One hour outside

I have been sick. Which, for the most part, keeps me at home.
All feverish and snuggled up and sniffling over here, I’m appreciative that I have a safe and comfortable place to withdraw to as this has not always been the case.
But being here so much gets me yearning for being outside, for having the drive that puts me out the door.
And I think about how sheltered I am during a regular week when I work and how, Monday through Friday, I’m outside only when in transition from one place to another.
Weekends, sure, are a free for all (last weekend when I was healthy I walked and played on a frozen pond and dillydallied in a park, climbing on an icy fountain… not so worried about weekends).
But this five day per week outside-deprivation makes me wonder what would happen if I made it a point to spend some time outside every day. What if I scheduled an hour? Doable, right? Yet thinking about this modest amount of time, one hour out of twenty-four, a non-transition hour, a time where if I walk I would walk to walk and then walk back or walk to remain at a plaza, a park, a trail, a shore, or an outside… I think of just an hour and I’m a bit overwhelmed. Can I do it? Do I have the time? Do I even want to? Isn’t this a ridiculous thing to aim for? But isn’t it good for me to be outside? An hour outside, an on purpose hour, feels like an unsurmountable committment. Ridiculous! Am I not an animal? A part of nature? And a Monday through Friday hour outside sounds so hard?
Oh summer, where are you?

One week’s time

In one week

  • I (happily) didn’t make myself write here.
  • I got a generous compliment (from somebody who matters) for a really difficult project I recently finished.
  • I found in a box something I made 15 years ago and was pleasantly surprised to realize I am still hugely proud of it.
  • I started to rekindle a friendship that had been distanced for some time.
  • I got really sick with a fever that got me dreaming that children were tiny butterflies and could stamp their existence in kisses of color on a piece of paper wich was a clue to help me find where they were (down the vertical silver tunnel, behind the fuzzy purple drape).
  • I got another strong confirmation that getting my mother to acknowledge that there are others in the world other than herself is, as of yet, impossible.

What happens in a week is so easily forgotten if I don’t think back on it.
I don’t wanna forget.

Thank You

Thank You

I said I’d do it and I (blush, sniff) did it.  I wrote every day for a month.  I know it’s probably a small feat for some of you out there but it was totally a new thing for me.  Had never done it before and now: I did it.  Now I know what it’s like for me to do something like that.  And I can’t help but wanna say Thank You.

If you read me, Thank You, you helped me understand what it’s like to be read. Seeing numbers go up bit by bit was motivating and suprising.

If you didn’t read me, Thank You as well. You helped me understand what it’s like to not be read. It was important and sobering.

If you “liked” a post, Thank You, I was proud and flattered every time. I looked at the “likes” over and over again. It was exciting to have touched somebody even if I didn’t know exactly how.

If you have a blog and you liked a post, Thank You for keeping your blog up so that I could take in a bit of your perspective and learn a bit about you and where you are coming from.

If you didn’t have a blog and you liked a post, Thank You for even looking. I had no idea anybody without one would even be able to see something I wrote.

If you commented, Thank You, you made it tangible that there were humans on the other side. You were kind and generous with your comments and for that I also Thank You (it was intimidating to think it could be otherwise!)

If you supported me to stick with it and not give up, Thank You, my doubts and hesitations were real and you helped me push on.

I was even Liebstered and it was so totally flattering! Thank you! I will post my proper Liebster post very soon (I just wanna do it right… an exasperating lack of time in the last few weeks has prevented this from happening but my big project is done so I’ll be able to do right by it now).

If you followed me for any amount of time, Thank You, wow. Wow. Me? I am so honored. And excited I will now have more time and be able to dedicate a bit more thought to my posts in order to deliver more at my best and less at my hurried-est.

Thank You also to Zerotohero, you helped me understand a lot of the possibilities I had with my blog and with more time I will go back to your prompts so that I can try them all out.

And Thank You to WordPress. For this awesome soapbox. Hats off to you folks!

It feels really great to have had this experience. I did like it and will now tailor it to something a bit less pushy for myself: Instead of posting every day I will aim to post once a week (though I’ve yet to figure out what deadline day of the week I will give myself… I think that will be necessary in order to actually keep this up).

Anyway, Thank You for being there and all that. You’ve made me a better person, you’ve given me something incredible. I feel so lucky!

to following through,
to new experiences,
to writing,
to posting,
to reading,
to connecting,
to appreciating,
to you,
to me,
to this.


try something new

kind of terrifying… a swing class…

me?  with all these people? swing? yikes!

but just try.


oh look, you actually had fun.


if you dance on a regular basis, you are a genius in my book in more ways than one. for example, you know to invest time on invaluable things.

if you don’t dance… well maybe try a dance class.  or just dance.  but do it for real.


NOT a weekend

When you have a full time job Monday through Friday, a weekend doesn’t feel like a weekend when you have to work 26+ hours of it.

It’s laptop computer work.  No, I’m not built to sit still.  I did 14 hours part sitting and part laying down the first day, trying to find the most comfortable positions that wouldn’t stress my neck and then 12 hours standing up the second day (I used a dresser as the “desk” so the computer would be at eye level and my neck would remain straight).  As odd as it was to stand up to do this work my body feels much better after the standing up work, even though it was day two. Time for a regular stand up desk set-up…  Have you tried it?  I’d say try it.

Will I ever finish?  It all just reminds me, be careful what you volunteer for…  


Don’t give up on them, those pomegranates

So if you get a pomegranate and you’ve never had one before you might be lucky or you might be not. When it’s good, you cut it and tear it apart and the garnet colored seeds are plump and taut and full of juice. When you eat those juicy seeds, they burst when you chew them, the center is only a tiny bit and it sort of disappears and you can just eat it all. They are a sweet and tart wonderfulness. When the pomegranate is not so good several things might happen. Maybe some if it is brownish rather than red. And then it’s a bit overly sweet, like past what it could be, maybe a smidge turned, somewhat flat. Maybe you get it and it’s been out for too long, off the tree, and it’s dry so that when you chew on the seeds there’s a lot of a hard, pulpy, almost woody center and only just a quick burst of juice and it might not seem so right to eat that woody part. You can make the best of it and chew all the yumminess out of it and then spit out the center mush.  If this happens and you haven’t had a good one before you might not be able to say, “Oh, too bad, this was just not such a good one yet I’ll make the best of it, better luck next time”. You might say instead, “What’s the big deal anyway with this stupid, ridiculous, expensive fruit, I don’t even know what all the hoopla is about, it’s just more trouble than it’s worth!”  And you might stop searching for it, that good one, and then you’ll really miss out.

So if you don’t quite get it or don’t quite like it… don’t give up on them, those pomegranates. There is a perfect one out there for you. There is a perfect one for everyone.

Party like you’re FIVE

Played this for the first time for a bunch of 5 year olds:

and the response was outrageous.  They looked at each other and immediately hopped and spun out of their seats, screaming and oogachakaing and laughing.  Within seconds there were bodies on the floor, there was snaking and MichaelJacksoning of all types, there was hugging and squeezing and moshing and hands-like-guns-shooting and chasing and head gyrating and ring-around-the-rosie and booty-bumping and macarena and hip-slapping and cheerleading and choo-choo train and ballet spins and dance dips and fake fainting.  And, “Again!  Again!  Again!” when it was over.

Party like you’re FIVE.  That’s the new black.