how I roll

1 05 2009

DSC_0003It has already been a full week since I saw this little guy enjoying the farmer’s market in Yellow Springs, OH.  No one needs to tell me that the older I get the faster time goes…but YIKES!  Seriously – where DID seven days go?

Unlike a few weeks in my recent past spent lazily reclined on my couch reading book after book (I do miss them!), this week was punctuated with progress.  There was a nagging little post-it note buried on the Mrs.’ bulletin board that now has more things marked OFF than visible.

As morbid as it may seem, one of the things she really wanted to take care of while “I still have my wits about me”, as she put it,  was pre-planning and pre-paying funeral arrangements.  After all, she really liked everything about how things were done for Billy’s, so why not just “ditto” them.  We sat there flipping through the book of memorial folders and thank you notes and she quickly and effortlessly settled on appropriate themes – she decided that Alfred Lord Tennyson‘s poem “Crossing The Bar” didn’t work since she had not been a sailor.  I had to agree.

Later in the day we were talking about the experience and she said that it had been so easy – so free of emotion.  She couldn’t imagine what it would be like making those simple decisions so fraught with grief. We siblings had done the arranging of things for Billy and she fully trusted us with the task. The kinds of situations funeral directors must face on a daily basis is astounding.  I’ll take my job, thank you very much.

This week was momentous too because there is great hope.  An expert who spends his working hours in cobwebby, dank flooded basements – uttered the words I dared to believe possible – “Fixable.  Definitely fixable.”  It was like a mega dose of Super-Complex vitamin B for me…let’s hope that the high lasts long enough to do what needs to be done to get us to the day they actually show up with all the gear on site.

Are those two things off the list what made this week different?  Or had it been the road trip on an unseasonably warm weekend – just getting in my car and driving for 5 hours?  Just two nights away from all the familar things that nag nag nag their way into my brain night after night.  Is stepping away the key to getting things done?

I felt a little like Lucky Chihuahua inside a shopping cart getting to see and go places I don’t normally roam and a tad pampered at that.  Dinner out, breakfast out, long conversations…that’s all it took.  What a lucky dog I am.





(1 – (U/c)2)1/2

19 03 2009

dsc_0009Einstein – time/space physics-and lots of other things I will never understand.  Oh, and one more…the weird thing is that nothing feels weird.  You step back into a space where you just know things and you don’t know how you know.  Maybe your brain was just hybernating.  On a mini-road trip you see the barrels stacked beside the road.

dsc_00081Here is where you will get things that taste just as they should.

dsc_0011Coca-Cola is sweeter even if you are drinking it beside a busy national highway heavy with truck traffic.  But that is part of what you already know.  The food is home made and it will be good.

dsc_0012And there will always be lentejas (lentil stew).  And you will eat and eat and eat and be happy.

dsc_00131And when a bus of jubilado day-trippers (retirees) spills it’s contents out on the sidewalk – the priority for some is to get today’s lottery tickets before they stand in the line at the bathroom and gossip about Fulana. But I knew that too. “Es para hoy!”

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me and my fast

2 01 2009

img_3808Not that kind of fast…this kind of Fast.

It was a perfect day.  One day road trip.

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Playing tag with a Hummer.  I dropped out at 85 mph.

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What’s not to love with dry roads, some blue sky in January and Sirius-XMU to keep me company.

img_38071The only complication was that someone lost a big purple plastic toboggan off their car – it first got creamed by an 18 wheeler then a chunk or two came flying my way.

Final score…on 2 January – Wendy / 10 : Bad roads / 0.





wish you were here…

30 11 2008

img_3923The sky is heavy with the threat of 4″ of snow today.  I know it is coming and I can feel it – enough years in the midwest have given me an internal sensor.  My motivation to get some things done today is reading three years’ of blog entries of someone I’m insanely jealous of (Tongue in Cheek).  Once I get done with my own scribblings, I will work awhile then read awhile…all day long.  She has blogged everyday for the last three years.  I want to be her when I grow up.  

So, I’m sorry I can’t be with you today but I am in the South of France.  All day.  I might be back tomorrow, but I can’t make any promises.

Our first trip to the French Riviera was a long weekend winter road trip from Madrid to Monaco.  Saint-Paul-de-Vence, the medieval village where Marc Chagall is buried was a must see.  The sweetest little hand painted pitcher changed addresses that day and still peeks at me from inside my alacena (cupboard or hutch) now 4,000 miles away from its original home.  Today it reminds me that travel enriches and heals my soul.  

I’m starting to recognize the pattern.  I need total escape days.  If I can just wallow here for a day or two, I’ll re-calibrate and find the necessary resources to get up again.  

Sometimes it comes in the form of a six back-to-back episodes of The Wire.  Or nine hours in bed…if you know me at all, you see red flags.  I’ve operated on very little sleep most of my life and insomniac episodes for months at a time.  But in these last months, it is my favorite time of the day when I am getting ready to enter that space. Deep, dreamless, dropping off of the edge of the world.  Knowing nothing between 11 p.m. and 8 a.m.

I can’t really do anything that requires conversations with anyone outside my tightest circle before noon when I’m here in the north.  After two or three cafe con leches and quiet computer time, I might get something accomplished by early afternoon.  It is now past noon, I’ll work a bit then treat myself to some more reading.

A perfect Sunday afternoon in the South of France…