Like Waves on the Ocean

It was only a month ago that I posted (again) about how my dad and his four brothers, all WWII vets, were still hanging around on this earth. That all has changed now that my dad's brother, Glenn, has passed on. He was 92.

I don't know how many pregnancies my grandmother experienced. I believe that some ended in stillbirths. Glenn was the first to survive childbirth - the first of five, all boys. Besides those five boys, my grandmother raised two step-sons. What a woman!!!

Early in my life, Glenn's family lived in the same nearby town as my grandmother, so we were able to spend a good amount of time with them. But they moved to Illinois in the mid-60s and I may have only seen Glenn two times after that.

I can honestly say that I never knew the man. We had absolutely no relationship. My only memories of him are from a very early age and involve him talking. A lot. Since I was a kid at the time, I never hung around enough to hear what all of the blathering was about.

The talking gene is very prevalent and strong on my father's side of my family of birth. I didn't seem to inherit it, though. I think that if it's within me, I turned it off in response to all of the talk around me. I remember thinking that if I didn't say anything or ask any questions, I wouldn't encourage more yakking.

That never worked.

Goodbye, Uncle Glenn. I know that you were more than the limited memories I have. I'm sorry that I never got to know you. Sweet voyages to you.

Poor Air Quality

I'm home.

The faux skunk (a.k.a. Buddha, the dog) is sitting on the floor next to me.

I AM NOT ready to come back from vacation!!!

I just got done giving Buddha what I am guessing is his 4th bath in the last week. Getting him into the tub is like trying to drag a mule somewhere where he has no intention of going. Sill, I managed to succeed all by myself!

This morning, my mom told me what Housesitter Son hasn't told me yet - that Buddha got skunked AGAIN a couple of days ago.

Twice in one week.

This smell is the gift that keeps on giving.

I'm wondering where the little black-and-white-striped stinkin' sprayer animal is living and I'm a little intimidated at the thought of trying to find out.

I could possibly live with the smell of eau de skunk for as long as necessary (not enjoying it, but there ARE worse things) but I have a gathering scheduled to take place here this coming weekend.

Thinking about skunks, the song below comes to mind - even though our little friend is not dead in the middle of the road.

Protecting Playful Piping Plovers

The Piping Plover is a threatened species. A part of Duxbury Beach is closed off in order to protect these birds.

Mr. Carol For Peace & I arrived on the beach yesterday morning and as we walked on the bay side, we saw a mom Plover and her three darling little babies, about three inches tall, running around on the sand. They had strayed away from their protected area - there's always a renegade in the bunch, isn't there? Mom P didn't like the fact that we were close to her babies, so she did her best to distract us. Out of respect for the family's privacy, we turned back.

Later, I, in my big, black hat, and Mr. CFP in his non-hat, stood with about 100 others at the beach as a part of the Hands Across the Sand world-wide gathering to make a statement regarding our need for clean energy.




We didn't change the world through this action, but it was a joy to take a moment to join together with people who care.

The Further Adventures

So.

I went to the dermatologist two days before I left to come to the Cape. Being of the fair type, I was lucky enough to warrant the removal of FIVE little "blemishes" on my face. The doctor told me that I would be fine in time for FAMILY FOTOS 7 days later, which has now become tomorrow. She was wrong. I look like I fell on my face. For a week I've been doing my best at being humble. But today I bought some kind of make-up cover-up stuff and, well, I wish that I would have done it a long time ago. From a distance, I almost look like myself.

Oh the things we do...

So.

I opened up Facebook two days ago, only to read the top message, which was posted by Mr. Son House-sitter. It said, and I quote:

Parents dog got sprayed by a skunk at 230 in the morning. The smell is still hanging around, since I unwittingly let him in the house. Never really smelled it that intensely before. I hope febreeze works as well as I hear (for the house, not the dog).

Lovely.

WHO LETS THEIR DOG OUT AT 2:30 IN THE MORNING???

Good luck with it all Mr. Son...


So.

Today Mr. CfP and I ventured out to Provincetown, but on the way, we did some investigating of the Wellfleet Bay Wildlife Sanctuary.

Mr. Turtle at the Wildlife Sanctuary

In Provincetown, Massachusetts
The gaudiest buildings in town. I had to go get me some Shop Therapy (whatever that is).

The anniversary celebrations begin tomorrow. (Up to now, we've just been practicing.)

You Say It's Your Birthday!

Below are all of the birthday presents that I received as a result of my quest to know what brings you joy and can't be taken away, except maybe by death.

Thank you for sharing the joy! There are no right or wrong, good or bad answers to my question. The beauty is in the sharing of our uniqueness.

I found that I could relate to every one of the answers I received. Maybe you will, too. Even with our uniqueness, there is a thread that ties us all together.

I hope that the answers below give you pause to consider the beauty of joy in all of our lives.

And I hope you don't go blind trying to read the words below. I put this together before we left for the east coast and it is what it is.

Again, thank you, from the bottom of my pea-pickin' heart!











A late entry:
My source of joy, which could be taken from me, if they ever decide that coffee is 100% bad for you, or if I can no longer afford fresh coffee beans...a simple daily ritual that brings me joy: getting up before my husband, or the "kids" (when they're sleeping under the same roof), grinding some French roast beans, then brewing them slowly. I stand at the kitchen window, looking out at the foothills, inhaling what to me is one of the most comforting aromas--fresh dark coffee. The first sip is the best. I often have it in an ugly mug that is of sentimental value to me. Even if this ritual were taken from me, I'd find something else. It's the repetition of simple familiar actions--pulling the grinder off the top shelf, getting out the bag of beans, opening it to have a whiff, setting the grinder to the correct intensity, pouring in the sweet water from our own well, waiting for the magic to happen...it's the ritual that matters. Before the others are up, the house is quiet, and it's my quiet time to indulge.

So Happy Together

We had barely arrived in the town where we will be staying this week when Mr. CFP and I came upon this big dark gray thing on the road. It took a few seconds to register in my brain that it was a HUGE snapping turtle. How do you write the sound of the squealing of brakes applied with urgency? I say it something like ErrrrErrrrErrrr! But I don't know how to write it. We pulled over and checked out this mini-dinosaur-looking creature.

Later, we took our first beach walk/hat test. The breeze kept trying to steal my hat.

No schedule for today yet. After all, it's vacation time!

Happy Father's Day to all you dads out there!

Lord, I Was Born a Travel'in (Wo)Man

Here I am. On the East Coast. Where the air is heavy, where I actually SWEAT in the shade, and where I hear the sounds of birds whose names I don't know. We haven't landed on the Cape yet, but we're on our way.

I miss my Buddha dog. He always knows what those big blue things mean - the things that his mom and dad get out of the garage and fill full of their stuff before THEY LEAVE HIM. As we walk out the door and tell him we'll be gone awhile, but we'll be back, as we tell him that his favorite step-brother will be there with him, he barely makes eye contact and he pouts to make us feel as guilty as possible. He is in good hands, though. My favorite man, next to Mr. CFP, will be staying there with him.

After we arrived last night, I got to meet my newest niece, an almost two-year-old who already knows a thing or two about a thing or two. When it was time for her to leave, she wasn't at a point where she would give me a hug yet, but I did get a high five (completely her idea). I hope that I don't fall in love. If I fall in love with a young'un, it's too hard to leave because I miss being around to see all the growing and changing. But then again, it does a heart good to keep falling in love. I think I'll risk it.

I am loved.

The night before we left, my two favoritest young people took us out to dinner.

Hands Across the Sand

From the website:

Hands Across the Sand is a movement made of people of all walks of life and crosses political affiliations. This movement is not about politics; it is about protection of our coastal economies, oceans, marine wildlife, and fishing industry. Let us share our knowledge, energies and passion for protecting all of the above from the devastating effects of oil drilling.

• Go to your beach on June 26 at 11 AM in your time zone.
• Form lines in the sand and at 12:00, join hands.

The image is powerful, the message is simple. NO to Offshore Oil Drilling, YES to Clean Energy.

The image is powerful, the message is simple. NO to Offshore Oil Drilling, YES to Clean Energy.

I will actually be on a beach on the East Coast on June 26th and will be standing hand in hand with others in solidarity with the statement that we want no more offshore drilling.

Check out the map on the website to find a location near you. There are actions taking place along oceans, rivers, and lakes all around the world.

It doesn't escape my awareness that I will be standing on a beach on the Atlantic coast only because I flew in a plane that is most likely fueled by a product of offshore drilling. And I'm typing on a computer that is using electricity that is created by... well, I don't even know.

Offer Ends Today!

If you haven't taken the opportunity to be impermanently recorded for all posterity, today's the day. Act now; offer ends today at 6:00 p.m., Mountain Time (around 1:00 a.m., UK time, I believe).

I'm looking for joy! I'm absorbing all of the joy I can find in this lead-up to the solstice (which is also the anniversary of my birth, which took place at a time when yes, there was television, but the view was all black and white).

If you aren't aware of my request for joy, please click here and then, if you are just oozing with possibilities, please share them with me. It's a gift. To yourself. And to me. And to all of my 21,546 readers. Ha!

On June 21st, I will be sharing all of the joy with anyone who happens upon this blog. At that time, I'll be in far off lands, celebratin', but I'll still have a computer and I'll still be thinkin' of you!

As of now, my daughter is in town (talk about joy!) and we've been doing girly things. She holds my hand and MAKES me walk through stores. Stores! Not my favorite environments, unless they are full of fresh vegetables. But these stores have been full of clothes. I have finally found myself the perfect Derby hat!


Not for Derby goin', but for standing in the beatin' down, Colorado sun every Saturday. And also for takin' to the far off land where I hear there are beaches. A girl has to have somethin' to protect her fair skin from the elements.

And my daughter and I have been sharing thoughts and dreams that could not be shared in such ways until now. Some things have to wait until a certain amount of life experience has occurred. She and I are barely mother and daughter now. She is a capable woman who is my friend. How lucky I am!

Now I've come full circle: joy, stores, hats, daughters, dreams, and more joy, for all of the above fills me with such happiness.

Impermanent Joy #4

Family.

They may make us crazy sometimes, but they are a gift.


Family photo taken at my daughter's wedding in 2001. Ex-in-laws, current in-laws, ex-husband, current husband, son, daughter and many more.

Impermanent: One divorce has occurred since the photo was taken. One person has passed on since then. Three of the young'uns have graduated from high school. I've gotten old.

Nothing appears to ever stay the same.

The thread that runs through it all is love.

Impermanent Joy #3

Friends.

Oh, what a night!

Mr. Carol For Peace and I spent the evening with ghosts from the past.

I graduated from high school almost a gazillion years ago. I haven't been to a reunion in a long time and I don't really have any friends left from high school, even though I moved back to Colorado 20 years ago.

In high school, I was so SHY... Oh my. I can't tell you how SHY I was. Now I'm shy. Then I was SHY. And I came from a strict family where I wasn't allowed to do things that most high school kids do. AND I always felt like I was "less than" most of my classmates. An invisible, SHY, young thing.

But growing up and Facebook are both amazing healers.

Through Facebook, I was invited to join a bunch of classmates at a winery where we celebrated life. One classmate has recovered from a liver/kidney transplant and another has had a successful surgery to minimize his Parkinson's symptoms. How fitting that we should be celebrating their lives. It's actually pretty nice to go to a Celebration of Life when the person you're celebrating is still alive!

And guess what!?! People remembered me! I belonged! It was so much fun!

We talked about so-and-so and him and her, where is she now, what is he doing?

We caught up with each other as if we were long-lost family.

Did I tell you it was wonderful? It was wonderful.

Friends come and go. Sometimes we grieve the loss, sometimes we're relieved.

Sometimes friends come back and we may discover that we are not who we thought we were.

Impermanent Joy #2

A few years ago, I did my first Vision Quest. The wind was howling as I tried to create my little shelter by tying my big, silver tarp to an old, ragged juniper tree on one side and some large, sandstone rocks on the other. The wind and I worked against each other for what seemed like hours. Every time I thought I had the tarp all nice and tight, it would sag somewhere. A saggy tarp is a nice place for water to puddle. Since it was looking like rain was coming in, I felt an urgent need to create a useful shelter from the storm.

At one point, a corner grommet tore off of my tarp. I would say that at that moment, despair was a possible option. Not that it would solve my problem.

THEN I remembered a trick that I was taught. The technique was suggested as a way to tighten the middle of a tarp, but I figured that it just might work for a corner as well. Sure enough, I successfully tied up a little pebble in the corner of the tarp and that created a little "button" that I could wrap the rope around in order to tie up that corner.

I don't know how to convey the exhilarating feeling of empowerment that moment gave me.

I got my tarp all prettied-up right before the rains started and pulled my pack and sleeping bag in before they got wet.

The joy that I felt when I figured out how to handle my situation seems to be an illusive sort of thing, so I keep that piece of torn-off tarp on my desk as a reminder that I have everything I need.






P.S. If you haven't yet done so, please send me your answer to the 64 million dollar question. You'll be happy you did. (I hope.) Just click here to find out how.

Impermanent Joy #1

Thank you to all who have responded to my Joyful Request -whether by email, comment, or through filling out my contact form. I'm TRYING not to respond to responses received. They are yours - not for me to like or dislike or relate to or nuthin'. They are your life, your art. On the solstice, I will compile them into one blog post and we will have a joyful quilt.

If you haven't sent me your answer yet, time's a-wastin'! Act now! Offer expires... ummm... soon! Click here to find out about this exciting opportunity!

~~~~~

Before the frosts had stopped, I planted pea seeds, hoping that this year, the weather gods would smile upon me and I would have more peas than we could eat. I planted all sugar snap peas - none of that shelling and throwing away pods for me.

There are now Peas on Earth!

And amongst all of the eatin' peas, somehow a sweet pea plant has grown! This is not the eatin' kind. It's just for sweet beauty.

This time of year, I love to find wild sweet peas along the hiking trails. Now I have my very own, right here.

And I can't stop hearing the gravelly sound of Popeye's voice exclaiming "Swee' Pea!"

Joy to the World

Do you have a source of joy in your life that can't be taken away (except possibly by your death)?

That's my question of the month.

It's not an easy question to answer, I realize.

I am asking it of my non-blog-reading friends (almost no one that I know in "real life" reads my blog - isn't THAT interesting???)

I'm also asking that of you.

As a gift to me, would you be willing to tell me what, if anything, is a source of joy for you - a source of joy that can't be taken away? Please answer on my contact form at my old blog by clicking here.

If you have no answer, please also have no worries.

This is not about creating stress.

I have a special day coming up and this is a gift for me. I am unashamedly asking you to help me celebrate this day which will take place as the earth receives the sun for a heavenly number of hours.

When that day arrives, I will share the answers I've received, both from my blog and from people around me. But of course all who respond will remain anonymous.

I'll even answer my own question. Can my answer be anonymous, also???

Joy to the World by Three Dog Night (with some minor changes)

If I were the queen of the world
Tell you what I'd do
I'd throw away the cars and the bars and the war
And send sweet love to you

Joy to the world
All the boys and girls
Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me

Shine a Little Light

This life thing, you know? No one told me that it would be so fascinatin'. No one said that I would be around to watch human beans try to wreck the oceans, each other, and every other livin' creature. Sheesh! You'd think that we never learned nuthin' in all of these gazillions of years on this planet. I mean, how long does it take to figure this stuff out?
And what's REALLY head-itchin' is the fact that us humans can fly people all the way to the moon and back, but we still can't figure out how to get along or
how to plug up a problem once we've made it.






So I was readin' some Alan Watts - a man that I just adore. I wish that I could have met the man before he had to go and die.

But anyway, I was readin' and thinkin' and I came to the not-new conclusion that we need to step back for a minute and look at the bigger picture here.

Instead of always assumin' that things will always turn out because we are the chosen ones or instead of reactin' off of the top of our numb skulls, we ought to take some time out to ponder before we act. And I mean before we go diggin' holes in places we oughtent to be diggin' and before we go bombin' people we oughtent to be bombin', we need to, as the native people of this land say, think about the 7th generation before we act. We can't, as Mr. Einstein said, "...solve problems by using the same kind of thinking we used when we created them."

We gotta start thinkin' outside the box. Maybe we need to start engagin’ our whole beings instead of just our pea brains. Because I know that my brain may think that it wants to be comfortable and to be able to travel to every corner of the earth and to have the best clothes and the most creature comforts possible. But the rest of me knows that I love my children and all livin' things and I would be willin’ to have less in order to be certain that the rest of life doesn't suffer.

So when we're thinkin’ of diggin' deep into the recesses of this planet, maybe we might want to first stop and consider jest what might happen if our plans go awry. And when we're thinkin' about jumpin' on other people's ships or occupyin' other people's countries, we might wanta first stop and think about the fact that them peoples got family and dreams jest like we do, so maybe we should set down with a cuppa tea and try to talk things out before we start to think of hurtin' someone.

Jest sayin’…