Conversations.

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One evening I was at a friends home for dinner and there were a few people that I did not know.  Everyone was having a great time, wine and good food were to blame.  I had a conversation with one of the guests and when it happened you know my thought was "Can't wait to blog this one."

Me: There are going to be quite a few hangovers tomorrow.

Guest:  I agree and I am well on my way to having one.

Me:  I have found that having some Coke in the morning helps my hangovers.

Guest:  Oh I totally agree, a few lines of coke always helps.

Me:  Uh, I am talking about Coke, the beverage.

Guests:  *blink blink* *crickets*

Right Candy. Wrong Flavor.

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Last week I grabbed a piece of T's candy. I am not a huge candy fan, but I do like the occasional  Starburst. They remind me of the Sugus candy we had in South Africa.

My favorite flavor is orange so I grabbed one of those and popped it into my mouth. As I was chewing I noticed that the flavor was beginning to change. It became tart and then morphed into a flavor that I couldn't put my finger on. I looked at the packaged and saw the fine print. (Okay, fine print to me.)  This was the new Starburst Morph range.

I started to think how this candy represented so many aspects of my life.  The package was in a sense the same, only my expectation of the flavor changed and I was left disappointed.

And there you have it in a nutshell, my 2x4 moment, the realization that we set ourselves up in life for our own disappointments. The package never lies, we just choose to either ignore or not pay attention to the fine print.

Reflections.

It is always about the attitude and the pose. 

Today is my 47th birthday.  Not a milestone birthday by any means.  Many of my friends had a very hard time when they turned 40.  That was the number to them.  The number that meant it was a fast trip down the hill.

My 40th birthday was truly one of my most memorable.  Bear and I were newly weds and he planned one of the most incredible birthday celebrations for me.  He had devoted many hours to compiling and  putting together a movie about my life and I was in tears through out the entire production.  My career was on a high, I had a great job, T was doing well and our family life was loving and calm.  I was confident in who I was and that I was loved.

Move on seven years later and I feel as though I am in a black hole, drifting, uncertain and afraid.  (This could also be attributed to me watching too many reruns of Star Trek.)  Life gives us all a few hard knocks and we are taught to get up, brush ourselves off and keep moving forward.  After how many knocks does one call a time out?  Why is it that I want to wave the white flag and call surrender?

Over the years as a Mother and a Wife we tend to forget who we are as many of us take on our roles with vigor and determination.  Then one day you look around and notice that something is different.  The sun isn't shining as bright anymore and the stars have lost their twinkle. Slowly the black hole starts to suck you in.

The first text I received today was from my cousin.  She wrote "Happy birthday to a gorgeous, brilliant and super witty woman! You will always be my cool cousin with the pink Citi Golf."

I currently don't feel as if I am any of those things and isn't that how it always is, we can never see the wood for the trees when we are engulfed in depression.

During my darkest days there has been one constant, my umbilical cord to reality. I have never lost focus on that I have an incredible family that loves me unconditionally and who will forever be my biggest cheerleaders.

It is because of them that I have reached my 47th birthday.

Dear Cuisinart.

My ever faithful, Cuisinart.

Dear Cuisinart:

As I took you down from your shelf this morning I was reminded that this past December you and I have celebrated 22 wonderful years together. You were my first wedding gift.

Through out the years we have pureed, blended, chopped, grated, mixed, crumbed and baked many a wonderful dish. As a young wife you made me appear to be a well seasoned chef when cooking for my husband. When T was an infant, together you and I created the most nutritious wonderful pureed meals and recreated those when he got his braces.

Many meals and baking experiments were mostly successful.  The flops were purely on my overzealousness for pushing the PULSE button once too many times. Frustration at certain situations may have played a part.

We have had some wonderful dinner parties together and the compliments I have received is because we have made a great team.

You have survived nine moves, three of those across State lines. When I have entertained the thought of upgrading you I remember how faithful you have been throughout these years.  You have been more faithful and have lasted longer than the marriage you were the gift for.

To many more great years together.

Nubian

The Large Yellow Home.

At the bottom of our hill, between the tall Oregon pines and the scrub oak, sits a large yellow home.  In the summer the squirrels scamper amidst the flowers in the garden and dogs on leashes strain anxiously trying to join in the fun.  The large verandah overlooks a farm where the sheep lazily graze and the sounds of the tractor in the distance is a low, soft hum.

Cars drive up and down the hill, past the large yellow home, the farm and the pine trees.  The drivers oblivious to their surroundings eager to get to their destination. College students on bicycles with their headphones placed firmly in their ears cycling to the beat.

As the sun begins it's journey to foreign destinations the lights in the large yellow home turn on.  There are no curtains or blinds to obstruct the view.  As I drive up the hill I notice an older man sitting in his chair, gazing out his window.  My eyes glance up as I drive by and then focus back on the road and my mission.

There is a sign in front of the large yellow home.  It informs all who pass that this is an assisted living facility.  As the seasons begin to change and the squirrels sleep, the one thing that remains constant is the man, sitting in his chair, gazing out his window.

I wonder what his story is?  What does he see?  Does he have a family?  Did he abandon those who loved him in his earlier years now only to sit alone gazing out his window? Does he remember the days when he was connected to the rest of the world? Does he have regrets? Does he see the cars zooming up and down the hill?  Does he dream of days and moments lost? Does he want to close his eyes and see no more?

Does he see me, looking at him.

Reason Bajillion on Why I Love Twitter.

As many of you know I am a Twitter groupie.  Twitter gets things done.  Twitter has introduced me to some great people who I would never have otherwise met.  Alexis, Dr. Rob and Erin are some of those people.  

After the tragic event at Newtown, Alexis sent out this tweet.

My response and the response from Erin Ashe and Dr. Rob Williams with Oceans Initiative.  

I received an email from Dr. Williams letting us know that they were working on this.

Today I received an update from Alexis with an article that was on the news.

How cool is that!

Alexis, Erin and Rob you are the most rocking group of Marine Biologists out there!  Thank you.



Go follow these wonderful folk on Twitter and blogs.

Alexis Rudd - Sounding the Sea - http://bioacoustics.blogspot.com/

Erin Ashe and Dr. Rob Williams - Oceans Initiative - http://www.oceansinitiative.org/