall and gradually becomes taller as the drive descends -- except -- for this hiccup where the wall might be two inches shorter. At the top of the this wall and beyond, between the building and the I-5 corridor, is a "V" shape of land full of lush Pacific Northwest vegetation. I can also watch the planes descending towards SeaTac, lots of planes, but that's neither here nor there. The I-5 corridor has no part in this story either I'm just trying to orient you to the full picture, but for now disregard I-5 and concentrate on the space. So here is a level retaining wall gradually getting steeper due to the drive way going down, when here comes a silly squirrel scampering down the drive looking lovingly up at the vegetation four feet above him, of course it might be a her, but for now I'm going with him. It seemed as though he couldn't figure out how to get at the plants. I'm thinking poor squirrel, silly dumb animal he can't get to the bushes from here -- except -- he goes to the exact spot where the wall is barely two inches shorter (remember I said there was a hiccup in the drive where the wall was shorter) this squirrel goes to that exact spot and hops up with the ease of a bubble and disappears into the plants.
At first I was amazed at how smart he was, but on reflection I decided if your life depended on leaping from branch to branch you too would be hard-wired in gaging two inch differences.
Life is always educational -- AND -- entertaining.
But, I saw two amazing animals so now I will tell you about the other one:
Early one quiet Sunday morning as I was on my smoke break, since it was Sunday and no pedestrians around at six-ish in the morning I was brazenly smoking in the front of the building, I was looking down the way at nothing in particular when I saw a strange, strange black animal scurry across the street and slither up the block as close to the buildings as it could get. Two restaurants sit on that block and I had a perfect view as this strange animal crawled up the street slowly and methodically. I was stymied as to what kind of animal it was. It was too big to be a rodent, it was too flattened to be a cat or dog. I've never seen a badger except on T.V., but the way it scurried I thought that reminds me of a badger and asked myself have badgers been urbanized like coyotes and such. Fascinated I watched as the animal came up alongside the buildings, hesitate at the corner and then continue to scurry across the street all the time getting closer and closer. It scurried down a driveway of a building across the street then scurried back out, all the time black and flattened, all the time getting closer -- UNTIL -- the wind picked it up and blew my fascinating animal away.
Black plastic bags can be so tricky.
The moral of the animal stories? There isn't one except even the plastic bag kind can fool me. Does that make me dumber than a plastic bag or just blind?
I was reminded of the time I was observing prairie dogs for a biology assignment in college and my prairie dog flew away in the shape of a bird. Tricky prairie dogs.
I'm glad I will soon be at Greenleaf and viewing real animals -- the four and the two legged kind.
It took me seven tries to get my airplane ticket bought. I was sure I was going to screw up somehow and was trying NOT to call Jean to do it for me. I'm a big girl, I'm smart, I can do this. Well, we will see if I make it to Greenleaf and back home again.
Today is one of those special three son's days. Ian and I will drive to Ballard so Christian can tell someone to change his oil. Then today being Thursday playdate with The Connorman I will see Roger. I haven't seen Stephanie for the last two weeks because she has been working late on some big project. New IPhones anyone?
The last two morning have been deliciously foggy, all the way to my back window.
Hey Amber, I have enjoyed your quotes on Facebook. I'm going to bring you some quote books I have retired. And a book for Jean. And a book for you too Jeff.
Make someone happy today, we are all amazing animals.
Well, some more amazing than others.
Friday, September 14, 2012
Long Lost Friends
My friend Lynn was contacted by an old high school friend. Someone remembering, nostalgically perhaps, perhaps about her youth, and wanted to connect. Some people never leave those youthful connections behind. They remain connected for years, from childhood to adulthood into imminent old age. I was struck by the coincident of both Lynn and I having long lost acquaintances reach out; Ray McLain to me and Lynn's friend who gave her a mouse on her sixteenth birthday.
Roger had a friend find him after years of disconnect. They discussed the fact that if they were five years younger they never would have lost touch in the first place due to Facebook, email, the Internet, social networking. I imagine staying put in one location helps like my friend Carol or brother Jerry.
What really got me wondering was the fact of reaching out. Ray said he got involved in reaching back through time by helping with the Northeast High School reunions. I guess that would get you thinking "I wonder what happened to so and so."
I'm fascinated by these childhood acquaintance's contacts. Are we at an age where reaching out for something, I don't know, lost maybe, is surfacing? Are people at a quieter time in their life and feeling something pull them backwards, something unfinished? I never went on the Internet to find old acquaintances, friends, lovers, long lost people.
Or are they just curious by nature. More curious than me. I don't feel the urge. I have no lost friends I'm searching for. As I passed through life it always felt done with, nothing left undone. Or maybe I brought it along with me on my back, like the proverbial turtle I claim to be. What is wrong with me that I don't feel a need or a desire. Did I flash though life too quick -- San Diego one day, New York the next. There is a dichotomie not answered; too quick or too slow.
I don't feel the urge but am enjoying the connections, old friends I do happen upon accidentally thrills me beyond belief. So what is the connection? Still wondering.
A final five-cent analysis; I don't think it is a deep mystery, but instead a personality type, genetic of course, some people do, some people don't. Some people jump off of cliffs, some people shuffle along on the sidewalk.
Speaking of shuffling, our families resident shuffler, a certain Mr Tal Bowman who shall remain nameless, has told me I can't die. That seemed unreasonable to me, and just a tad selfish. If his ticker can give out or explode at any moment well then so can mine.
Sometimes I would rather fail spectacularly than succeed incrementally. Dichotomies number two; too fast or too slow? All my greatest successes were when I slowed down and did it right. I'm not a risk taker, I don't put it all on one throw of the dice. I'm actually quite conservative in that area. I plan and ponder and make lists, but I will hit some kind of wall and say that's it I'm done. I can't guess what that makes me.
Here is a dainty tidbit. Guess when Ian's next trip to Florida is? You guessed it, right in the middle of my Greenleaf trip. Guess who won't be here to give him a ride to and from the airport. Truly this is getting embarrassing. He swears he has it covered. He will take me to the airport and he has a ride home. Son's a special kind of love.
Here's to long lost friends.
Friends; love of another sort.
Roger had a friend find him after years of disconnect. They discussed the fact that if they were five years younger they never would have lost touch in the first place due to Facebook, email, the Internet, social networking. I imagine staying put in one location helps like my friend Carol or brother Jerry.
What really got me wondering was the fact of reaching out. Ray said he got involved in reaching back through time by helping with the Northeast High School reunions. I guess that would get you thinking "I wonder what happened to so and so."
I'm fascinated by these childhood acquaintance's contacts. Are we at an age where reaching out for something, I don't know, lost maybe, is surfacing? Are people at a quieter time in their life and feeling something pull them backwards, something unfinished? I never went on the Internet to find old acquaintances, friends, lovers, long lost people.
Or are they just curious by nature. More curious than me. I don't feel the urge. I have no lost friends I'm searching for. As I passed through life it always felt done with, nothing left undone. Or maybe I brought it along with me on my back, like the proverbial turtle I claim to be. What is wrong with me that I don't feel a need or a desire. Did I flash though life too quick -- San Diego one day, New York the next. There is a dichotomie not answered; too quick or too slow.
I don't feel the urge but am enjoying the connections, old friends I do happen upon accidentally thrills me beyond belief. So what is the connection? Still wondering.
A final five-cent analysis; I don't think it is a deep mystery, but instead a personality type, genetic of course, some people do, some people don't. Some people jump off of cliffs, some people shuffle along on the sidewalk.
Speaking of shuffling, our families resident shuffler, a certain Mr Tal Bowman who shall remain nameless, has told me I can't die. That seemed unreasonable to me, and just a tad selfish. If his ticker can give out or explode at any moment well then so can mine.
Sometimes I would rather fail spectacularly than succeed incrementally. Dichotomies number two; too fast or too slow? All my greatest successes were when I slowed down and did it right. I'm not a risk taker, I don't put it all on one throw of the dice. I'm actually quite conservative in that area. I plan and ponder and make lists, but I will hit some kind of wall and say that's it I'm done. I can't guess what that makes me.
Here is a dainty tidbit. Guess when Ian's next trip to Florida is? You guessed it, right in the middle of my Greenleaf trip. Guess who won't be here to give him a ride to and from the airport. Truly this is getting embarrassing. He swears he has it covered. He will take me to the airport and he has a ride home. Son's a special kind of love.
Here's to long lost friends.
Friends; love of another sort.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Pet Peeves and Passion
I've been sick, I've been happy, I've been depressed, I've been disgruntled, I've been burnt-out, I've been ecstatic, joyful, lonely, entertained, and just about any and all other emotions available. Yep, it's been a busy month.
I OD'd on emotional candy with the pictures of Connor Roger posted on Facebook. Who knew a photograph of a little boys backside could produce such a powerful reaction. Who knew your heart could melt with a few digital pixels. Positively ecstatic.
I've been disgruntled by disgruntled people. It seemed like the last month has brought on a storm of people just under the "it's okay" bar. It seemed like no one was happy about anything, not haircuts, schedules, cookie quality, parking spaces or spouses.
I've discovered I have a pet peeve: People who don't bring their mothers to work. If they don't want to clean up after themselves the least they could do is bring their mothers to do it for them.
I've been hugging the home boundaries. Since no family came to visit The Inn at Mukilteo I took a few days off, just because, and didn't do one single productive thing, it made me happy -- although family would have been better. I think I spent three days in my tee shirt and underwear. Oops maybe too much information.
I'm having fun looking forward to Greenleaf. And some fast food you can't find West of the Cascade Mountains, Sonic, Schloztskys here I come. And I'm looking forward to family fun and fellowship, absolutely.
I've been entertained by my friend Lynn's photographs on her blog, all the Facebook posts from Southend and points west, Judy's sparkly shoes, kids going back to school, my friend Carol's condo buying adventures, Ian's baby gift tutu making adventures, Roger and Stephanie's travels, Lynn's travels, and Christian missing Bo. Sweet.
The near death pain from my degenerative disc: cervical flare up is finally under control. Now I know, for sure, what a pain in the neck really means. Is this where I apologize. The real trouble is you can't remove your neck, you can't keep from ageing, and sometimes there isn't enough pain killer in the world to make the pain go away. The doctor has promised anti-inflammatory medicine and I'll keep Christian and his marijuana stash as plan B.
I'm a wee bit burnt-out trying to take work seriously, by right and left politics, Chick Fil A politics, presidential politics, any and all politics.
Lynn and I made a pilgrimage to La Connor to the Calico Cupboard for breakfast and I feasted on the second best bran muffins in the world. I've had their bran muffins at their other locations in Anacortes and Mt Vernon -- they never disappoint. Is this a political view?
I've had fun writing birthday limericks. It started by accident with Jean and Jeff. I'm going to try to keep it going for a year. Whoo Boy!
I have a new neon pink bra -- oops too much information again, new glasses, new hair cut, new pedi, see life isn't all junk. I've given away another 100 books. I had a good birthday month. Lots of treats and attention.
Roger carries gel-packs for his training runs, rides, jogs and such which Connor is not allowed. So, I found some pureed fruit in packaging that looks just like a gel-pack and took him some. When his Momma came home she was reading the package and said, out loud, "Fruit Pal" Connor grabbed the package, and pretending to read it, said "It doesn't say 'Fruit Pal' it says 'NOT Fruit Pal.'" So now you know. He has his very own big boy gel-packs.
The junk in my life is okay because it is interspersed with so much good. You know the old adage about you have to kiss a few frogs to find a prince, well I've been kissing frogs lately. Reading a lot of average books to find the gem. Watching a lot of average, well average to bad movies, to find the treasures.
And isn't all the junk a part of life, potato peelings are part of my world. Where did I read about the peaks and valleys, valleys aren't a bad place to be. Life isn't all ecstasy and adventure like fine crystal that begins as lowly sand, is forged in fire and then polished to brilliance. Life is also about naps.
Is their anything much more satisfying then a good nap.
Oh, and I won another pair of shoes.
I OD'd on emotional candy with the pictures of Connor Roger posted on Facebook. Who knew a photograph of a little boys backside could produce such a powerful reaction. Who knew your heart could melt with a few digital pixels. Positively ecstatic.
I've been disgruntled by disgruntled people. It seemed like the last month has brought on a storm of people just under the "it's okay" bar. It seemed like no one was happy about anything, not haircuts, schedules, cookie quality, parking spaces or spouses.
I've discovered I have a pet peeve: People who don't bring their mothers to work. If they don't want to clean up after themselves the least they could do is bring their mothers to do it for them.
I've been hugging the home boundaries. Since no family came to visit The Inn at Mukilteo I took a few days off, just because, and didn't do one single productive thing, it made me happy -- although family would have been better. I think I spent three days in my tee shirt and underwear. Oops maybe too much information.
I'm having fun looking forward to Greenleaf. And some fast food you can't find West of the Cascade Mountains, Sonic, Schloztskys here I come. And I'm looking forward to family fun and fellowship, absolutely.
I've been entertained by my friend Lynn's photographs on her blog, all the Facebook posts from Southend and points west, Judy's sparkly shoes, kids going back to school, my friend Carol's condo buying adventures, Ian's baby gift tutu making adventures, Roger and Stephanie's travels, Lynn's travels, and Christian missing Bo. Sweet.
The near death pain from my degenerative disc: cervical flare up is finally under control. Now I know, for sure, what a pain in the neck really means. Is this where I apologize. The real trouble is you can't remove your neck, you can't keep from ageing, and sometimes there isn't enough pain killer in the world to make the pain go away. The doctor has promised anti-inflammatory medicine and I'll keep Christian and his marijuana stash as plan B.
I'm a wee bit burnt-out trying to take work seriously, by right and left politics, Chick Fil A politics, presidential politics, any and all politics.
Lynn and I made a pilgrimage to La Connor to the Calico Cupboard for breakfast and I feasted on the second best bran muffins in the world. I've had their bran muffins at their other locations in Anacortes and Mt Vernon -- they never disappoint. Is this a political view?
I've had fun writing birthday limericks. It started by accident with Jean and Jeff. I'm going to try to keep it going for a year. Whoo Boy!
I have a new neon pink bra -- oops too much information again, new glasses, new hair cut, new pedi, see life isn't all junk. I've given away another 100 books. I had a good birthday month. Lots of treats and attention.
Roger carries gel-packs for his training runs, rides, jogs and such which Connor is not allowed. So, I found some pureed fruit in packaging that looks just like a gel-pack and took him some. When his Momma came home she was reading the package and said, out loud, "Fruit Pal" Connor grabbed the package, and pretending to read it, said "It doesn't say 'Fruit Pal' it says 'NOT Fruit Pal.'" So now you know. He has his very own big boy gel-packs.
The junk in my life is okay because it is interspersed with so much good. You know the old adage about you have to kiss a few frogs to find a prince, well I've been kissing frogs lately. Reading a lot of average books to find the gem. Watching a lot of average, well average to bad movies, to find the treasures.
And isn't all the junk a part of life, potato peelings are part of my world. Where did I read about the peaks and valleys, valleys aren't a bad place to be. Life isn't all ecstasy and adventure like fine crystal that begins as lowly sand, is forged in fire and then polished to brilliance. Life is also about naps.
Is their anything much more satisfying then a good nap.
Oh, and I won another pair of shoes.
Sunday, September 2, 2012
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