Dewey Decimal Bound

If one more person asks how my book is coming along I am going to vociferate in utter protest of their ignorance. Let me tell you how it's going. It's long, it's hard and offers only occasional glimmers of hope and excitment when a few words gel into a thought that someone might think about. It's basically turning into years of self doubt and deep angst. If you can picture the process it is my brain in my pajamas every night churning out words and hoping for the feeble attemp at order.

But it keeps coming... night after anguishing night.

"Come on Irene"

Irene called tonight. We've only spoken sporadically since my return from Wyoming. Tonight was a long catching up conversation. Irene is the most cheerful person I have ever know, despite her difficult life. She always laughs and draws people into her wealth of optimism. When Charlie died, it was Irene that consoled me, though her heart was breaking. When Irene had to go back to work at the age of 76 she was delighted to have found a job. She is always asking for more hours. She loves people and loves to be at work amongst them.

She wanted my latest news and sympathized for both me and Phil for our current plight, as she loves us both.

I talked endlessly, regaled her with my legal battles, my heartbreak and my constant fear of the unknown.

I asked Irene if she was OK. To that she replied, "oh yes, I have $40 for the week, so I will be alright".

For the first time in my life, I was completely ashamed of myself. I spend my thoughts absorbed in my misery when I actually have no problems, simply details. It was a harsh moment of clarity. I am humbled.

It is my truth that people that come through out lives are there for a specific reason. They are all teachers in one way or another. Human connections are not to be taken lightly. I am guilty of not recognizing that lately in lieu of my own self absorbed grief. This was a big moment to stop and think.

My apologies to those I have hurt.

Court Ordered to clean my house

Lest you wonder, the previous post about resplendent cleanliness was a 'to do" list.

My house is anything but. It mirrors my current messy life.

My vision is a kitchen that commands chopping, with inspiration from a freshly sanded down bamboo cutting board sitting on the counter in between the sink and the stove placed there because according to feng shui principals, there should be wood between fire and water. The idea is that fire and water are destructive, in that water quenches fire however, balanced by placing wood between the two. But the unsuspecting cook does not know that. They just feel the chi and long to take knife in hand.

Smell of freshly made banana bread, spotless floors, a well stocked pantry and recently rotated refrigerator media are unrecognized rewards to most, but amongst my greatest pleasures.

When I watch movies or shows of family situations and family life, I do not focus on the characters, instead look at the backgrounds into the kitchens and notice every thing in them. Often I see cutting boards with foods on them ready to be prepared. Tonight I was watching American Beauty and there was a cutting board on the white counter with carrots on it. The carrots had their green leafy tops which is not their usual state in my modern supermarket. I am awestruck by the fact that someone took the time to go buy those carrots to place on that movie set that no one will ever notice. What lonely work!!

Sitting in the dark tonight in the "slow" corner of my yard I light a chocolate flavored cigar. I know it's a deal breaker, but a sweet indulgence I refuse to give up because it feels like a luxurious rebellion. My yards, once a source of pride and are now a source of contention due to neglect and mishandling. When it was all left up to me, I dug in with enthusiasm. My incompetence reared glaringly before long when I mowed over all the sprinkler heads, leaving my yards in shambles. I burned up the weed eater and forget to empty the baskets that pool debris empties into. I have to set a reminder to add chlorine and turning on the water to fill the pool up is akin to leaving my curling iron on. I forget to turn it off, providing another disaster. Everything is dying, including me.

I have until October to pull this thing together, when the "for sale" sign is to be planted. A day I dread. Selling my home will be like offering my soul to the highest bidder.

I feel like this ole' world has left me behind.

I am getting my house in order.

Star Struck

I don't have talent behind the lens but am grateful for this photo. I took 657 tonight throughtout the night with extreme exposure that kept stressing my battery. The outcome was one photo worthy of the memory of this year's Perseids shower. It was short of spectacular. I spent the night alone in the desert, just north of the lake in some dark spot off the road.

My shutter speed was the most complex of factors to be considered. You want a long enough exposure so that you capture a good number of meteor streaks, yet not so long that the stars themselves start to streak. But, now you see the quandary. Even with a 25 second exposure using a 24mm lens, how many meteor trails do you think you can capture? Not many, unless we really have a "storm". So, is the solution to simply take longer exposures and live with the star streaks? Yes, I did it.

Morning

Just another day

I am happiest when my home isn't just clean – it's resplendent. Glowing white bathrooms full of sterile tile. Neat cupboards full of canned vegetables and that ubiquitous round of canned tuna that was on sale. Dishwashers that are empty and ready for another load. Beds made with taunt and crisp sheets, and the expensive down pillows that I indulged in few weeks ago are plump and inviting upon them. The smell of lemon furniture polish and the aroma of fresh paint fills every room.

I am watching "Big Love" for the second time. I missed the plot the first time in lieu of my own "big love".

Vickie has faded into her life again after our carefree summer. She is back to work now. I will miss our travels and hours on the phone. So will Cingular.

Michel is home from Europe.

Heading toward alone

At 10:34 I am on the 101 at some 80 MPH on my way back. From what and to what becomes a question as I drive carefree with windows down because I need to feel it. It feels good, even though I am headed to alone. I know I am walking into severe melancholy, but give in.

Was it to hard to try?

Doesn't really matter much, now it's gone. Where was your soul when your heart let me go? What am I supposed to do with what we had?

Does it even matter, now I'm down this road.........

We all end up walking alone. Tonight, it was on the 101, alone with my fears and this asphalt diversion. What a shame. I think my broken heart is on the mend....

I can't be sure.

Park your cart!

My truck was hit by a shopping cart in the grocery store parking lot the other day. Some stranger was kind enough to point it out, otherwise, the latest ding would have been a mystery. Supermarkets are like mythical holy places here in my Arizona neighborhood. Each one more magnificent than the next, vying for our grocery dollars. But still, going to the supermarket is deeply time consuming and repetitive. Therefore, I have decided to rethink the whole boring job and turn this chore into a place of zen. I do it by returning my own shopping cart to it's rightful place when I am done with it. It sounds minor, but it has become a ritual of righteousness. Now that I have begun my career of cart returning I find myself mentally tsk-tsking when I see carts others have left behind.

My cart is my responsibility and I like to do what's right. It makes me feel as if I am not just a consumer, but a useful, productive volunteer.

If everyone just returned his or her metaphorical cart, the world would be a better place, I think. It becomes a matter of one such small gesture, thought or kind act that saves you from creating a "ding" in another. How many small opportunities in life present themselves without ever being noticed?

Let it Rain!!

It's been a wonderful monsoon season so far. I would like to request a little more thunder however. Thank you.

Sitting here on my patio on the rare occasion that is is nice enough to be outside. The thermometer reads 80 degrees with humidity that is less than comfortable, but it's a far cry from the 118 we usually have. The gentle breeze rocking my wind chimes makes it all tolerable. I look around my meager existence and feel content that I have this. The plants are tattered derelicts of their recent beauty. They are coming back though, with daily love and tending to. I notice the honeysuckle that struggles near the pool is holding it's own. It has reached the top of the wall and is intermingled with Roxanne's own honeysuckle planted in the exact same spot on the other side of our common brick wall. I lean back and light a mocha vanilla flavored cigar that I bought at the wine bar several nights ago and survey the bedraggled scene of my backyard. We are both tattered remnants of ourselves, but showing promise for a strong comeback.

Sometimes the best deals are the ones you don't make.

Possibilities

There is a storm brewing over my house this afternoon.

Needed: Encouragement

I am about to blow a deadline for submission for the "Chicken Soup" people. It's due by midnight tonight. And though it's only 8 ish, and I could feasibly submit as it is written, but can't reasonably let anyone read it. I'm a little bit frustrated with myself and will struggle with this until 11:59. They are publishing "Chicken Soup for the Divorced Soul" in October. And my initial draft was accepted, I can't finish it. I've been struggling for days. I can't just let it go. I get to a raw point in the story and it stops. I need a conclusion, some wisdom anything to make this all worthwhile. I just can't find it right now. I don't understand my own divorce and so how do I dare to attempt to give insight to readers when I am still grasping for the next day myself?

My Cup Runneth Over

SLUMBER PARTY

Emma is here for our much anticipated sleepover. There were hardly enough hours in the evening for everything we had to catch up on. The sandbox had to be gone over with a fine toothed rake, she reaquainted herself with forgotten toys, there was cooking, coloring and walking on the golf (in the rain tonight).

Just about dinner time, we got into an 18 minute discussion about macaroni that was as enlightening as any conversation that I had with adults at the wine bar last night. She is certainly pasta opinionated. Our discussion got heated at one point and she adamantly said "quit saying macaroni", which threw me into a fit a laughter to which she responded by saying "it's not funny" with that frown that she gets. So I took her seriously and we concluded the discussion with this; "macaroni is the best food because they are noodles and you can eat them with your fingers". Can't argue with that. So we made a pot and ate the whole thing with our fingers.

It was heart wrenching to realize how much time I have missed with Emma in the past few months and extremely healing to my soul that is was like we had not been apart even one day. I sit on the other side of a big chair from her as she is drinking milk and watching the discovery channel about migrating birds. I am watching her. This child emanates an intelligence and grace I have seen from few people in my life. She's here to teach us.

The photos she approved of can be viewed here.

My Photo Editor

Miss E.G.Moseley gets credit for the photo editing, using Corel Paint Shop Pro.

Updated Vacation Photos

Bigger Than the imagined Thought

DNA is proof that an entity with infinitely higher technical ability than ourselves is responsible for implanting a DNA message into the cell of everything alive in the universe which says "Hello, I am your Creator"

Take that thought and chew on it.

Had a bolt of lightening tonight and then had a few brain bolts later.

This is for the late night crowd.........

My recent journey has been "do or die". I choose to do, as the alternative was to easy. Now so far on the other side of the abyss I have bright moments of clarity that I would have paid top dollar for some 6 months ago. These moments cannot be bought. I have earned every one.

Back in May I was in the company of Wayne Dyer. He mentioned he was finishing a book and would send me a copy upon publishing. I jotted down my address and never thought of it again. Tonight, UPS delivered a first edition copy of Wayne's book, not yet out in stores, entitled:

Change Your Thoughts, Change Your Life

Living the Wisdom of the Tao.

He autographed it, and it now sits on my bedside table. The whole thoughtful gesture, uncommonly huge in my life, has massive impact. I aspire to touch people as he touched me. Simple. A simple kind act can propel someones entire universe in another direction.

It did lead me into deep thought about my life.

I think I will, from here on, enjoy the mystery that is life. I intend to now let the world unfold without always attempting to figure it all out. Let relationships just be since everything is going to stretch out in Divine order. I will no longer try to make things work but simply allow. When expectations are shattered, I will relax, let go, recognize that my mind is thinking how I think things SHOULD be, rather than how it is now, in this moment. I intend to become an astute observer, judge less... listen more.

I vow to take time to open my mind to the fascinating mystery and uncertainty that we all experience. I am not alone.

Monsoon 07

(photo credit: A Allen Photography)

Finally. I have been having a standoff with Mother Nature. I have no time to water and it's her job. But the stubborn ole wench just holds back and holds back. So much so that my bamboo is looking more like dry wheat ands all of the pot plants have died. But I was determined to wait it out. Tonight, my patience paid off. We had a good long soaking here in Glendale. The ground is so hard and parched that all of the topsoil is now in the pool and 2 ducks have taken up residence in the grassy area in front. Everything is finally wet and I feel vindicated. Now if only we could have 30 days in a row like tonight!!

Paws, on the other hand, had an old man moment and freaked out at the thunder and lightening. I tried to soothe him while I was perched on a metal garden chair in the middle of an intense lightening storm with Nikon poised. I was in the moment and lacked compassion. Therefore, he decided to leave. This is the second time this week he has taken it upon himself to wander the loop alone. When the first wave died down I went to retrieve him. He's over across the way in Harry and Sharon's front yard. It's raining and I have no shoes. I call him back and he gives me a look as if he just flipped me off. He starts to run (as fast as he runs these days) to defy me! I am wet, barefoot, with jeans soaked to my knees now chasing the old dog down the street. Catching him was not an issue, getting him back home was. As he likes to live naked, he had no collar on. He dug in and refused to go home. I am pleading in the middle of the street while grabbing him by the scruff and pulling him toward home. This scene continues for a half of a block and for the duration, he is fighting me. I finally got behind him and pushed his butt toward the garage as he is digging his feet in to the ground so as not to move. Asshole. I won in the end. My reputation in the neighborhood, however, is suspect. I can just imagine the talk behind the windows witnessing our outlandish behavior.

Miss Emma wanted a blog recognition, as it has been awhile. Grandma is working so much and in between that and traveling I feel neglectful of our times together, I hope to remedy that soon. She had definate ideas about posing for this shot.

She always welcomes me with love and much, much to say. This child never stops talking.It's a wonderful life when you have so much to say you just cannot contain yourself.

Speaking of work, here's the "A" list crew, hard at it. Nikki, Emo, Tyler and Beverly. And excellent team! Thank you.

Hello Moto

My latest wacky mishap involves a cell phone, a glass of water and insurmountable odds. Yet......

It was a great day on the plastics line. Everyone is gone for the day and I am lesiurely completing some cables after having cleaned the line and set it all up for tomorrow. I feel pretty smug about our progress and my mind wanders to dinner. I have a flank steak, fresh onion and some multicolored peppers to make fajitas. I'm just about to go to the kitchen to get started when my phone vibrates in my pants. It's Dan. I am surprised to hear from him as he is at Darwin using the satelite phone. He either wants to talk to me badly enough to use the satelite, or he needs to know where the Deep Woods "Off" is located. In my delight to talk to him, I fumble the phone and it falls into my glass of water sitting beside me. FREAK ACCIDENT?? It's a 3 inch opening, yet my phone has found its way in, complete with a splash. Though I dive in after it right away, it is dead. I don't believe it though. I can revive a phone. So I blow on it, remove the battery and sim card, shake it, reassemble it and nothing. I bring out the big guns and use the hairdryer assuming I can blast it back to life, to no avail.

I have to have a phone, especially in the morning when I have to call receiving at work to announce my arrival so they will open the load door. I go to the hall closet which is jam packed with unwanted items that I can't yet bear to get rid of. Consider it my "junk closet". A step up from junk drawer. I find 3 old cell phones and think I can piece together some sort of communication device to tide me over. I insert my sim card into the first phone, but it's locked. I try the second phone, but it's to old. The last phone is juuuust right. But HAS NO CHARGER!

Sigh

I'm off to the mall. The result is a new slide phone with a 500 page manual and more features than I will ever learn before I break it or it becomes obsolete. So if you call me and I appear lame, be gentle, I am figuring out how to answer.

My other problem tonight is that I turned on the TV and everybody's head is cut off. Is there a button for that? or a mode or???? Technology is taunting me tonight. I'm going to go look at stars instead.

Back to Reality

I woke at 4 AM again and wonder about this new, early morning habit. I roused my sleeping computer so I didn't have to be alone, but it had nothing interesting to offer. Paws glanced at me as I wandered by on my way to the kitchen for ice water. The kitchen clock is off by four hours due to the recent burgular situation. I make a mental note to fix it and wander back to my bed to steal a couple more hours sleep.

My day officially starts with a wake up call from Dan questioning me about the inventory in the bear boxes and how much wine is left in camp. I have a full day on the plastics line and feel a moment of dread about our ability to turn out 250 boxes each and every day for the unforseeable future. Not only is it a daunting task, but I have a brand new crew starting together today for the first time.

Nikki arrives first, or rather her belly (my grandson) does and she is not far behind. She's all business and immediately launches into the cable job. I wish I could clone her. Beverly meanders in next full of lighthearted chatter and enthusiasm, followed by Emo who speaks less than 20 words in his entire shift. You can't blame him really and have to admire his courage to spend the day with three women that babble on about recipes, pregnancy and reality TV.

I become very animated on the subject of reality TV as a new season of Big Brother has started and we have a live feed running in the background on the laptop next to payroll. Beverly is just as enthused as I am about our vouyeristic obsession. We think we can convert the others.

Slowly the talk and chatter dies away as we all fall into work mode, focusing each, on our individual tasks that eventually becomes a part of the whole. The line flowed smoothly, everyone was dynamic and we four worked extremely well together. From start to finish is took 5 1/2 hours for 4 people in harmony to complete 260 plastics. There is certain victory in honest work, no matter how humble. Today we were victorious.

Big Brother is on! I settle in with Pistachios, wine, Paws and a sigh of contentment.

"Oh give me a home"

I was woken at 4AM by a thunderstorm! What a treat. It's even offering some rain, however insignificant. It's as if the universe is welcoming me back.

I met this herd of Buffalo last week, Saturday or Sunday, I can't remember which. They where roaming a meadow just south of the Grand Teton National Park. They decided to cross the road we were on, leaving us no choice but to yield to their slow migration to the other side. I got a little closer than recommended to get these photos. Better to face the hazard than to be in fear of it. Feeling alive involves some risk. I certainly feel alive!

I would love nothing better than to spend my Sunday editing and preparing a slideshow from the mere 429 pictures that I took while on vacation. But my workload at Overflow is daunting and I have to start. Photos and memories will trickle in as time allows.

I have to retrieve my dog and my work ethic. I think I can find both.

The storm has ended, the day begins.

Home Again

My disappearance for the last ten days was a much needed reprieve. I return with a zest for life and saddle sores.

I have been a traveling. I sent myself a postcard from every significant destination. I look forward to getting them this week.

Stop Thief!

It started as an uneventful Saturday night. Satisfied by my smelt fry, I settled in on the corner of the couch with John Bon Jovi and my evening glass of wine. I prepared to spend the night writing when Nikki called to alert me to a moon phenomena. PawPaws and I wondered out to the golf with camera in hand. The moon was indeed spectacular, resembling a harvest moon, but in the summertime. I spent an hour photographing it as well as Venus and Saturn who are putting on their own show on the other side of the horizon.
(The Saturn and Venus show peaks July 1st (tonight) in your western sky. These two worlds are in conjunction tonight, separated by less than 1 degree on the sky’s dome. A view worth witnessing.) No wonder I am an emotional basket case this weekend. Lunar lunacy is tugging at me. I don't give credence to Phil's theory, but it has been a fucked up weekend.

I took my leave from lucidity and went to bed early. Sometime in the night, 12:34 to be exact, I was jolted from my sleep by a noise. I thought it must be a coyotte that woke me. I rolled over to check the clock. The clock is black and I can't see the time. I drag my feet to the floor, the ceiling fan is not on and it's hot in here. I touch the switch, but it's already in the on position. My groggy brain thinks I am still asleep, as nothing is working in the house. I amble to the bathroom and flip on the light. There is no light. I am registering that I have no electricity. I am waking up to the fact that something is not right. My first thoughts are of devistation, alone and vulnerable I have to face another situation. My minds grabs and grasps at what this might be. Is there a blackout? Did I pay the bill? I go outside my bedroom door and the entire neighborhood is well lit. It's just me. I shake my head to gather clarity and walk out the front door to check my breakers. The breaker box is wide open and has been tampered with. My electricity has been deliberatly turned off by someone. My heart hammers in my chest and I am out in the open. I can't see the levers and don't know them well enough to flip anything, so I get myself back in the house and lock my door. It's dark. I am terrified and I don't know if anyone is in the house with me. I scramble to call 911, but my house phone runs on electricity and is dead. My cell phone is dead, I did not charge it. It's so damn dark in here. I am always prepared but cannot remember where a flashlight is. My heart is coming thru my chest now. I feel like a character in one of those babysitter movies. I am a sitting duck. I remembered a red emergency light in the big bathroom cupboard and I locate it. So I have a beam of light, but I am trapped. My only option is to go out to the box and flip on the breaker. I had no choice, so I hurried out, did it and hurried back in. Called 911. I now have to check out the house. Am I alone? Or do I have an inturder. I need to get my gun. I find it, with it's security lock! And where is the key??? I locate key and bullets and load the thing and go from room to room. I think everything is OK and my hammering heart begins to subside. My sweet policeman shows up and sweeps the house, checks my doors and security and locks up my utility box. He stayed for 2 hours out front. My terror touched him. He informed me that I was the 5th house tonight that had been victimized. He reassured me that he would be in the neighborhood all night. All they stole was my night and my confidance.

I need a vacation.