Freak-Show of a Chick



So I’ve been going about my bid-ness, like always. And it has occurred to me that I may be a freak-show of a chick. From whence did I draw this conclusion? I’ll tell ya.


While doing laundry this week, I knew certain articles of clothing absolutely had to be washed, while others could wait. For example, socks and underpants are have-to items. Duh. Jeans, usually, can be worn a few times. And because of the danged drought, I push things as long as I can. Fewer clothes equals fewer loads equals less water. Makes sense, right?


So anyhoo – I was all prepared to wait on one pair of jeans, as I’d only worn them once since the last washing. And then I remembered I’d had cheese in one of the pockets. And I know that sounds crazy, but clearly it’s possible as it happened to me. So into the wash went the jeans.


Having cheese in my pants pocket does not a freak-show make. I mean, that could happen to anyone. (It could, couldn’t it?) I’ve experienced many events that, though odd, didn’t make me nuts. I’ve jumped out of an airplane. I’ve auditioned – cold – for “Rent.” There have been topless photos shown on CNN Europe. (Not gonna explain that one.) I’ve run for my life from a chain-wielding gang in a desolate urban landscape. I’ve been mistaken for Marie Fredriksson of “Roxette” and gotten perks because of it – and I never did set the record straight. I once faked a terrible cockney accent for a full 2 hours, while enjoying a late-night hansom cab ride through New York. (It cost a full $25 and the driver stopped and got a couple of tall boys for me and my friend.) Oh – and I speak squirrel.


None of that makes me a freak-show. It just makes me, well, me. And now that I’ve been traveling down memory lane, I have to tell you – a little cheese in my pants pockets doesn’t seem that odd. Not at all.

My Hero



Today is the birthday of the one and only Kate Bush. Because her artistry has meant so much to me, and continues to amaze and influence me, I wish her the very best birthday ever. With all my heart…




Sometimes I feel, well, untethered. In those moments, I want to find myself, and I want to feel grounded.



But wanting to feel grounded and actually feeling grounded are two different things.



So I look to places for a sense of belonging. Occasionally, I get lucky. More often than not, I am left feeling as lost as ever.



Heaven help me – I will probably always be searching…




Sometimes when the heat builds up, I become heavy-lidded and start yawning. When that lull hits, I am struck lazy.


For the most part, I don’t mind those moments, nor do I judge them. But sometimes a gal has got some plates to spin and that ain’t gonna happen when she’s kicking back on the couch. So far, the lazies have struck when I’ve been active (for example – cleaning) and when I’ve been not so active (filing, say). So my activity level doesn’t seem to be a factor. Go figure.


I know I can force myself to get up and jump in the pool for a quick blast of perk, but I haven’t come up with any other ideas to fight the lazies. (And caffeine isn’t an option for me in the afternoon, in case you were wondering.) So if you’ve got any suggestions, I’m open. Please!

Dinner With Baker Jen




Friday night found us having dinner with our friend, Baker Jen. And as she and Mister are drinking soul-mates, they both relished Paisley Martinis.



We had a fab time and we laughed and talked and, as often happens when friends get together, we solved all the world’s problems in one evening. Right in our living room. Unfortunately, the world has no idea. Too bad.


It was a grand night. And I have to tell you – one of the highlights was the potatoes shown below. I roasted those babies in goose fat and they were sublime. Lucky for me, I made extra. Yum!



Summer will be swirling around us for some time. I hope to see more friends and have more fun and delicious food, and I recommend the same for you. For now, I’ve got some delicious potatoes to remind me of one swell night.




Last week I attended a meeting in a church hall and I swear – I half expected to burst into flames. Of course, I’ve thought that every time I’ve found myself anywhere near a church, and I’m still flame-free, so what do I know? (Hint: The answer is Not Much.)

National Dance Day



Today is National Dance Day here in America. And I support the heck out of that.


I’m not a dancer myself, mind you. In fact, over the last few years I’ve come to understand that I am fairly awkward when it comes to dance moves. Truth be told, I don’t think I’ve ever been any good at dancing, but I’ve always had such fun trying! It never occurred to me to judge my dance ability, as any time I was in the act of dancing, I was filled with joy. Now that I know how bad I am, I hope I can continue having fun, as I’d hate to deny myself that happiness just because I lack talent.


I have no plans to hit the clubs tonight. I won’t be tripping the light fantastic in any elite establishments about town, either. But I may put on a few records and shake what the good lord gave me, in my own living room. My foot is tapping and I’m smiling – just thinking about it.

3rd Rock



Not sure if you saw this image provided by NASA this week. Their Deep Space Climate Observatory satellite sent the photo from a million miles away. And it sure is pretty.


Something about this photo really gets me. Maybe because it reminds me that where we live is so much bigger than our ridiculous behavior. Some could argue we are a sorry lot, and that our choices do nothing more than prove our ignorance. Some wouldn’t be wrong in that assessment, either, as we certainly can be a sorry lot. I don’t know about you, but sometimes I find it’s easier to look around and be inundated with human douchery than not. That, friends, is no way to live.


On the other hand – when we do something right, wow! Those few, shining moments seem to keep us going, don’t they? I love those moments, and that’s how I want to live. Recognizing the old gal at the local who remembers each customer’s name and smiles as she works, no matter how tired her feet may be. Having a buddy who drives around town, donating her old books to various neighborhood libraries, instead of tossing them in a recycling bin. Knowing a group of gals who meet in a firehouse and roll socks to send to service members and veterans. I want to live seeing human kindness. And when I truly open my eyes and make the effort, that is precisely what I see.


When I look at this NASA photo, I see the prettiest marble ever. And I recognize it as my home. Yes, we human inhabitants can be a sorry lot. But we can also choose better. We can care for each other and we can care for earth. That’s what I pray for anyway. And pray I do.

Thursday Memories



Okay. So I found this old photo, scanned it and here it is. I have absolutely no idea what was going on or what I was doing. But I have no pride, nor shame, therefore I am sharing it with you. Besides – it’s swimming season. And for all I know, you may be searching for a unique look for the neighborhood pool. Search no more, friends. Search no more.


You’re welcome.

“The Salt of the Earth”



The other night Mister and I watched an amazing documentary made by Wim Wenders. And when I say amazing, I mean amazing, y’all.


The film is called “The Salt of the Earth” and photographer Sebastião Salgado is the focus. His work spans some 40-odd years and is phenomenal in and of itself. But the film goes beyond his photography and covers his family’s conservation work as well. To hear his stories and see his work is a gift. And I won’t lie – some of it is uncomfortable. For while Mr. Salgado has documented earth’s beauty, he has also covered human tragedies and devastation. More than once, I found myself tearing up.


Without giving anything away, I do want to tell you that one tear-filled moment was just lovely. A part of the film caught me by surprise and wowed me in the best way. So not only is this documentary stirring for its darkness, but also for its light.


I highly recommend seeing “The Salt of the Earth” and I really hope you do. Salgado’s work is reason enough. His life puts it over the top.