Ghosts of Halloweens Past

Happy Halloween to You!

Head Wars

It seems that my body has been at war with a cold for days.  Most of the time it appears that a cold-free state will prevail, but then my throat complains or my ear squawks with built-up fluid and I wonder if the body will succumb.  This battlefield demands a lot of energy, and fatigue strikes out of nowhere on a regular basis.

Experiencing the prevalence of wars - bodies against disease; aphids attacking the kale in my garden and then my intention to annihilate those pesky critters with a solution of oil, dish soap and water; our battle against the mouse invasion a couple of years ago where we strongly stated "Not On Our Turf"; not to mention the struggles between young kids when one kidnaps the toys of another - I wonder if war is not one of the most natural and fundamental actions on this planet. 

Everything wants to survive and sometimes survival means stepping on someone's foot, or eating their kale, or bringing them down with a cold.

So what is this crazy lady's point? 

Heck if I know.

The brain-fog created by this invasion of cold germs has not made me a lover of wars.  I still can't condone the violence and killing that is being done by my fellow countrypeople - or anyone else, for that matter. 

So where do we draw the line?  Do we go no further than the point where our life is threatened by bacteria and we employ antibiotics?  Do we stop at the point where the aphids die from our concoction, allowing us to have our daily requirement of greens?  Or do we respond with killing when we feel our country is threatened even though we would never wage war preemptively?

Between the inner battle of germ vs. immune system and amidst the backdrop of the panel I attended a couple of days ago - a panel of veterans who are against the wars we find ourselves in - I am wondering about the views of war's proponents.  I'm guessing that they believe that they are as right as I have been known to believe myself to be.  I haven't been very open to hearing their views -kind of like the way I don't care about the needs of the aphids and mice.

Hmmmmm... Maybe it's time to, for once, put away my fears and prejudices and listen to those who see so differently from me.

We'll see if I still believe that once this head is cleared of all symptoms cold related.  ;-)

Gratitude For All The Hues

A few days ago, we went to a screening of Welcome to Shelbyville.  It's about a small town in Tennessee and its struggles to come to terms with change as Somalian refugees move in to create new lives.  It's fascinating to watch people come up against themselves, against their fears and hard-held beliefs of the way life should be.





We were part of an audience that included people of all races and nationalities, including people from Somalia.  It was beautiful to be together, looking at prejudice head-on.

The world is such a rich mosaic of peoples and colors and textures and opportunities.  Why would we want to rid it of any of the beauty it was made to have?


Speaking of a beautiful mosaics, here is what I get to see outside my door every fall.





Puts a smile on my face every day!

I've Got Feet!

My eyes are too big, my nose is too flat, my ears stick out, my mouth is too big and my face is too small... my body is thin as a clarinet and my ankles are so skinny that I wear two pairs of bobby socks because I don't want people to see how thin they are. - Goldie Hawn

Reading that quote, I wonder... eyes too big for what?  Nose to flat for what?  What's wrong with ears sticking out?  Who said that all of these body parts need to be a certain way?  And if you can name the person who said that, can you tell me who anointed him or her as The Decider?  (Anyway, GWB already took that title...)

It's all about what we believe.  Not about the truth of the matter at all.

As a kid, I was told that soon we would need to get me boats instead of shoes.  Soooooo like all kids who don't want to wear boats for shoes (in the middle of Kansas, no less), I began to squish up my toes every time I tried on new shoes.  No one said I was the brightest star in the sky...

Since my wonderful son and daughter inherited the feet that can be used as skis when necessary, I decided that I would always tell them that long feet are a sign of intelligence.  I'll have to ask them if they believed me.

I really don't have a problem with the size of my feet any longer.  And actually, it's not my feet that are large.  It's these toes.  Finger toes, as they've been called.  They have been a blessing and a curse.  When I was young, I would use them to pick up things off of my floor when cleaning my bedroom.  That was useful.  The hard part about these long digits is that, still today, I don't know where I end!  I have kicked more walls and doors and vacuum cleaners and chair legs than I can count.  My toes are messed up from that.  I sometimes wonder if I'll be able to walk when I hit a ripe old age.

Anyway, more and more women have feet as large as mine now.  I'm in good company.  It's just that I don't like to wear whites or stripes or bright colors that draw attention to my feet.  I don't like to see big boats moving out of the corner of my eye and then realize that those are not boats; they're my feet!

Truthfully, honestly, I LOVE my feet.  They have carried me up eight mountains over 14,000 feet high.  They have taken me through snow to immaculate backcountry scenes that have filled my heart.  They helped me to pace back and forth in the dark with sweet babies who didn't realize that I needed to sleep at night.

These are the best feet I could ever have!  So, in honor of my sweet-smellin', beautiful-lookin' feet, today I put on the pair of striped, finger-toed socks that have been sitting silently in the back of my drawer.

For YOU, G.G. and Dancing!

(I think it's your turn now, G.G.)  :-)

Sixty Years!

We were awesome, my brother and I, with perfect planning and execution.  The day was gorgeous, cool and Autumny.  The people were warm and supportive.  What a beautiful moment to celebrate my parents' 60 years of marriage!

I did all kinds of things to set up surprises.  I secretly asked for friends and family, far and near, to write their memories of my parents.  Everyone I asked came through with their own brand of writing style and unique memories.  I put the writings together in a book, and I was once again amazed at how we each add our particular piece to make a beautiful quilt of life.

My big coup was to have an unexpected guest show up.  It began quite by accident.  The list of invitees only included local people.  But during a phone call, I gathered that my mom's cousin from New Mexieo just might come.  So I took it upon myself to secretly invite her and her husband.  When they showed up, I thought we would have a Kodak moment, my mom dancing and crying and Oh, My Goodnessing.  Instead, she just looked at them like Who Are You And Why Are You Here?  I didn't realize that my mom wouldn't immediately recognize her cousin who she's known for 63 years, but hasn't seen for quite awhile.  Once my mom did realize who this strange woman was, things did get a little Kodaky.  It was all good.

Mom and her cousin

Cheers to the couple who have been together for so long!  Through raising two kids (and I think that I truly put them through some challenging tests); through fun times and times of loss; and through sickness and health.  I honestly doubt that there has been a moment in their marriage where either of them considered calling it quits.  They have been one committed team for SIXTY YEARS.

The lovely couple

Haven't Yet Found The Cure

I'll be back once I get over this AntiBloggerItis.

I don't think it's terminal.

In the meantime, here is a beeeeyutiful version of a George Harrison song.  Really, this guy is impressive!

A Bloomin' Fence!

Photo by Judy DeHaas, The Denver Post

As I read this article this morning, I thought of 1) what a difference the little touches of beauty in life can make, and 2) what a great idea for G.G., even though she might do it in knitting, not crocheting.  And I know she would need to wait until she has finished her gazillion Super Bowl scarves.


 From today's Denver Post:

Her street name is "Esther."

She and her masked, hook-wielding crochet cronies have taken responsibility for the yarn bomb along a block of 16th Street between Wewatta and Union Station in Denver.

Her gang of five, also known as the Ladies Fancywork Society, made a chain-link fence warm and fuzzy, covering it with 30 panels, each 12 feet long and some 8 feet high, of crocheted flowers and garden creatures.

Blooms of vivid pinks, reds, yellows, greens, blues, purples cling to silvery metal.

It took six weeks to make the handiwork and 20,000 zip ties to attach it.

The crocheted garden sounds wonderful - I'll have to go down there and visit - but there is more! 

... this garden, with the help of sound artist Jim Green, talks to you.

"That's a great outfit!" a resonant, disembodied voice booms out in surprise salutation.

There are 17 affirmations in very friendly male and female voices, which come from solar-powered speakers triggered by motion sensors.

"Hello there! You look good today!"

There is always a double take. Some jump. Often a hand flies to the mouth or throat. Some people say thanks or give a wave of their hand.

I love it!

Happy Birthday, Dear Buddha!

Well, I had to come out of the cave in order to celebrate Buddha Dog's 14th birthday, didn't I???

This morning, Mr. CfP and I loved all over the furry guy and, in celebration, I shared some of my morning sauerkraut* with the birthday boy.  He LOVES sauerkraut! 

Last night, we started Buddha on a medication which was suggested as a result of his echocardiogram.  It already seems to be helping -  I never noticed his gaggy cough during the night and I haven't heard it this morning!  If it makes life a little easier for the guy, I'm all for it.

I was starting to think that it was sad that I can't play "rope" with Buddha for his birthday.  I can't chase him around the house like I used to and we can't hike for hours.  Then I realized that, for my birthday, as I, ahem, "mature", I no longer want to play pin-the-tail on the donkey and I don't want to go out to a bar and drink too much.  Who's to say that Buddha doesn't want a celebration more appropriate for his wise, elder age?  Maybe he'd rather just enjoy some sauerkraut?

My favorite photo - Buddha all ready for a 3D movie

*   This is how weird I am:  My usual breakfast consists of a small bowl of sauerkraut - either homemade or the good stuff from the health food store - and two pieces of dry toast made from Elana's Pantry's gluten free, almond flour bread recipe.  Super yum!