Tuesday, January 7, 2014

Only short Decembers

It wasn't so long ago and it seems to have passed out of existence without thought or emotion but recently I heard Counting Crows' "Long December" and it brought with it memories of winters past when the days seemed unending and devoid of everything but lack. 

I wonder if I'm saying these things in a manner understandable, because it seems profound to me, how quickly go by the joyful days now. Now that there isn't pining over lost and forsaken loves, spiritual and emotional derision, and the wretched feeling as though the world had moved on and gotten happy without me, while I remained in a loop of "Long December" and Patty Griffin's "Icicles" ("a lot of oysters but no pearls."... "way more darkness than light"). Now I find myself, suddenly, though almost softly, in the world of the opposite. And it demands notice. Glorious day has broken, and I swim in a sea of pearls.

And for these things, I am grateful. And though I know there will be inevitably be both darkness and oysters in my future, I am pleased and humbled by the goodness I hold in my timid, shivering hands.

Thursday, September 20, 2012


There was a while in my life where I didn't feel like God was in the details. Like maybe God was walking and I was walking and we were parallel but never touching. Like there were dreams and wishes and hopes and fears that I never voiced and God never heard because we were always just walking without touching. Like there was a dividing line between us and that line was my fault but still God walked with me. rather uninvolved. but still there nonetheless. And that time lasted for a long long while. Until now. Now I am in this sweet spot of blessing where even the air feels holy. Have you ever felt the air feel holy? Like it's been baptized before it touches your lips. Like the whole world for these precious moments is charged with the Spirit of God. and God has reached across and broken the line. and God is holding my hand.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Rev. Jimmy's gift...

"What I believe is that (marriage equality) is a movement of God in history toward community, justice and freedom, and equality, toward the wholeness of the human person and the community, and I don't believe it can be resisted. I don't think even the Church can resist it. ...I do believe that this movement is of God and God will prevail." Thank you, Rev. Jimmy Creech- Author of Adam's Gift.

I attended a lecture today given by Rev. Jimmy Creech. It was moving and affirming and I thought I might share that above quote here because it made me feel hopeful. While I'm not a United Methodist, I think this speaks to more than Methodism and more than just the church's stance on this issue.

Thursday, July 14, 2011

The Civil Wars

Nice way to finish off the day...
The Civil Wars performed a short 3-song set at Good Records in Dallas on Wednesday afternoon.

I hope you enjoy as much as I did.

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

French Braids

I try not to think about the things that haven't happened for me, the way they have for others. But, lately I've been feeling nostalgic. Weird. I know.

Yesterday I stopped at a crosswalk where two little girls were crossing with their dad, and one of the girls had her hair in a kind of sideways french braid, kind of diagonal. It was loose and rogue hairs had escaped during furious play. But it was mostly intact. And it made me think of how long she had to sit still that morning as her mother threaded and and braided her hair. And that made me think of the times my sister would herringbone braid my hair, or roll it in pink sponge rollers before bedtime. Family. Swim meets and little league and chasing fireflies in the front yard. Safe schools and safe neighborhoods and walking in Poland Woods through the blue belles. My blue two-wheeler with the banana seat. I thought about how old my siblings were when they had their first children. And how most of them were long-since parents by the time they were my age. They had long been french-braiding the hair of little towheaded girls.

My life is different. I have time to myself and I get to choose my schedule and I don't have to worry about how I'm going to take care of anybody else but me (and Libby). It's wonderful, and it's also hard sometimes.

I babysit a little girl, she's precious and about to turn two. Her mother is younger than I am. Sometimes I feel old and young all at once. I relate to the mom like I'm younger than her, like we're not even or on the same playing field. It's strange. Because we could be equals. She's only a few months my junior. Sometimes I feel old and young all at once. I know I said that already, but it was worth saying again.

I feel like there was a major thoroughfare running straight through the middle of town, and well, I wandered off through a path in the wood. Nearly everyone else was clamoring down the main road and getting married and having families. I'm still wheedling through the woods. It's not bad. It's quiet and I can hear myself think and I can read books and write and study and do whatever I want to. It's not an unequal path, for its goodness and it is at least as enjoyable at times as the thoroughfare.

I should really get to some point. But I think we smile at those on the other road - we listen to their stories of diaper rashes and first steps and children in the front yard, of first houses and vacations where families play at the beach. I listen to all these and other stories and I have no idea what that's like. Sometimes I feel like an alien in a married universe. ...and sometimes I take naps just because I want to... in the middle of the day... on a weekend. When's the last time you did that, moms? I try to remember that my life is no less full, despite the fact it has considerably less drama.

And I think about the day I'll french braid my own child's hair... or at least a that of a niece or a friend's daughter. I should get practicing. I'm all thumbs when it comes to braiding other people's hair.

Thanks sis, for the braids and the curlers and the times spent that make me winsome for times gone by, and times yet to come.

Monday, June 27, 2011

a lateral move

So about 5 weeks ago, I came home from work to a notice on my door that the apartment complex was being torn down and I and all my neighbors had a little less than 2 months to vacate.

I chose to follow the managements' suggestion and keep my lease with them and for all intents and purposes, merely transfer up the road to a sister property. In the end it was the least expensive option and also required the least amount of time looking for another apartment (an activity I loathe beyond belief).

As you can see, I've been packing...

I'm okay with the move. I've gotten over the initial worry over where to live and how much it's going to cost to move and get set up in a new place. The movers come Friday, and I will be the happy renter of a different apartment, owned by the same management company, with exactly the same square footage as my last place, for exactly the same price, with an only slightly different floor plan. Oh, and it's a half mile (at most) from my current home.

I remain hopeful that the new place will offer the same critter-free luxury as my current abode, as I'm still (unsuccessfully) trying to block out memories of the Casa Villa days.

I don't recommend making 4 apartment moves in 4 years, although it does keep the clutter to a minimum. Here's hoping at the end of my six-month lease, I am utterly compelled to stay and I find that I've never loved an apartment complex more. ...or that I'm at least moderately satisfied. ;)

I want a house.

I want to live in one place for longer than 2 years.

I want to NOT have to box up everything I own again and again and again.

but, I survive a vagabond for the time being... and play the Lotto.... and hope.


What I'm reading:

The Warlock: The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel (Book 5)
Michael Scott