MORNING GLORY

This morning's soundtrack really should be:

"Oh, what a beautfiul mornin'....oh, what a beautiful day............."   

We had a cloudburst last night which left the air cool and fresh and sweet.  I am getting occasional whiffs of my Arabian Jasmine growing in the front yard. 

Hummingbirds, mockingbirds, doves, gold finches, house finches, woodpeckers and a multitude of sparrows are paying visits to the fountain and singing the sun up!

The passing clouds are making pretty pictures in the sky.

The fountain is splashing a melody.

It's Saturday.  The only traffic noise I can hear is the faint whistle of a distant train.

My coffee tastes especially good, this morning.

Daisy Cat is keeping me company.

I didn't sleep the night through.  In fact,  I was wide awake again, in the middle of the night.  I didn't pay close enough attention to the music video I chose before I went to bed.  It only lasted 4 hours....so, when it stopped, I woke up.

I got into a cooking frenzy, yesterday afternoon, and made myself so tired that I left a horrible mess in the kitchen.  So, once again, in the middle of the night, I was up doing dishes.  It was good to wake up to a clean kitchen.

I got a surprisingly good sounding little speaker for my tablet and I think, last night, I got the 'right' volume level figured out...not too loud....not too soft...but juuuuuust right.  So, if I use a 24/7 video tonight instead of that 4 hour one, I might be more successful sleeping through the night.

The smoking thing:  I am very aware, especially after yesterday, that allowing myself to get too tired is a sure fire way to set off a chain-smoking episode!  Also, frustration and excitement are strong triggers.  I am feeling less and less triggers as I work on these blog entries and  I am still making new connections to healthier responses to my triggers.  There are so many!

Today is September...a new month....a new season.....a time when, if I make myself healthy enough, I can spend many pleasant hours nurturing my poor, neglected yard without the possibility of heat stroke!  And while doing that, I will be nurturing my own neglected soul.

So....the song continues............

"I've got a wonderful feelin'....everything's goin' my way!"

And I AM GRATEFUL!

BALLAD POUR ADELINE

Many years ago, my brother who loved music as much as I do, brought me a CD of the most beautiful piano music I'd ever heard in my life!  The artist was Richard Clayderman.

It's a wonder I didn't wear that cd out listening to it over and over for these many years.

One time, I was going to go with my husband on one of his truck trips. He'd be going through the home of my heart....Colorado Springs, Colorado...and I was so excited to see that beautiful place again where my brother and I were lucky enough to spend a lot of our childhood years.  We had the truck all packed...including some cd's I wanted to listen to as we traveled.  One of them, of course, was Clayderman.

Just before we were about to hit the road, I got a call from the hospital.  My brother was in the ER, in very, very bad shape.  My brother was a brittle diabetic from the age of 10.  And this time, he'd gone into coma and hadn't been found for way too long and things were looking pretty scary!

So....off we went, in the big semi-to the hospital.  By the time we got there, he was coming around and things were looking up.  We...he and our family had been through such scares, too many times to count.  But this time, it really got to me and I was just certain I should not go on the planned trip with hubby.  I fussed and fumed.  My brother fussed and fumed back.  Finally, the doctor turned to my husband and said , 'Take her away!  He's gonna be fine if she doesn't drive him nuts!'  Seriously, I don't remember exactlly what she said, but that sounded pretty good, didn't it?  Anyway....whatever was said, it worked and we left.

I don't have any recollection of anything on that trip until we got to the beautiful part of Colorado which was getting us closer and closer to 'home.'
I remember stealing a branch of lilacs from a roadside bush.  They don't grow in this part of Arizona and I miss them, terribly.  I know I was feeling very emotional and I was also feeling relieved because I'd checked on my brother and knew he was going to be ok.

Looking around at all the beauty of those Rocky Mountains...and feeling that Rocky Mountain High....I put that CD in the player and turned it on.  When that first crescendo happened...you'll know when you hear it....I burst into uncontrollable tears!

listen to it here



I will never forget ALL the FEELS I was FEELING in that moment! It's a beautiful memory.

I have always loved  piano music.

Today,  it occurred to me that I might, at times, want to listen to some relaxing music, but not necessarily something to put me into some kind of deep sleep or altered state or zen zone....or whatever......

So....I went to my stash of cds which was in a bag in my closet ready to be taken to a charity shop.    There's a reason for that...but it's dull and boring and in no way pertinent to this here story....and besides, I'm keepin' 'em!...so I will leave you to either ignore this...or make up some kind of story of your own.  ;)

The bag was lying on the closet floor.....and half-way out of it was...........................

My brother died many years ago. Not long after he died, I wrote this poem for him  But, he visits me often.  He did today.

A POEM FOR MY BROTHER

High up in Cochise’s mountains
he leans against a fallen tree
long legs outstretched toward the fire
he lights a cigarette and sips
his vodka and Mountain Dew.
Pine-perfumed smoke
floats softly upward
through pine-perfumed branches
into the star-studded sky.
He inhales.

Occasional sparks
fly onto his boots
a cougar snarls too close by
a blur of tawny fur
a glimpse of agate eyes and then
it’s gone
into the night.
He exhales.

He smokes his smoke
and drinks his drink
knowing
that nothing here will harm him
not the cougar
not the fire
not the cigarettes or the booze
not the dark of the night
and certainly not the mountain
He dreams on.

THAT CHILD

This is me, at age 2...painted from one of those old-fashioned, hand-tinted photos.

If that child was hungry......I would give her nourishment.

If that child was thirsty.......I would give her a drink of water.

If that child was tired.........I would stop her activity.

If that child was sleepy.....I would put her to bed.

If that child was bored......I would entertain her.

If that child was anxious...I would soothe her.

If that child was afraid.......I would reassure her.

If that child was angry.......I would find out why.

If that child had physical pain.......I would give her the appropriate medicine at the appropriate time.

If that child had aching feet, from spending all day in worn out lip-flops, with no support.......I would put some good shoes on her feet.

If that child needed some time out in nature.......I would take her outdoors....to see beautiful things.

If that child needed to dance.......I would play her some music.

If that child was discouraged......I would encourage her.

If that child was feeling uncared for.......I would show her how much she is loved.

If that child was struggling to do something difficult......I would look for ways to help her suceed.

If that child did well........I would reward her.

That child is still me.

Why won't I do those things for myself?

The child that was you is still you.

Why won't you do those things for that child?

LET'S PARTY!!!!!!

Something wonderful happened to me and all because my husband had to undergo treatment for cancer!

I'm sure that sounds really weird, but let me 'splain.

First, he's doing very well.  In fact, he's finished his radiation treatments and only has a few immuno-therapy infusions left to do.  And, slowly, he is beginning to regain his strength and is feeling better.

We spent a great deal of time, of course, in medical facilities. I noticed lots of really cool art hanging on the walls and decided to donate some of my paintings.

I'm not sure exactly how it came to be that I thought to make some special donations to the kids' hospital but somehow, I got connected with a woman who has become a wonderful, new friend.

She told me there were few pictures, posters or paintings in the kids' hospital and I determined to change that!!!!

I've lost count of how many paintings I've donated but it's a lot and I hope there will be lots and lots more.  That is my intent!  After all, I have had a storage shed full of paintings, for  years, serving no good purpose to anyone!

OH!  I JUST REMEMBERED!!!!

I was going through some old paintings and found this one.

THE HAPPY TREE

When I first painted it, years ago, I had no clue where it had come from!  It is so unlike anything I usually do.  I liked it but I just didn't know what to do with it!  As soon as I saw it, I thought, 'Kids would like that, I think.'  And that's when I asked Rashida , who is my husbands appointed Social Worker (and an absolute doll who is also a wonderful, new friend!) if she could help me.  She put me in touch with B.J.  And, as the saying goes, the rest  is history!

Something has changed, drastically, in my way of approaching a painting...especially a new one.  I am not very concerned with what other artists might think.  I am not very concerned with how 'good' or 'bad' the  painting might be.  I am not much concerned with whether my friends will like it, or not.  My only concern is, 'Will it make the kids smile?'  If the answer is 'Yes', I am happy.

LET'S PARTY!!!

MAKE A WISH

SWING

VICTORIOUS!

THE THREE AMIGOS

I have a new love for painting and a  new reason to get up in the morning and I am so very, very, VERY grateful!!!!!!

PERFECT STRANGERS

If things hadn't happened to put us in that exact place at that exact time, there would be no story. 
But, we were.  And there is.  And it is a wondrous story.

My husband and I were walking toward the hospital entrance for his radiation therapy and doctor's appointment, which had been moved up by about 15 minutes in an earlier phone call.  Even then, we might not have been there at just that time, except that we were also called, this morning, and asked to come in for a blood draw at another location, entirely, which also shifted our expected schedule.

Because we were all where we were at that precise moment, we found ourselves walking, almost abreast, with a woman who caught my attention because she was wearing a top in my most favorite color.  Thirty seconds difference would have made a difference in what happened next.

I said to her, "I love your top!  It's my favorite color"

She gave me a little smile and said, "Thanks."

Then, I noticed her big, beautiful eyes....her big, beautiful, sad,eyes, welling up with tears.

Now, in that setting, you can see lots of people with tear-filled, sad eyes.  Sometimes, you share understanding smiles...or a little hug.  Sometimes, the kindest thing is to just avoid eye contact so that person can maintain whatever self control they need, in the moment.

In less time than it takes to write these words, I ran all those thoughts through my mind, wondering how I should respond to her.  A force, more powerful than me, moved me into action.  I asked, "Are you OK?"

She did what we often do at such times.  She lied.  She  said, "Yes.  I'm ok."  But the tears,  now  falling down her cheeks exposed the truth.

I said, "No. I don't think you are OK, at all."

I took one step toward her and she all but collapsed into my hug and began crying on my shoulder,  in earnest.  She told me, haltingly, that two years ago, today, her 26 year old son had unexpectedly died of a brain aneurysm.

She told me she thought coming to work, as usual, might make the day easier but that  now, she wasn't sure.

I invited her to sit down with me on a nearby bench and just talk about it...and about him, her son, Nico, and anything else she wanted to talk about.  Or, we could just sit there while she cried.

My smart husband, seeing what was going on, had already continued on toward his appointment so Annette...that's her name, Annette....and I sat down and shared a most incredible and  powerful and blessed experience.

It probably lasted no more than 10-15 minutes but....the memory of those moments will stay with me for the rest of my life and I would bet my last dime Annette would say the same thing.

Annette chose to trust a Perfect Stranger with her bleeding heart and soul, hurting over her beloved son, Nico.

I chose to walk with a Perfect Stranger, for a few steps, on her painful journey, doing what I could to share her awful burden.

And if she'd been even two steps ahead of or behind us, on that sidewalk, none of this would have happened!

As is often said, 'Timing is everything!'

It's been a long, long time!

I haven't written a blog post in??????????????

Why?  Because I, more or less blog on Facebook.  I might change that.  Some new  people have entered my life who are not on Facebook 'cause they actually have other things to do.  Like save folks' lives.  So, I might occasionally post a new blog in order to share it with them.

Today, I was at the hospital where my husband is getting radiation treatments.  This time, I thought to take my camera so I could have some fun while waiting for him.  There are areas of the grounds which are breathtakingly beautiful!  And since he has only 4 more days of treatment left, I wanted to take advantage of my time there and try to capture some of that beauty.



I'll try to make some more posts about some other things about this experience when I find one of those round tuits.  ;  But, this post is all about the photos....so...here we go!

This is a trunk of a Crepe Myrtle.  Or is it an ostrich?

All the purple you see is Crepe Myrtle.  All the orange is Mexican Bird of Paradise.  

Wouldn't you just love to roll around in all that purple????

The yellow is Golden Lantana.

 There are many huge, old, Mesquite trees providing shade from that scorching sun.

Tell me this isn't a cowboy on a buckin' bronc.

This is a male Vermillion Flycatcher.

And this is the hospital where miracles happen!

 For which we are most grateful!!!

Aisle 7

It’s the first Wednesday of the month, which means it is old folk’s discount day at my grocery store.  I always, simultaneously dread-and look forward to-this monthly ‘outing.’  Some time back, I made the decision to try to make grocery shopping an adventure instead of an aggravation.  I go there, expecting to have something really fun and/or interesting to happen and I’m seldom disappointed.

Today was no different.

First, I saw an elderly woman (about my age) doing that hard job of corralling shopping carts in the parking lot and returning them to the store’s entrance area.  My immediate reaction was to feel abject sympathy for her and a huge swelling of gratitude that I am not forced into such labor in order to survive.

And then, it occurred to me that perhaps she thinks it is great training for the marathon she is going to run or the mountain she intends to climb.  We never really know what the true story might be so it’s probably better not to jump to uninformed conclusions!

The next fun thing that happened-and this is a common occurrence-is that I saw a girl child who is so doggone cute it is probably illegal!  Sharing that opinion with her mom and dad, in the girl child’s hearing, was a joyful thing!

And then……………….

I carefully park my buggy to the side of aisle 7 while I search the shelves for the pickles I want.  Across the aisle, a lady stands, with her back to me searching for something on her own shopping list.  She has left her cart smack-dab in the middle of the aisle….as I usually do.  Someone comes along and asks, politely, to be allowed to move her cart.  She immediately begins the same apologies we all offer at such times….to the person asking and also to me.  I tell her not to worry that I do it all the time.  “We all do.”, I say.  “We’re all alike….sisters from the same Mother.” 

Now, I know what we usually say is ‘sisters from different mothers.’  But, I was prompted, I’m sure of it, by ‘Mother”, to say exactly those words.

The moment I said it, I knew, beyond any doubt, that my new-found café-au-lait skinned sister ‘got’ it.  Totally and completely.

We both turned into nothing more than two huge grins….and hugged.  It just seemed like the thing to do.

And we talked.  And we talked.  And we talked some more.  We talked about things deep and things frivolous as only two newly discovered sister/friends can do!

Eventually, I stuck out my hand and said, “Hi!  My name is Sharon.”

She said, “Git outta here!!!!!!!”

Yes, her name is Sharon.  There’s not a whole huge lot of us with that name.  

I know that we have to stay in touch, so I give her my SKayArt business card.  She gasps.  “You are an artist?  So am I!!!”

She paints with watercolors, is afraid of oils and wants to learn to paint with acrylics.  I paint with acrylics.  I'm terrified of watercolors and not too friendly with oils.

She’s 70.  I will be in December.

I am thinking there’s a lot of synchronicity going on here.  I’m wondering if I’ve maybe found the painting buddy I’ve been longing for.  But, there’s one final issue that I wonder about.

I am a smoker.  Yes, I know.  People who smoke are the scum of the earth and responsible for a plethora of things which ail the entire Universe.  Nevertheless, I smoke and don’t plan on giving it up anytime soon.

I gather my courage.

“I have one last question for you. And this one is big. Do you smoke?”

Guess what she said…..just guess!

I can’t wait to get together with her to paint.  And if it never happens, those MANY minutes we spent together, connecting in LOVE, sometimes jumping up and down, laughing and hugging like long lost friends….well….now that is a memory worth having!

Our shenanigans, in aisle 7 touched more than a few of our fellow shoppers.  I would like to think we were pretty much sprinkling happily-ever-after fairy dust on them all.

Again, I say............