Wordless Wednesday: In Utah Sky

processing.

I'm still trying to take it all in.  It might be a bit before I have the words.  How wonderful it was to travel.  How amazing it was to be carefree, to rest, to relax into a slow pace.   How easy it was to be with him.  How beautiful it was there.  How much deeper things have gone.   How much I think I learned about myself and my life in just five days.  Each of these is a post in itself.  I'm sure it will be coming.

roller coaster ride.

{looking forward to some reading during flight time}

It's been a bit of a roller coaster ride this week, physically and mentally. Daily life has been busy, two of the three of us have been plagued by mysterious stomach ailments and then there is the trip, and on top still fighting off the cold.

Thursday I leave for Colorado.  It's a trip I've been counting down since the day he left in December.  85 days ago.  It seemed then an unbearable amount of time to go without seeing each other.  A very depressing amount of time.  

Difficult to lose someone for twenty years, find them for eleven days and then they are gone again.  But somehow we've made it and 48 hours from now, I will be there.

I am excited.  Beyond excited.  Excited to have this time to spend with him.  Excited to have this time for us to be alone.  Excited that I will actually have four full days without the responsibilities of work, motherhood, household.

But right now I am tired.  Tired.  Tired from the responsibilities of work, motherhood and household.  Tired from preparing myself and my home for this trip.  Tired from worrying about whether the girls will be okay, thinking what if something goes wrong with them or with myself.  And so today I have asked him, only half-jokingly, if it is okay if I just sleep curled up next to him for the first 24 hours.

The girls seem fine, quite excited actually that Grandmom (my mother) is coming to stay for five days.  My mother is quite content that everything will be fine, but I have NEVER been away from these girls.  This is the mother who agonized over the divorce and not being there to watch over on Wednesday nights and Saturdays.  So for me, there is a bit of stress over leaving them at home.  (I won't go into the letters I've written them in case something should happen to me).

But again, part of this journey is about me.  About me finding myself, my happiness and part of my happiness right now lies in Colorado.  Part of my journey is about seeing where this road is leading, and some of that needs to be explored between the two of us.

So right now feels like a roller coaster.  And in two more days, I imagine it's going to feel a bit like bliss.

And then I'll be home and we'll start the countdown again.

blessed.

{these beautiful gifts from my daughters, are all the gifts i need}

Yesterday was one of those days I realize how lucky I am.  I am surrounded by so many people who love and appreciate me for who I am.  It was my birthday yesterday, two cakes over the course of two days at work, the one I posted yesterday was a three-layer chocolate cake my friend Karen made and then one of our members at the credit union brought another, a citrus-y yellow cake I'll share tonight.  Everyone at work made my day special.  A couple of our members sang  "happy birthday", including a duet by 70 somethings Mr. and Mrs. Rice.  One of our members, one of the firefighters, offered to dance for me.  I politely declined.  I love these people who surround me everyday Monday-Friday.  Somedays, like most everyone else, it is hard to get up and get out the door, but really, these people that I work with and serve are delightful.  I have had a lot of jobs, but by far this is the best one yet.

Facebook messages went on for pages, a card from my best friend, a card and delightful gift from Lisa and then on my birthday, a card from Debbie all the way from England and it arrived ON my birthday, I look forward to a new project with her in May.  Ed's card arrived in the afternoon, certain to make me cry.  Tonight the celebration continues, McKinney style at my Mom's, which means, taco salad fixings and Coronas with limes spread out  across the tables, our standby meal for when we all get together.  My sister and brother both there, along with my grandparents, and my brother's friends.  This will be a joint party as it has been pretty much off and on for the last twenty-four years, when my brother came along fifteen years and five days behind me.  I love to share birthdays with him.

In the past I knew I shared my birthday with my cousin's ex-husband and my really scary middle-school English teacher, but found out last night I also share my birthday with that amazing force called Queen Latifah, love her and all her beautiful energy and drive, her celebration and success at doing things her own way and succeeding. Have always loved her not more so when she starred in one of my favorite books ever, turned movie.

39.

the last year of my thirties begins today.

a different kind of spring fever.

{the girls picking cherries, at the old house, right before we moved}

(ages four and six)

The sun is shining today.  I am ouside with no coat.  As I walk out the door at the VA hospital on errands for work, I swear for just two seconds I can smell Spring and so look up and see that there are not only buds on the massive trees  lining the buildings, but actual baby leaves starting to burst forth.

Spring is coming.  There is something special about this time when Spring comes and the green starts pushing it's way back into the world.  It feels like hope and renewal.  It feels like a fresh start, but still, each Spring  as the weather warms and we look to spend more time outside, I realize there are things I am missing.

There used to be a time when Spring came and I was a married woman and we would make our bi-annual trips to the nurseries.  You see there was a time when we were happy and when we did things together.  My old husband at one time was a very hard worker.  He would work sixty plus hours a week at the restaurant and then come home and Sundays we would plot the outside.

We were newly married.  We didn't have kids yet.  So we would wake up to the sunshine.  The windows would be open, a breeze would blow through.  We would find ourselves starting the morning with HGTV and This Old House and then we would start plotting on graph papers, hoppimg in the car to buy plants, working side by side out in the yard pulling out scrub, putting in new soil, depositng new plants with all the hopes that they would flourish as we hoped to.  Roses, hydrangeas, butterfly bushes, succulents, berry plants. This wasn't work, this just was.  We would work outside until it would threaten to get dark, then fire up the grill.  I would run inside, rinse the muck off, start a few things and we would sit out on the porch and eat.   Then go inside to shower and crash for the evening, maybe running back out in the dusk to put a few things away, perhaps I would find him, tooling out in his shed after the day had closed.

Even right after Emily was born, she would go out with us, bobbing up and down in one of those exercise saucers as we raked leaves, sitting on a blanket chewing on a pumpkin as we mixed in fall chrysanthemums or some clearance end of summer perennials bought on the cheap.

In time all that changed.  As his back broke, our relationship did as well.  The yard and our life fell to ruin.

Today I have a new home, leaving all of that hard work and ruin behind and I would have free reign to do it all again here.  But I don't ever turn on HGTV anymore. I have no passion to work in the garden.  It's just there  is never enough time, enough money or enough energy.  I'm barely fitting it all in now, the daily requirements, figuring how to factor in the budget summer camp and karate lessons, energy being at an all time low.

These days I kill all the plants I try to nurture. There may be a few strawberry plants eeking out a life under the winter's weeds behind the garage.  The herbs I planted in pots on the porch last year suffered neglect and finally gave up.  I miss having a partner in these ways. There are things that I miss about being part of a pair.  I miss lazy mornings and my Better Homes and Gardens landscaping books.  I miss scoping out last minute end of summer perennials. I miss the satisfaction of bringing color and beauty to my surroundings. More than anything I miss late evening dinners out on the porch with someone I love, dirt still in my fingerprints.

Life marches on.

Wordless Wednesday: Please Rain Bring Something Good

japan.

I haven't written about it yet because I simply don't  know what to say.  I'm so completely overwhelmed by the devastation.  And if I think I am overwhelmed by it, than I can only imagine what the people who live there are feeling.  To think that in one moment everyone and everything you care about can be wiped away with no warning.  It's everything that you think must be fixed in this world, death, destruction, cold, hunger, grief.

And yet there is no easy fix.  I know that I for one can't help but sit here feeling helpless.  I've been glued to the television in a way that I never am and I'm not one of those stop to look at the train wreck kind of people.  It's just it looks as if it was the summer movie blockbuster, except that it's real.

I don't have anything helpful to say.  Nothing profound.  I have nothing to offer but my love and light stretched out to the mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, daughters and sons, for those gone and those left to grieve and rebuild.

I do know that I have been hugging my daughters a bit tighter lately.  Appreciating having a house, electricity, food, warmth.  Just the basics, not even all the extras, like coffees and yellow tulips and pizza night.

A reminder to us all.

home.

i have spent the last three days at home.  sick.  
it has been hard for me to be still, but these two are doing an excellent job of showing me what you do when you are home alone all day.

this moment: 3.12.11

she had been to a sleepover.   12:30 a.m. she wanted to come home. we stopped for drinks, me still half in sleep, her in her flannel kitty cat pajamas. in the morning we were lazy.  then we went to breakfast just the two of us.  we didn't talk once about her not making it through the sleepover.  we just enjoyed having this special time together. and when her sister came home later in the morning, neither one of us said a word.

a tale to tell.

There is this woman inside me, and she has a story to tell.  i always thought that the book i would write would be my story, but the truth of the matter is that i've been trying to write that story for months now and it has been too difficult a task.


But there is another, and  she won't leave me alone.  i think about her all the time and as the last week has gone by, she's infiltrated her journey into my everyday thoughts, her story building and growing.
And then suddenly you realize this is the story you've been waiting to tell.

I don't want to write a novel.  i have no interest in checking the latest books out of the library on how to write a best-seller.  i don't want to push myself against the challenge of a 30 day novel or of NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month).  right now i don't want to explore plot and character points and editing.
Right now i just need to tell this story.

So begins her journey, and mine.  a step the two of us will take together.  we have different stories, but share a kindredness. i don't know yet where along the way her story will end, but i know that it starts in a place of sorrow and grows.  and i hope that i can do right by her.  that somewhere along the way we will both find hope and healing and most importantly of all, our voices.

two weeks.

72 days down.  14 to go. 

Wordless Wednesday: Currently Reading & Loving

Who Am I?

{i think we should write these all the time, not just in elementary school}

I am a sister and friend.  My Mom would call me a daughter, but my aunts and uncles would call me a neice.  To my sister I'm a older sister, but in school I'm a student.  I am a grandaughter and a great-grandaughter.  Also I am the cousin of twelve other cousins.  I am very serious about my musician part in life.

My friends would tell me I am funny and friendly.  My Mom would say I'm pretty and sometimes worrisome.  My teacher would say I'm smart.  To me I'm a singer and a animal-holic.  My dad would say I'm creative.

Here are things I like.  I love burgers and books.  Some people know my favrite colors lime green and hot pink.  I like playing outside and flowers.  In winter I like sledding but in summer I like to swim. I like skirts all kinds of them.  I like to do make up and hair.  I love snow.  I like cool stickers and dill pickles.

--by Emily Istvan, the last stages of age nine.

**********     **********     **********     **********     **********     **********

I am a sister and a friend.  My mother would call me a daughter who is almost a clone.  My aunts and uncles would call me a niece.  To my sister and brother I am an older sister.  I am an aunt lost in translation.  I was and would even now be a poor student.  I used to be a wife.  I am not any longer.  I may call myself that again, but that is hard to realize.  I am a grandaughter and for a period of time a great-grandaughter.  I live in the place of my great-grandparents.  I am the cousin of seven, two of my aunts have kitties instead.  I am very serious about the photography part of my life.

My friends would tell me I am strong and a mindful mother.  My mother would say I am courageous and sometimes prone to worry.  My boss would say I am friendly and persuasive, he would say I draw people in.  My boyfriend would tell me I am the love of his life.  To me I'm a writer and a mother.  Also, I think I'm pretty empathetic.  My Dad would say I am impatient and quick to fly off the handle.

Here are some things I like.  I love pasta and a nice glass of wine.  I love getting lost in a really good book.  Some people know my favorite colors are blue and green, the colors of the earth.  I like being outside.  I love trees, but kill flowers.  In winter I like staying inside wrapped up in blankets with hot tea and chocolate chip cookies.  In summer I like to be among the trees.  I like skirts and prefer tank tops. I wear little to no makeup and it requires a lot of time to do my hair.  I like art and really sweet but sappy independent movies.  I love olives, I always have.

--by Jennifer Istvan, ten days short of turning 39.

Just Now: 3.6.11

current time: 7:58 a.m, in bed listening to the girls up already, playing Scrabble in the next room.


in my mug: did you think it would be a hot cuppa tea?  well, you are right, although there is an emptly glass of Chardonnay on the bookshelf leftover from last night.


in my belly: roasted vegetables and crusty bread from last nght, dinner for one.


in my ears: "Amber" by 311, and the sound of rain on the rooftop, ushering in Spring (i hope).


on the nightstand: ipod, a dollar bill, a scholastic book order, and a fly, guess spring is coming.


on the editor: a new blog header i've been working on, an  upcoming project perhaps i will see through


last watched: this movie, a random Itunes rental, but I fell in love with it.


feeling good about: 18 days until i hop a plane to Colorado.


feeling bummed about: my grandmother, suffering some medical troubles


last thing that made me laugh: listening to one of my grandmother's stories in her living room in the afternoon.


and think: someone said last night regarding the health care issue "the problem is you see it as a right, i see it as a privilege", is that the true nature of the problem?

singing loudly and badly

i have no photos for this post.
be thankful.
a lot of times i lament on being alone.
sometimes it's not such a bad thing.
right now i am sitting in a hot bath bookmarking every blog i've ever been interested in on my laptop.
i'm drinking a mocha frappuccino.
and i'm singing an old song very loudly and badly, with no backup music.
and no one is here to raise an eyebrow.
did i mention i had a bag of potato chips for dinner?
when you are home alone, no one cares how quirky you are.
and the kids aren't home for another hour.

Wordless Wednesday: 52 Weeks of Self

a few words written here

those moments

{from my walk this weekend, no snow and some green shoots}

This year I vowed to get  a photographic education.  I was not satisfied with the quality of the non-credit photo classes here locally (Photography In Natural Light at 6:00 pm in winter?), so I picked up some photography books that caught my eye and showed potential to  give me those technical bits and pieces I seem to be lacking.  When we start talking about formats, and pixel sizes etc, etc, etc my mind gets a bit befuddled.

Sometimes I look at my photos and I wonder why am I taking these? What purpose comes from me having this photo on file along with the hundreds upon hundreds of others.  Then I remember what I set out to do in the beginning of this year.  I want to learn and grow artistically, but really my main purpose is to document this life.

{the day we said forget everything else and painted all afternoon}

I find it a wonderful thing that one day my children will look back and they will have a visual reminder of the  random things that lie beyond  what their memories can carry.  Memories they can peruse and remember fondly.  I like having documentation that there are simple things in this life that make me happy, like water droplets clinging to a leaf after a refreshing rain, or the first sign of a daffodil peeking out promising spring.

I think I need to remind myself that photography must be like this blog here.  I don't blog for anyone else but myself.  It's nice that there are people who stop by interested in my journey, but in the end, it's B.W.O. like on the sidebar here, Blogging Without Obligation.  As much as I have hopes and dreams that maybe someday I could do something a little more with my photography, I think perhaps I need P.W.O.  Photographing Without Obligation.

{my brother on Christmas evening, before I sat on him and disrupted his sleep}

It wasn't the  proficiency of the masters that made me want to pick up a camera.  It was the people here, here, here and here, that first started the yearning.   It was the bloggers that first opened my eyes to what a photo can mean and they were doing that with moments in everyday life.  That is what drives me to pick up the camera.

{my kitchen windowsill Thanksgiving morning}

There are two things that have stirred my photographic ambitions recently and they have nothing to do with technical prowess.  The first is the book Visual Poetry by Chris Orwig and I am eating this book alive.  The second is the Slice of Life project which I have as of today officially joined for April.  Both of these things reminded me why I picked up a camera in the first place.  Both of these make me feel I know that picking up the camera is the same as when I sit down here to write.  It is to grab the everyday.  Those everyday moments that are barely here before time pulls them away so fast.

{a moment, Karelyn reading to Annabelle}

I am going to read the books and continue to learn.  I am quite far from being a Photoshop queen, but I know that photography came to me with a purpose just as  writing this blog has.  It is a reminder to stop and reflect and see the goodness that surrounds me.  To have a record that this was the way life was, and this is the way it is unfolding.   On the road to finding peace and acceptance (my word this year) I am glad I have a way of training my mind to stop racing ahead and just accept what is.  To know that you don't need something spectacular, that everyday life itself is exquisite.