Thursday, December 31, 2009

Getting Ready for 2010

I'm using the big laptop to blog this tonight, and I've forgotten what it's like to do stuff on a screen other than my little netbook.  It's sort of odd to be able to see everything so large...

Anyway, I'm trying to finish up the cleaning and preparations for the new year.  I got the tree down and out, packed away my Santas and nativities, and the only things that are left are to vacuum (that most hated of chores) and to run a couple of loads of laundry.  I want to meet the new year with everything tidy. 

It's hard to believe that this will be 2010.  It seems only yesterday that everyone was freaking out over Y2K and the potential end of everything.  It is, indeed, unreal that ten years could possibly have passed this fast.  What have I been doing?  Is it a good sign that it has gone in such a rush or not?

In this past ten years, I have been in Bloomington and Toyohashi, I've been abroad and home. I've been in Japan, Ireland, England, Wales, and Thailand.  I've been through some very frightening medical situations and two major surgeries.  I've taught at three different schools.  I've bought a car, acquired a mortgage, and started retirement savings and life insurance accruing.  It's been a busy ten years.

I can't imagine what the next ten years will bring.  I could never have dreamed all the things, good and bad, that were the fruit of the last ten. 

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Words vs. Deeds

"What you do speaks so loud that I cannot hear what you say." ~ Emerson

Monday, December 28, 2009

The Sound of Madness

This song has been stuck in my head for three days now.  It is just on the verge of literally becoming the sound of madness for me.  The very first time I heard the lyrics on the rock station I tune in early in the morning from a far-away college town with a real rock radio, I liked it.  The reminder that the "darkest hour doesn't come in the night" and "when are you gonna wake up and fight...for yourself" are powerful indictments of self-pity.  Since I frequently sympathize with the guy wailing, "I created the sound of madness, wrote the book on pain," and get tired of people using their individual crap-situations as a reason not to do things, not to push forward, not to try, I guess that might be part of the draw of this song for me.

Girls' Day Out

I got to go out to lunch with one of my oldest and best friends.  Our mutual lives and schedules keep up from seeing each other except in passing, so it was wonderful to have a day to go and do.  We went to a Japanese restaurant in town I hadn't been to before, and the food was wonderful.  They actually have some of my favorites on their menu, and I got to have tonkatsu and green tea ice cream today.  I didn't do the whole sushi thing today, but their sushi looked good, too.  I have a feeling I'll be spending more time there in the future, for the green tea ice cream, if nothing else.  I could have made a meal of it.  I get absolute cravings for it....

My friend and I wandered around T.J. Maxx (one of the world's most dangerous stores) and then came on home.  More than anything, we caught up and talked.  I have missed so much just being able to spend time with her, hear her point of view on things, hear what's going on in her world.  It's not that we live that far away from each other, even; it's just that things have gotten so incredibly complex that finding the time to get away and do something has gotten almost impossible.

I hope she and I will have time to do this more often.  Even if we don't go have a fancy girls' day out, we need to see each other more than we do.  I hope I can find a way to make it happen.

Sunday, December 27, 2009

The Ghost of Christmas Past

When my parents came for Christmas brunch, I wasn't really in the mood.  The house wasn't clean like I wanted it to be.  I've been so dizzy over the past week that getting up and getting things cleaned hasn't been easy or felt very good.  I'd slept late, so I was late getting the food prepared, and I hadn't gotten my tablecloths laid or any of my decorative stuff on the table, either. 

I got everything together, though, and it was okay.  We had a good meal, and it came time for presents to be given and opened.  When I picked up the first little gift bag and reached down inside, I pulled out an object that was immediately familiar but that I had never expected to see again:  Penguey. 

As a very small child, I had a whole set of floating toys, a penguin, a whale, and a seal, that I played with during the summers in those brightly-colored plastic pools they still sell at Wal-Mart, and in the bathtub during the rest of the year.  I haven't thought about them in years.  I guess I had just assumed they had been long-lost along with all the other things of childhood.  Imagine my surprise to look down as see Penguey smiling blithely up at me from the red and green Christmas tissue paper! 

Mom had found him when she'd been out in the yard working recently.  He'd popped up from under some leaves, explaining his rather dark and tatty condition. He's been scrubbed with everything we can find, but the white of his belly will probably never be white again.  He is still soft, though, and his blue color and yellow beak are still visible, incredibly.  Not bad for something very nearly as old as I am that's spent almost all its life in Mississippi's harsh climate.

I got several wonderful things this Christmas that I really love.  I was blessed with presents that I asked for and things that were useful, beautiful, and adult-oriented.  However, probably the thing I will remember the most about this Christmas is actually the unexpected return of this tiny visitor from my past.  I smile every time I look at him.

Thursday, December 24, 2009

Push


I just finished reading Push by Sapphire.  I had seen the previews for the film Precious, and I was curious, so yesterday when I was at our local bookstore, I grabbed a copy when it caught my eye.  Last night about 11:30, I opened the front cover after I got through doing something else, intending only to glance at the first page and put it down.  By 2:00, I was about 2/3 of the way through it.  I only stopped then because I needed sleep.

It's not an easy read in the sense that it's light-hearted and fluffy.  The subject matter is, quite frankly, heartbreaking.  However, I am going to put this on my list of books people should read because of how that harsh reality and brutal content is dealt with.  The main character, Precious, comes from a background that makes most people's ideas of hell look like pastel paintings edged with tatted lace.  And Sapphire does not let you forget for a moment that her character is immersed in a reality that is horrifying on a daily basis.  

The beautiful part of the book, though, is that the brutality of that reality does not crush Precious.  There are times when it very nearly does, and I think that was nicely done, too, very realistic.  God knows there are situations that nobody is strong enough to endure alone, pressure points too great for even the strongest of souls to stand up under, and this character experiences some of those.  Ultimately, though, she transcends in spite of it all.  That is why I like this book.

I know it has been compared to The Color Purple.  If it hasn't, it will be.  It does, in fact, compare itself to that work.  In Precious, I see literary echoes of Celie, of the abused survivor who finds her own voice and her own life.  I think maybe she might be a Celie in the present, despite the novel being set some twenty-five years ago.  Her environment and her conflicts, some of them, anyway, are things Celie in her time and place did not have to face.

This is a novel that will stick with me.  I can't say that it is going to be entirely a pleasant companion, but I think it is important that I have read it.  I can also say that at the end of the work, I was proud and hopeful.  It's not often I can say all of that about something I've read, really, so I am rather glad I grabbed Push yesterday.  It was a whim that paid off.

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Kokeshi doll Vulcan inspired custom by temple7e on Etsy


Okay, so I'm still on my Spock kick. What can I say? He's tall, he's wicked smart, and he can both mind-meld with you and knock you out with those lovely hands. Sigh....

Um, anyway, here is another interesting interpretation of one of my favorite imaginary men. In fact, if you are a fan of kokeshi, this maker has several interesting variations. Kokeshi were one thing I never started collecting while I was in Japan, I guess because I'm not much on dolls to start with, but I do appreciate the variations and the history. Enjoy!

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Logic Quote

Logic merely enables one to be wrong with authority. ~ Doctor Who

New Look, Again

I get bored with the way backgrounds look pretty quickly.  I change out my computer wallpaper and screensavers at least seasonally, frequently more often than that.  I guess it's only natural, then, that I get tired of my blog's look, too, and redecorate here.  The dots got old fast.  Also, I wanted something fast-loading that won't (you should pardon the phrase) suck when I look at it on my iPod and BlackBerry.  Hence, this new, exceedingly minimalist edition of the blog.  I think it will make me happier, at least in the meantime.  If you personally don't care for it, remember that it is like the weather.  Wait, and sooner or later, it will change....

Vintage Holiday Imagery



I'm cruising around looking for vintage holiday imagery online since my head is too fuzzy to let me do what I need to do right now, which is get up and clean my house intensively.  I am searching for New Year stuff since I have plenty for Christmas.  I found this postcard, and it intrigued me.  Look at the symbolism. 

Its obvious appeal to me is the dancing fool bit, of course, but it also drew me in with the absolute menace of the Time figure.  He's much more like the angel of death than usual.  Notice the way he's leaning on Earth and encompassing it with his sickle. Yet, his face is gentle, almost compassionate, loving.  I would love to know what year this one came out. 

The message might still stick, though.  We might do well to remember that Time is still leaning over us maybe more than ever.  I say this not because we should "eat, drink, and be merry" but because we should be conscious every day that we need to rightly count them and appreciate them because we don't know how many of them we have.  To go back to my precious Transcendentalists, we need to be seizing whatever days are put in front of us.  Sooner or later, Time will have to stop leaning and raise that sickle, no matter how amused by our capering he may be. 

Saturday, December 19, 2009

New-to-Me Thoreau Quote

The price of anything is the amount of life you exchange for it. ~ H. D. Thoreau

This made me stop and think hard, as Thoreau always does.   Crap.  There are some things in my life that I am paying far too high a price for right now.....

Hello, Hello

Hello, hello (¡Hola!)
I'm at a place called Vertigo (¿Dónde está?)
It's everything I wish I didn't know
 ~ from "Vertigo" by U2

The world continues to spin at inopportune moments.  Yesterday was a good day, and I thought this was done.  I drove to school, I took my classes on tours of the new ninth-grade building, a trip that involved many trips up and down stairs, and I only felt dizzy a couple of times.  I even went to a holiday party last night, and I did okay there, too. I guess I'm making up for it today in abundance, though, because I can't seem even to look across the room without the room tilting and spinning. 

I'm trying to keep a sense of humor about it, though.  It's a little like being on a roller coaster, only I didn't have to go stand in a big stupid line.  There is always that. I have my own personal theme park with all the danger rides I could want in my head.  All I have to do to "take a ride" is sort of tilt my head or stand up....  Whoo-hoo!

Really.  This needs to quit.  I need it to stop.  I don't want to be a disabled person, and that's the way this is heading.  I need to be going to the grocery store right now, and I can't.  I don't want other people to have to cart me around or do for me.  Therefore, the amusement part needs to shut down for the season.  I have other things to attend to at this time. 

We'll see how far logic and firm determination get me with this....  I'm going to take an Anti-Vert.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

Worth Thinking About

The men who really believe in themselves are all in lunatic asylums.  ~ G. K. Chesterton

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

You Spin Me Right Round, Baby

The past two mornings I've awakened with horrible vertigo. In fact, in the shower this morning it was so bad I thought I was going to pass out.  Today it has gotten progressively worse throughout the day until finally, this afternoon, I wound up having to teach my last class from a chair. 

I had the last check on my knee today, and I decided that after it was done I would go across the street to see my GP about the dizziness.  I assumed it was attributable to an inner ear infection.  That would be simple to clear up, something requiring only a shot, maybe, a round of antibiotics.  I guess I should have thought about my medical history a little longer first.

They took my temperature, measured my blood pressure, and checked all the other usual vitals.  All fine.  They looked in my ears, my nose, my throat.  Nada.  They drew blood and ran a quick analysis.  Nothing.  There is no reason for the room to be doing this hellish square dance every so often. 

The possible causes are not fun.  Stress, a new form of migraine, Meniere's Disease, and simple repetitive baseless vertigo were all mentioned.  Well....YAY!  I mean sign me up for some and/or all of that right now, please.  'Cause I don't have enough specialty medicine issues in my life. 

I am to give it about two weeks, and if it's still going on, then I'm to go back so they can refer me to a specialist.  I am so hoping they don't have to do that.  I don't think I can stand another ride on this particular merry-go-round.  It would be so nice if this was something that just went away on its own and could be chalked up to weirdness.

I have some anti-vert here on the table, and in a few minutes, I'm going to take half of one and sleep.  I'm tired.  Really, really tired.  I wish I could just be normal.  It would be such a nice change.

Monday, December 14, 2009

A Very Satisfying Day

I'm listening to rain on the rooftop, and two of my three cats are edging ever closer to me, surreptitiously trying to get on the blanket or my legs without my noticing.  This is no mean feat for animals weighing 8 and 12 pounds, respectively.  However, Pearl, my largest and furriest cat, has powers of stealth that are inexplicable, so probably in a few minutes, there will be a giant pile of grey fur purring contentedly and weighing me down like a living boulder.  Let it be.  It's a good day for it.

Odd that today should be a day for any kind of contentment.  It's a Monday, and they are usually frightful with the ending of the leisure of a weekend and the return to activity in a regular week.  I think it was that it was such an unusual day, one that actually allowed me to get things done.

I stayed after school today until 6:45 and graded like a madwoman.  The papers have stacked up waist-high, and I needed to get some peace about that.  I graded something like twelve sets of papers today.  I still have several left to do, but this got it down to where one more afternoon of intensive work will get me caught up.  I want to leave for the break with everything graded and recorded.  I don't want anything hanging over me during the holiday, no guilt, no nagging worry about stuff in the workbag.

Another reason today was so nice, though, was because two of my wonderful former students dropped by.  I love it when the ones who are gone come back.  I didn't get to talk to either of them very much, which I regret.  I wanted to chat with them, but of course, it just wasn't possible.  Maybe another opportunity will arise.  One was on his way to a fabulous adventure and the other came by as my class was starting.  It was just so good to see them. 

I realized that I hadn't seen one of them for about five years.  He was in my very first AP class.  He's in graduate school now.  That part of it is somehow still messing with my mind.  How is it possible that anybody I taught is now in grad school?  Wait....doesn't that make me....um....old?  Well. Yes.  Yes, it does. 

But you know what?  That's perfectly fine.  I am content with it.  When these brilliant ones I am teaching come back to me as Dr. So-and-So, I'm going to just smile with tranquility.  It's all going to be good.  At least if I'm old, I will have something about which I can be happy.  They make me happy.  Knowing they're out there stretching those rainbow-hued wings, flying and soaring, becoming, that makes these worn old grey/black raven feathers of mine very satisfactory indeed.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Getting in the Spirit of Things

I have had zero Christmas spirit this year.  Those of you for whom I am not a faceless entity may be surprised by this since I am usually all about all holidays in all their forms. I have not put up a Christmas bulletin board.  I have not put lights up on the house.  I could not seem to make myself get a tree.  I have barely been able to bring myself to do the minimal changing of the string of lights and garland I have around my classroom door for all the holidays from Halloween to graduation. 

I could blame it on a great many things, but I won't go into the depressing list.  I should have known better, really.  I should have made myself do it over Thanksgiving even though it was the last thing I felt like.  I started to, but it was so much easier to keep putting it off, and the next thing I knew, the holiday was gone and school was upon me like a rabid tiger.  Now that I'm sitting here looking at everything out and on display, I feel silly for not putting forth the effort sooner. 

I got my tree in about fifteen minutes this afternoon at the place we've been getting our trees from since I was very young.  I don't have to have a moment of epiphany with the trees.  That's always been Mom's thing.  I knew which one I wanted pretty quickly, so I got it and got it home fairly fast.  I got it in the stand and everything myself (of which I was proud), and as I was decorating it, I felt the first faint glimmerings of the Christmas spirit as I pulled my collection of Shiny Brights out from under the daybed in the library where I store them.  Something about the delicate and lovely silvered glass and the fact that I am simply the latest person to share their history of holiday joy stirred whatever it was inside me that has been beaten down, grumpy and dormant this year. 

My mood continued to improve as I put some of my favorite Santa ornaments on the tree.  I have some that I look forward to seeing every year, and I always make sure they get pride of place where I see them first thing as I come into the living room from different doors.  There are always a couple I forget about, and it's a nice surprise to rediscover them in the box. 

In addition to the tree, I also set out my two Christmas collections, my old-world Santas and my nativities.  I have been collecting the Santas since I was in high school, I guess, and I have enough of them to fill the top of my piano.  I don't even put all of them out anymore.  Some of the big fancy fabric ones I save back in case I need to do a frilly table somewhere.  As I unwrapped the Santas, again memories came with them.  There are several of those I actually made when I worked at a decorative ceramics business during my undergrad days.  Others have been gifts from friends and family members. 

The nativities are a more recent addition started by one I made when I worked at that ceramics business.  I started adding others to that one, and now I have a fairly large collection of those, too.  That collection made me cry tonight.  One of the pieces I have in it came from a lady in my church who passed away this past year, and I had forgotten it was there until I had opened the box and saw her name on the tag I had kept with it.  I could see her again for a moment, and it was both beautiful and painful.  That piece has pride of place this year.

I still have several things left to do.  I need to get some lights up outside, although I have decided that I am NOT going to do what I usually do and wrap all the columns of my porch with lights.  It looks great, but it takes a million years to put up and take down.  I will probably just put some around my side entry where they'll be cheery for guests and for me when I drag my weary self in at the end of my ridiculous days.   I also found a gorgeous set of vintage poinsettia curtains Granny had in storage, and I'm trying to get some storage stains out of them right now.  Regardless of whether or not I can get them pristine, they're going up in my kitchen.  They're of the same vintage as my beloved luncheonette cloths and my Shiny Brights, and they ROCK.  

I am slowly filling my house and my heart with Christmas.  It feels good.  I had missed it, really.  I love Christmas.  I always have.  It would have been sad if I allowed everything else that has been going on to kill it off for me again this year. I guess it was really just a case of doing it and allowing the sweetness of it to fill me like the fragrance of  fresh-cut cedar or the light from a candle glowing in the window, driving out the darkness.

Saturday, December 12, 2009

The New Jo-Ann, or Hello, Welcome to Our Store. I'll Be Hoovering Your Wallet Now

I had dinner with Mom last night, and afterward we decided to go to the new craft store in town, Jo-Ann.  I've been wanting to go for awhile, but I haven't had a chance to get in there.  It was so nice to have a craft store.  Granted, it's a small one; we don't get large stores here, but they have fabric, paper, yarn and everything wonderful to make things.  I was so happy.  The only thing I could have wished them to have that they didn't was stained glass stuff, but I pretty much knew they wouldn't handle that.  It's very specialized, and I am lucky that Hobby Lobby in Jackson carries any of it, really. 

I have a problem when I go in craft stores, though.  Every single thing looks good.  This is the same problem I have in book stores.  I walk up and down the aisles thinking, "You know, I could do something with that," or, "I haven't done that in so long.  I should really get some supplies for it and do a project this weekend."  Into the cart go all kinds of goodies....  By the time I got to the checkout, I had quite an impressive assortment of odds and ends in the basket.  I gritted my teeth and handed over my card.s  Oh well.  At least I have something to keep me occupied now. 

Wednesday, December 09, 2009

Tom Gauld's Noisy Alphabet



I've been laughing at this for the last fifteen minutes, particularly F is for "Foom." There's something about that that just tickles me.  All these onomatopoeia are wonderful.  The art is fantastic, too.  I found this piece through a website called Neatopia, but it's actually housed on the artist's personal site.  I encourage you to go see more of his stuff. It's all good.  And, remember, no matter how bad a day you're having, at least you haven't gone "FOOM" yet... (snicker)

What Were They Thinking? Or, Good For You, Sir.

As I was going to work this morning, the news summary came on, and I heard, amongst other little tidbits, a blurb about a 90-year-old Medal of Honor recipient who is being attacked by his Homeowners' Association because he put up a flagpole without their permission.  I had two immediate reactions. 

First:  What the....?  What kind of uptight jackasses (pardon my lack of class just this once, won't you?) go after one of the last WWII vets because he wants to fly a flag?  I mean, okay, yes, the fact that he fought in WWII does not make him a nice person, a saint, or mean that he is easy to get along with.  However, I DO think it just might warrant a wee tiny bit of respect.  Even without the medals.  Even without the fact that he also fought in Korea, too.  And was decorated in that war as well. 

Second:  Old guy (and I say that with all the respect in the world), go get your gun.  I will stand with you in your yard, and we will keep your flag flying.  Because I mean, MAN.  Just because some uptight people who want everybody's doormats to match are having an apoplectic fit does not mean you don't have the protected First Amendment right to fly a symbol of our nation. 

I hope he gets to keep his flag.  In fact, I hope a bunch of people show up at his house and put up one of those flags like they have at the car dealership downtown, one of those flags as big as a football field.  I hope everybody for three states can see it.  I hope every morning when it's hung a university marching brass band comes out and plays a medley of the National Anthem, "Stars and Stripes Forever", and "You're a Grand Old Flag" complete with cannonade and big, big cymbals. 

It just hacks me off.  The whole concept of Homeowners' Associations do in general.  If a person buys land, s/he should be able to have gnomes, flamingos, and rusted-out cars if they by-frak want them, especially if they don't attack passers-by.  I understand about lowered property values, etc., blah-blah-blah, but a lot of what HAs are about is elitist nonsense, too.  This is a perfect example of a battle that didn't have to happen.  This is a perfect example of a time when humanity should have ruled, when respect for age and accomplishment should have overruled somebody's need to live in vanilla suburbia.  This gentleman will be a part of our past, sadly, before too long.  Shouldn't we appreciate him while he's here?

Tuesday, December 08, 2009

Strength Required

So often we think that the thing that requires the greatest strength on the part of an individual is to bear our personal struggles silently, stoically, all the jagged edges hidden behind the mask and tucked away where nobody can see the wound can heal.  Sometimes, though, there are fractures of such magnitude that we can't just cover it over and wait for the distant light of morning.  Sometimes strong and silent just isn't strong at all.

There is a greater strength required of us on occasion, but it comes with a pain even sharper at first than that of the wound.  We have to admit that we aren't capable of doing it all ourselves, that we aren't all-powerful, all-capable.  We have to lay down both our weapons and our shields, lay down our pride, and reach out to somebody to ask for help. For me, there is no action more frustrating, no lesson that is harder to learn.  In fact, I still have to remind myself constantly that it is not a weakness but an incredible act of trust and strength to reach out to another and allow all those who love me to help me when I cannot do it myself. 

I think I should be able to do it all myself, you see.  I don't want to burden anybody else. It's my responsibility.  I don't want to take time, really, to have to ask anybody else to work me into their busy schedule, and I know all my friends already have so much on their plates... All of these excuses regularly appear in my rationale for trying to stumble along under my own power long after I know that I should have called for reinforcements.

The temptation is always to wait one more day, try to do one more task, try to keep one more juggler's ball in the air, but the simple truth is that sometimes I can't.  Sometimes none of us can.  Wisdom comes when we realize that we need somebody else before we drop all the balls, fail at all those tasks and reach out ahead of time for a hand to stabilize us.  And those hands are everywhere.  Even at our darkest moments, those hands are all around us if we look for them.  Some of them are friends we've known forever, people who are only a phone call away.  Some of them are people put into a specific location for just that one moment of our need, that hand in place for that one emergency grasp and rescue. 

When we can learn to recognize our own breaking point and do the hard thing, sacrifice our own vanity and pride to reach out before we reach it, we actually become stronger.  We forge stronger bonds between ourselves and those we love.  We teach ourselves humility, that most vital and bitter of all the lessons.  We also save ourselves from ourselves; we keep our hands off the steering wheel when it's better not to drive, and sometimes that's the only choice to make.  All strength is gained through some work, something given up, something given away.  

Saturday, December 05, 2009

Sam Clark Dragon


Here he is in all his glory. Hopefully I will soon have a home for him more befitting his stature than guarding my DVDs.

Chimneyville Crafts Fair

Today, my best friend and I went to Chimneyville.  I look forward to that show all year long.  The things that people can do, the sheer raw creativity accumulated in that one building never fails to give me a lift.  It's a feast of inspiration for my own feeble talents, and just such a wonderful place to look and talk and see.  I never have enough money to get what I want.  I would need thousands....  There are so many gifted artists there, and I want a little something (or a not-so-little something) from most of them.  Eyes and fingers are drawn to the play of light and color, to the loveliness of wood, pottery, glass, metal, jewels, and fabric.   Every conceivable artform is there, and each exhibitor is a master of his or her craft.

Today, I visited the three artisans I always go to, but I only bought from one of them this year.  I loved everything I saw from them, but I just decided this year, I wanted something different.

For the past three years I've been going to Chimneyville, there's been a potter I've wanted a piece from, but I've never been able to get one of his pieces because either the one I wanted was always gone by the time I made my circle of the show and got back to his booth or because I simply didn't have enough money.  Today, though, I was ready.  I got a dragon today from the very talented Sam Clark, and I love it.  His dragons have the most wonderful expressions.  They always look like they're extremely clever and up to something, just as a dragon should be.

I want so much to take him to my classroom, but I'm afraid he will meet an untimely demise if I do that, so I will find a place among my Japanese dragons and maneki neko for him to live.  I think he'll feel right at home here.  Maybe next year, I will be able to bring him a sly-smiling friend to whom he can tell his dragon secrets.

Thursday, December 03, 2009

Christmas Music

I've not been in a very festive mood yet this year.  I've put up almost no decorations, gotten no tree, decked no halls.  This morning, though, I dug out my cd case of Christmas music and took it to school with me.  As I rolled down the driveway, I popped in one of my very favorite discs, Third Day's Christmas Offerings cd. 

Every year, the cds take me by surprise.  The music was so good.  I found myself singing before I got on the interstate.  By the time I was in town, I was in full song, and my mood was lifted.  I was contemplating Christmas and feeling cheery.  It was a nice way to start the day.

Christmas music has such a wonderful effect.  It helps me reach for the holiday long before my heart is ready.  Whether it's Elvis or Oh Holy Night, I need it at this time of the year.  It's too hard to balance all the other pressures with the joy that is supposed to be present.  The sweet notes of those precious, seldom-heard songs twining through crowds and hectic activity remind me about what I'm supposed to be focused on.  It's a much-needed reminder and lift.

Tuesday, December 01, 2009

Today

Today, I had a day.  It was a day like I haven't had before.  I'm not talking about one full of minor irritations or petty nonsense.  I'm talking about a D-A-Y, an adrenaline-spiking, heart-wrenching, soul-crushing day.  If it seems like I'm being vague, you're right.  And it's going to continue, so keep reading or click out.  You choose. 

At the end of today, I felt like sitting on my floor and running my fingers over the patterns in the tile, looking for connections and meaning in the chaos of little broken dots that appear there.  But I didn't. Instead, I wrote a poem that might be the best thing I've written in months.  Instead, I turned out the light, closed the door and locked it securely and left.  Instead, I went to Dollar Tree and walked around in a daze, bought colored paper clips and PEZ, a Diet Coke and some holographic tissue paper.

If tomorrow is like today was, I think, quite frankly, I'm going to lose whatever shreds I have left of my poor befuddled mind.