Category: Uncategorized

We all make mistakes – errors in judgement.

We all can be negligent of our responsibilities – following selfish pursuits.

Humans are thinking machines packaged inside beasts.

Some revel in our bestial roots. Others try to forget that part, striving to become more machine-like.

I, for one, try to walk a tight-rope between the two. If I were to fall, I’m not sure what side I’d prefer.

Understanding that we are all fallible, helps me to forgive those that I feel have done me wrong.

My memories fade, and my priorities shift, but I don’t want to forget all the experiences that have shaped me, painful or not.

Seeing and feeling other’s mistakes has helped to guide me in the direction I want to go.

Looking back on my own mistakes has enabled me to learn to make better choices.

Forgiving myself and others is absolutely necessary to move forward unhindered, and with a clear mind focused on improvement for all.

I’m very proud of my flower pond.

My husband and I put in hard labor to make it happen.

There used to be a silver maple in the spot where it now sits.

I wanted more sun in my garden, so the silver maple was sacrificed.

It was standing on prime real estate – the middle of our backyard.

Digging a pond where a tree once stood is a fool’s idea.

Worth it in the end, after the memory of the pain and sweat fades.

My husband dug the hole with the help of heavy equipment.

Everything else was done by me.

I personally placed every single pink granite block. The pink is only pink when compared with other granite. A very slight cast only evident when wet.

Our yard isn’t level. It slopes here and there. From some vantage points the pond looks slightly tilted.From other points it looks level. From overhead it probably makes no difference. We did use a level and strings when putting it in.

It fits in with everything else, and I’m the only one it needs to please. My husband doesn’t care. His contributions were to make me happy.

Many things have thrived within the pond, from water lilies to dragonflies.

Even with the years of neglect these things thrived. The only thing that suffered was the overall aesthetics. Algae was the problem.

Today the algae is all gone and the water is clear, even with many repotted plants.

Yesterday I had five stunning water lilies blooming: four pink and one small yellow.

Sometimes I feel a sadness that the lifespan of these blooms is so short. They open in the mid-morning sun, and close in late afternoon to early evening, as the sun starts to descend.

One bloom lives for about two days, sometimes three.

Still the mother plant keeps sending up her children to live a short life in the sun.

They are all connected in a way, so I guess they all live through one another, and life goes on.

 

 

 

Immersing myself in the ordinary tasks of living,

I can’t escape this nagging feeling of loss.

My need for peace has cut me off from the maddening

Think tank that used to spiral around me.

The constant presence of an invisible force holding me

And guiding me is now much more subliminal.

The ghost has gone away. I’m on my own. I know this is for the best.

An independent struggle is the road I’m destined to take, at least for now.

Calling it a struggle might be an exaggeration, especially

Considering the burdens others must carry.

With proper perspective, I can see that the road I’m on

Is relatively smooth, and my faith is still with me.

The waxing crescent moon and several stars could be seen on a crisp clear night.

I sat quietly on the stone bench in front of my pond.

A blue ring of light could be seen emanating from the submersible equipment.

The sound of the water flowing softly from its spout was in my foreground,

While a mellow Latin beat could be heard coming from a few yards down.

A few yards in the other direction muffled voices could be heard.

It sounded like a small party or family gathering.

I was alone. My husband and daughter prefer to be inside

Surrounded by electronic light and noise.

That is okay. I’m used to conversing with myself.

I put all my thoughts on pause so I could focus on all the fireflies

Dancing through the air. The temperature and humidity were ideal.

In my hand I held a chilled bottle of Corona with an added slice of lemon.

This aided me in my  relaxation. I felt glad to be back home

Wrapped up in the vastness of the night sky.

My mind journeys over the past few years have given me a new found

Appreciation of the simple art of living in each moment.

 

 

 

Stretching and reclining as far out as my limbs will take me.

Head back, looking up, pondering the clouds, letting the gentle

Breeze caress my skin until the goose bumps rise.

Soaking up the warmth from the sun like a sponge.

Abandoning as much abstract thinking as I can.

Totally immersing myself in the earth, and letting

Only her pull my biological strings of arousal.

A brief respite before the garden restoration resumes.

Today as I was fumbling through a dresser drawer where

I keep odd pieces of jewelry and little tokens given to me

by various people, I found a cheap round metal pin,

similar to a campaign pin one might wear.

On the front was a heart outlined by a dotted line,

like you would see on a highway where you could

legally pass the car in front of you. Written in script

across the heart were the letters: xoxo.

They crossed over the line on both sides ever so slightly.

Growing up I used to end my letters, cards, and notes with

the word love, my name, and several xoxo.

These symbolized hugs and kisses. I guess they still do.

Of course, now I think about the numbers: 24,15,24,15.

In my weird code 24 can be a 6 or an 8 or a 10. A 15 can be

a 4 or a 6 depending on whether you are moving from the left or right

(adding or subtracting a 1 from a 5.)

I’m no good at explaining why I perceive numbers this way.

I’m sure you won’t be taught this in math class.

In my mind, these rules are only good for when you are looking

at numbers moving through a complex system.

I do not have an educational background in college math,

so don’t take my thoughts too seriously.

This madness had hold of me for a long time.

It is love that has saved me.

Love given and love received.

I am eternally grateful.

 

 

 

 

Can you run out of information or does information create more information?

As I was thinking about this, the image of a tessellating flower came into my mind.

A mosaic. To the ant it can be rough terrain. To a giant it can be a smooth line circling round and round.

Particles or waves or all the same? From space it might be indistinguishable from everything else… until you zoom in.

Part to whole. Repetitive division. Fractional …izing  without end.

Each point in space is a different picture.

Changing velocity gives way to new inflorescence and varied forms of beauty.

Mistakes along the way give us our humanity, and saves us from mindless repetition.

Mother Nature knows what she is doing. She continues to dance to her own music.

Mankind needs to yield when necessary, and learn to listen more carefully to her cues.

 

 

 

 

Out at kiss and ride today I found a RaceTrac lighter.

It fell out of a car.

A little thing I do these days is add up all the letters.

There are 26 letters in our alphabet, and each letter has a number.

When I added up the letters in RaceTrac I arrived at 69.

All sorts of images came into my mind.

When I push a six (6) and nine (9) together, they sort of

Look like a figure 8. This reminds me of a race track.

Then I visualized a figure eight in 3-D space,

And I was reminded of a Mobius strip.

The lighter has a bar code on its back. Its numbers are:

9158500700. If you add up all these numbers, not counting zeros,

You arrive at thirty-five. (28 (00) + 7 (00) = 35; and 3 + 5 = 8).

I can assure you I never used to be like this.

This eternal race track can be a blessing or a curse.

With no finish line, the winners and losers are all the same.

I have learned to put the race aside, and focus on

The people in my life. They are my reward.

The other day in class two students simultaneously announced it’s 11:11.

A few others repeated the number 11:11. They all smiled and laughed.

“What’s the significance?” I asked.

“Make a wish” one explained. “Wishes are granted at 11:11” he added in jest.

Their tone and mood was playful.

I did start thinking about what my wish would be.

Ideas of fame and fortune did cross my mind.

When my heart and mind came together, I thought about my daughter.

I realized my wish would be for her.

I am smart enough to get by. I’ve been toughened up with age.

My deepest and darkest fears and worries lie with her.

I fear my death not for me, but for her.

What will happen to her when I die?

I knew my wish needed to be tangible and attainable.

I made a wish that I could work with her daily to reach a goal.

This goal will improve all our lives, but mostly hers.

There is no pie in the sky for us. I just need to take a leap of faith.

By working with her steadily to make improvements,

Her future will look brighter.

In the end, my wish was for us to be successful

In reaching this goal for her.

 

 

A couple of weeks ago when the weather was nice, I finally got out into my garden to do some work. My garden is in serious need of restoration. I started last summer and made some progress. However, I started too late, and the weather got too hot, and my mind wasn’t 100 percent into the project yet.

Now, my mind is about 99.5 % committed. My first goal is my pond and the area directly surrounding it. This area is center stage from the viewpoint of my kitchen window. When I started weeding the area of dirt around the pond about 2 weeks ago, I found a ladybug nestled down in the dirt around some rocks. I took off my garden gloves and gently picked her up and brushed some flecks of dirt off of her. I was delighted to see her move and respond by lifting her wings and attempting to fly. She didn’t get far, so I lifted her again and brushed a little more dirt off of her. This time her wings were able to fully expand and she took flight. She was the only bug I saw that day.

Today, finally my life and the weather allowed me to get outside again. I found my thigh-high fishing boots and put them on. I reached down into the pond to retrieve the two pumps and the submersible ultra-violet clarifier/sterilizer. I didn’t even get these running last summer.

I had to step into the pond to try and readjust the round granite bowl that had slipped down off the granite blocks it rested on. I also found the bubbler that brings water up into the bowl. The garden birds love this bowl and bubbler.

It suddenly occurred to me that I might not be able to lift the bowl. It is extremely heavy for me, especially with the water in it. We’ve had so much rain the pond is at full capacity. In the past, my husband has been able to help me. Now, he can’t, at least not yet.

I was determined to try. I turned the bowl onto its side so it wouldn’t hold the water when lifted. With all my strength, and the help of angels, I was able to get the bowl up onto one of the columns  of blocks. It needs two columns to rest securely. So much shifting has taken place I determined that I’d need to drain the pond to get everything realigned properly. The water lilies have taken over.

I needed to get the bowl out of the pond. Using my arms and back and thighs, I was able to do a squat walk of sorts with the bowl in tow. Miraculously, I was able to get it to one side and tip it over the edge onto the pebbled ground. Then, as I stood in the pond with the raindrops beginning to fall on me, I saw a lone ladybug floating on top. I lifted her out and held her in my palm. She didn’t move. The raindrops began to fall harder and the wind began to blow. I stepped out of the pond carrying the ladybug and moved quickly to my covered deck. I set her down on the round wooden table so I could pull off my boots.

The feral cats my husband had adopted were looking at me with their begging eyes. I picked the ladybug up and moved her inside to my stainless breakfast bar. I quickly went back to feed the cats. My husband would like me to do this for him.

I came back inside and the ladybug was still there where I ‘d laid her. It was apparent that life had left her shell behind.

I sure hope there is a ladybug heaven. I don’t care what anyone thinks about me for wanting this or even thinking that it is possible.

The rain passed quickly and the sun is out again, though now, I need to work on dinner.

I couldn’t get the ladybugs out of my mind. It seemed so odd for me to find only one each day. There must be a lesson for me here.  The ladybug that got away was in the dirt and not the water. I decided that I’d better keep my hands and mind on my garden. The ladybug’s spirit is pushing me to 100 percent.