Author Archives: Kami

A Thousand Different Colors in One

Posted on July 31, 2013 by Kami
Baja California Desert in the Cataviña region,...

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Once in a while the incessant heat of the desert southwest surprises me. Those incredible dust storms that approach like something out of an apocalyptic movie! Skies that sometimes open up as if Niagara Falls has been rerouted directly overhead! Lightening that flashes then becomes the sound of the earth cracking open and rolling in an ominous wave of booming vibrations.

And there’s sometimes a rare day of soft misty rain that lightens the air and sets the scent of creosote wafting about. Not at all desert-like in its gentleness.

You see, the desert seems made of extremes. Incredibly hot in the daytime, even in the winter, and chill you to the bone coldness at night. Then Summer sends its death rays beating down, threatening any and all. Even summer nights press in and slow bake a person to a parched muddled mess.

20130731-154317.jpg

Desert Sage blooming like gang-busters.

Just lately, in the past day or two, and for a week or more, the desert sends surprise gifts to those who are paying attention. Venturing down almost any road you’ll see bursts of lavender and purple, nearly iridescent and glowing with saturated color. Desert Sage has popped and fills a bush to overflowing masses of tiny buds, almost completely obscuring the green bush it grows from.

Other flowers are blooming, just not in the shouting, hog the limelight way that the sage is doing. The purples act like highlighter on a page, pointing out the good stuff, the memorable, the positive.

Every plant sighs out a breath of beauty, a whisper of hope, a mantra for life.

Seeing such abundance amidst the oppressive center of summer provides an emotional cooling. Amazing what a bit of color can do for the soul.

What colors light up your day? Do you even pay attention to the colors around you? Or is your life all black and white and gray? The unique narrator in Markus Zusak’s YA novel The Book Thief sees life in colors beyond imagining. (Read it and thank me later!)

“People observe the colors of a day only at its beginnings and ends, but to me it’s quite clear

that a day merges through a multitude of shades and intonations with each passing moment.

A single hour can consist of thousands of different colors. Waxy yellows, cloud-spot blues.

Murky darkness. In my line of work, I make it a point to notice them.”— Markus Zusak

Desert Sage Bloom

Desert Sage Bloom (Photo credit: lowjumpingfrog)

I think I need to open my eyes more often to the color and variety of everything around me. It’s easy not to notice. It takes some conscious thought to pay attention and see the extraordinary in the everydayness around us.

“Every hour can consist of a thousand different colors” he says. I’m not sure I could count that many in one hour. Perhaps I, too, need to make it a point to notice them.

The purple will serve as my reminder this week, to open my eyes and really see.

Categories: Nature, Outdoors | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

The Yin and the Yang

Posted on July 30, 2013 by Kami

It’s Gratituesday! Today I find my heart filled with gratitude for a sweet companion. I often wonder at his patience with me. I marvel at his resilience when I’m criticizing, nitpicking or complaining. I’m amazed at his willingness to stick around.

Seesaw

Seesaw (Photo credit: nzgabriel)

At first we were both equally antisocial, avoiding double dates, making friends, making connections. But over the years, very slowly, I’ve picked away at my shell of shyness and found that I need and want people in my life beyond family. Friends have become part of who I am. And he has occasionally, and carefully, waded into a few social puddles with me.

I tend to seek the limelight and he will be mortified that I wrote about him here, so publicly. I try to respect his privacy while still writing, honestly about my life and that is why I refer to him as MSH, My Sweet Husband.

The Joy of Flying

The Joy of Flying (Photo credit: caribb)

Just as he said he would when we were dating, he has traveled far and often for work and I’ve been left to tend to hearth and children. Not quite as often we have followed him across the country, crisscrossing it, then settling, sort of, here in the heart and heat of the desert.

I joke that all his traveling is what has kept us together. It sounds funny, but it’s been the reality. And, I’m afraid that cuts both ways. for the two of us. And yet, that old missive that “absence makes the heart grow fonder” is as true as any fact you can hold and touch and taste.

He’s kind of my opposite, which is probably a good thing, but doesn’t always feel like it is. His willingness to take chances probably balances out my complete and total lack of desire to risk much of anything. We’re still working on this one. And many other things.

The idea of Yin and Yang, seems to describe our relationship better than almost anything I’ve ever run across.

“two complementary principles of Chinese philosophy: Yin is negative, dark, and 

feminine; Yang is positive, bright, and masculine. Their interaction is thought to

 maintain the harmony of the universe and to influence everything within it.”

The harmony of our universe has been a constant flux of give and take, up and down, sorrow and joy. It hasn’t always been fifty-fifty. But we have become an interesting balance of and with each other.

The man I married wasn’t interested in things that got you dirty, like camping, or the outdoors. But that changed as I embraced that part of my life and pulled him into it. He became the avid camper, the rock climber, the rappeller, while I became afraid of heights and decided I’d prefer a cabin to a tent. His ideal home would be in the wilderness and mine, somewhere between wilderness and civilization.

Yin and yang blue

He has always looked forward to the future, and I have always been firmly settled in today.

How we’ve managed to stay together so long is more a testament of what weathering a storm or two or three will do to a relationship than any other thing we’ve consciously done. I’m grateful he hasn’t given up on me. And I’m glad I haven’t given up on him.  We are a pair, oddly matched, but strangely well matched.

We do have some things in common.

We share a love of music. We share a passion for knowledge and learning. We love to dance. We share a love of our children. We share similar spiritual values.

We share a love I didn’t think was possible. In that I am more blessed than I deserve.

As Robert Browning wrote, I repeat to MSH, my love, my sweet companion:

“Grow old along with me, the best is yet to be.”

Thank you MSH, for the ride so far!

Categories: Family, Gratitude, Gratituesday, Love, Relationships | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Hot Pink Satin Heels

Posted on July 29, 2013 by Kami

My mother wore hot pink satin heels. I kid you not.

That image has been in my mind the past few days and won’t go away. So I’ll give it my full attention and then set it free.

Why would Mom wear hot pink satin heels? Because the shoes matched the hot pink satin dress she wore. And that matched Dad’s hot pink tie and cummerbund.

Hot Pink Heels

The two of them danced in a performance group when I was young.

The hot pink outfit was my favorite. The waist of that dress cinched in tight to Mom’s tiny tummy and then flared out in a wide swoop of flowing fabric when she twirled. There was some crinoline or tulle underneath to keep it fluffed and full when she wasn’t spinning.

Oh how I loved it when they got dressed up and ready to go out dancing. Seems like Dad wore cuff links and smelled like Old Spice. He tried not to smile, but it crept onto his face anyway. Mom clipped on round hot pink earrings as the perfect touch to her bouffant flip. The soft silky smoothness of the pink satin felt decadent and mysterious, luscious and exciting. They both glowed with something besides the reflection of the nearly fluorescent color. Joy? Fun? Anticipation? Relief at getting away from us kids? A night out alone?

Adelaide ballroom dancing

Hearing the swish of her skirt and seeing the light in their eyes brought a sense of wonder and contentment with it. Why? I had no idea then. Now I know that those shared times, getting dressed up and going out together, were part of what got them through the tough days and often long nights of parenting and responsibility. Those brief moments of fun built a bridge over the difficulties of life.

Some days, when Mom was busy elsewhere in the house, I snuck into the closet and just let my hand run along the fabric as if I were petting a rare animal. I don’t remember ever trying on the shoes, although I can’t believe I didn’t. Wouldn’t you?

Somewhere, surely, there’s a photo or some 8mm film of the two of them dressed up and dancing. I’m making a mental note, and a written note, to see if I can find such sweet evidence of their younger dancing years together.

I learned early on to idolize, fantasize and dream of dancing as the most romantic of adventures. Little wonder that years later dancing swept me off my feet and into a whirling, silly, illogical relationship that became MSH.

Dad and Mom later joined a square dancing group. I’m sure they had every bit as much fun do-si-doeing and as they did waltzing.  But for me, nothing else carried the mystique of their hot pink satin nights.

Categories: Family, Memory Lane, Relationships | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

More Than Comfort, It’s Comfortable

Posted on July 28, 2013 by Kami
Chocolate Brownie Sundae

Chocolate Brownie Sundae – close but not quite what I saw on Facebook.(Photo credit: su-lin)

Have you ever eaten one of those brownie things with a layer of melted marshmallow and a layer of chocolate frosting? Someone posted a photo of something like that on Facebook and I can’t seem to get it out of my head. Like having a song stuck in there playing over and over and over, you just want it to go away.

It brings to mind other delectable ridiculous things I’ve eaten over the years.

I worked at a print shop/weekly newspaper a hundred years ago and one of the guys who ran the big machine that printed everything, oh yeah, a printer… (I can see I need to write a completely different post just on this one job I had once. ) Anyway, this guy used to drop into a local bakery and bring us all back these amazing things called crocodile jaws. It’s a long triangle-shaped donut, sliced open,  filled with jelly and whipped cream and drizzled with chocolate icing on top. Haven’t seen anything like it since I stopped working there. I didn’t ever get the name of the bakery either. What was I thinking!

Lemon Merengue Pie A Go Go

Lemon Merengue Pie (Photo credit: plushoff)

I’m thinking pie. Lemon merengue. Tart, puckery smoothness laying below a blanket of white sticky air, resting gently on a crusted bed. My mouth is watering already.

School lunch ladies were masters at Apple Crisp! Oh. My. Heavenliness!  Apples sliced thin and then encased with cinnamon and sugar and a bit of butter and maybe some nutmeg, then this crunchy topping o’ perfection, followed by a dollop of whipped cream lightly sweetened. I can still, almost, taste that favorite of lunch room miracles.

Creme brûlée anyone? Nothing else in the world is like that carmelized sugar crust on the top of the smoothest creamiest dessert known to man.

Except there were these Olympic cremes Mom used to make from carmelized sugar and condensed milk. Like a caramel, but not chewy, crisp but not crunchy. Melts in your mouth but with bits of sugary grains to let your tongue linger over.

Chocolate Scotcheroos

Chocolate Scotcheroos (Photo credit: capn madd matt)

Scotcheroos. If you haven’t had one of these I pity you. It’s Rice Crispy treats on steroids with chocolate. Booyah! Seriously puts everything else I’ve discussed to shame.

Italian crème cake? Carrot Cake? Strawberry shortcake? Red velvet cupcakes? Angel food cake? Is it possible to go wrong with anything that has cake in the name? I think not.

These are just a few of the wonders my tongue has tasted, the glories mine eyes have seen. Ah, yes, it’s been a delicious, occasionally decadent life at times. Mmm.

The best I have sitting around here? A reduced-fat chocolate ice-cream bar.

I think not.

I’m feeling too lazy to bake anything, or stir anything or go anywhere, so I’m just going to dream of past delights and comfort myself with memories of the loveliness that has passed my lips.

Categories: Food | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

My Closest Friend is…Dying

Posted on July 26, 2013 by Kami

I saw this Daily Post prompt today and thought this would be good for me to write about. I thought I might simply write something but not really post it. It would be cathartic, healing, helpful, insightful. Writing on this topic could lead to some much-needed answers.

I’ve written about her and our friendship before, but that’s been a while. It’s time to think things through again.

Vault Door

Vault Door  (Photo credit: mmahaffie)

Crap.

I sit here blank and empty.

Now I see I have a bunch of steel walls of denial and protection shielding me from facing this reality.

Oh, we talk about it. She and I. What her funeral will consist of, who will speak, what music to have, even what food to serve at the luncheon afterwards.  We’ve talked about her headstone, a bench for visitors. We’ve talked about how she doesn’t want to die in a hospital, but at home. We’ve talked about the raw deal this is. We’ve talked about the good stuff that’s happened in spite of such misery. We’ve talked about the constant pain, the nausea, the chemofuzzybrain. We’ve talked and talked and talked.

Not sure there’s a topic we haven’t touched on.

We’ve talked about our lives. Lots of that stuff. That’s what makes friends, talking about real things, worries, bad choices, craziness, kids, husbands, fun times. It’s a pretty even give and take, too. You’d think it wouldn’t be. You’d think it’d be me listening to her and her concerns. But no. She’s quite the listener. And she gets it. She gets my odd life, she commiserates with my whiny ways. She asks how I’m doing and then she cares and remembers. It isn’t all about her. How’s that for an amazing friend?

There are days I do a bunch of the listening, but we’re pretty evenly matched on talking and listening.

She’s got my back. And I’ve got hers.

That’s friendship. Someone you can count on who gets you.

It stinks big time that I’ve finally got this best friend ever in the history of the world after a zillion years and now she’s going to go away.  It’s not like she’s moving across the country and we can call every day. It’s not like she’s moving up north for more reasonable weather and we can still text back and forth. Crap. No. It’s not like that at all.

As far as I know there’s no social media, telegraph, phone, wireless connection, garage code or front door that I can knock on to get in touch with her once she’s gone.

three drinks from sonic

(Photo credit: Rakka)

Then what?

I have no idea.

I don’t even want to go there, think that far ahead, or be that person.

I’m just going to stay in denial. Who says I can’t. No one, that’s who. I can pretend as long as I want that our friendship will last forever, that’s she’s always going to be there.

I’m going to pretend that we’ll keep getting diet cherry Cokes at Sonic for the rest of our lives, until we’re dragging our great-grandkids along for happy hour slushies and corn dogs.

You would, too.

Believe me. With a best friend like I have you would be in denial, too.

Categories: Death, Relationships | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

The Seventh Sense

Posted on July 24, 2013 by Kami

I watched “The Jetsons” on a black and white television when I was growing up. Sure, there was color TV by then but we stuck with the black and white version for a while. All that amazing automated stuff seemed like science fiction and fantasy and silliness.

Today I lived a little piece of the Jetsons. I video chatted with my Mom through Facebook. She was with one of my sisters and my technosmart “little” brother who set it up for us. A few easy steps and bam, there was Mom live and in real-time on my computer screen.

Talking with her, seeing her search for words but NOT get frustrated about it, did me a world of good. She has the same smile and the same ability to laugh at herself and the situation. Suddenly everything was okay in the world again. Mom is still Mom, just needing to “learn some new tricks,” as Dad calls it.

Ah, how could I not be an optimistic person with such great parents. They have rolled with the punches so many times in life and yet they smile, they move forward, they keep on keeping on.

The five senses help us move through everyday life. The sixth sense, I don’t know much about. The seventh sense, a sense of humor, is critical to making it through life without becoming bitter and hardened.

Life is rarely all or nothing in the happiness or sadness area. There’s usually some surprising bits of goodness in the most difficult of situations. And happiness is often gilded with a tinge of blue, some loss or hurt or regret.

“Don’t wish me happiness

I don’t expect to be happy all the time…

It’s gotten beyond that somehow.

Wish me courage and strength and a sense of humor.

I will need them all.” — Anne Morrow Lindbergh

This is as real as I know.

Maintaining that sense of humor is often all that gets me through a tough stretch. I can see now that I got that from my Mom.

Categories: Family, Mental Health, Relationships | Tags: , , , , , | 1 Comment

Awash in a Torrent

Posted on July 23, 2013 by Kami

It’s Gratituesday! Today gratitude washes over me when I consider my children. All four of them were in town to celebrate at the wedding reception this past weekend. A whole lifetime of sweet memories, struggles, laughs, sorrows, silliness, sadness, good times and the insanity of family life flooded over me in wave after wave of remembering.

waterfall

(Photo credit: Sean MacEntee)

When the house emptied out after a weekend of overflowing joy I recognized more than ever what a blessing each of them have been.

Let’s be honest, with parenting, it’s sink or swim. So you flail your arms about, kick your legs, gasp for breath every chance you get and eventually you have something that moves your through the water of parenthood. It wasn’t all roses. It’s a ton of hard work and sleepless nights, worry and tears.

But, there is a flip side.

rain dancing

(Photo credit: amboo who?)

We had some great times that surely balanced out the challenges. Swings, and slides, sandpiles and diving boards. Cooking and organizing, camping, rock climbing, hiking. Summer crafts and  road trips, summer library challenges. Sidewalk chalk, sleepovers, baking. Hide and seek, shooting baskets, building blanket forts, picnics, parks and playgrounds. Camping in the rain, puddle jumping, dancing in the rain. Skiing, snowboarding, sledding, snow walks and snowmen. Car rides to lessons, activities, games, practices, friends houses, camps. Let’s not forget story time and bath time, movies and barbies, hot wheels and ninetendo, legos, dress up clothes, sliding banisters, cats and parakeets, tire swings, singing, exploring. And so much more!

From that first dark-haired baby boy that I was clueless about, to the golden-blond independent caboose baby, I’ve learned how to be a real person from all four of them. They’ve shaped who I am today.

And them? Wow!!!  In spite of all the parental goofs, gaffs, trial and error and outright mistakes, they’ve become wonderful, kind, thoughtful, hardworking beautiful adults that I’m happy to treat as equals, friends and confidants.

Monsoon

(Photo credit: lokenrc)

This weekend felt like much more than a celebration of a marriage. It felt like a commemoration of life. The monsoon downpour of rain we had as we sent the blissfully wedding couple off into their happily ever after was a grand metaphor of the blessings of my life showering down on me.

Awash in blessings beyond anything I deserve, here’s a toast to the four of you! Thank you J, J, L and L. Being your Mom is an honor and the greatest joy of my life!

Categories: Family, Gratitude, Gratituesday | Tags: , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

It Depends

Posted on July 21, 2013 by Kami

“How many slams in an old screen door? Depends how loud you shut it.

How many slices in a bread? Depends how thin you cut it.

How much good inside a day? Depends how good you live ’em.

How much love inside a friend? Depends how much you give ’em.”

–Shel Silverstein

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Categories: Family, Gratitude, Joy, Love | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

Five Ways to Drive Yourself Bonkers

Posted on July 20, 2013 by Kami

A delayed evening flight is a bad excuse for imbibing in caffeinated beverages. Don’t do it. As soon as you do, the flight will miraculously depart and arrive on schedule. And you? You’ll still be wide awake at 3:45 in the morning writing drivel on the computer when you should be dreaming of a deserted island with a hammock and unlimited iced lemonades.

A Hammock on a tropical beach.

The Perfect Dream Hammock on a tropical beach. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I’m sure myriad other ways exist for driving yourself bonkers. But this list seems pertinent to my week as I prepare for a wedding reception for my daughter who got married last week. Remember last week? It feels like months ago.

If you have a big event coming up maybe you can learn from my short list.

Five Ways to Drive Yourself Bonkers:

  1. Worry about things you have no control over.
  2. Assume you can do everything yourself and don’t ask for help, even when help is offered.
  3. Wear something brand new to an important event without having sat down, stood up, walked around in and gotten in and out of a car while wearing it.
  4. Try to find something interesting to watch on broadcast television after 10 p.m.
  5. Put off important details until the last-minute. (See number 4 above)

That felt a little negative and sarcastic. (Ya think?) Let’s try a different tack:

Five Ways to Recover from Your Own Mistakes

  1. Pretend that you planned for things to work out the way they did.
  2. Learn to delegate and to graciously accept help.
  3. Take a power nap and then eat some chocolate.
  4. Read a great book while sipping a cool beverage and ignoring your texts, tweets, reminders and calls.
  5. Fall asleep while reading (see 4 above) and stay that way as long as possible.

Not very realistic, for me anyway. Maybe I should fling caution to the wind (sorry, a cliché) and go all out:

Five Things I Would Do Differently Next Time I’m in Charge of Something Humongous.

  1. Rob a bank and hire out all the work. Every. Last. Detail.
  2. Start a meticulous daily to-do list months in advance and don’t allow myself access to any media or chocolate until the days’ tasks are done.
  3. Book a cruise to anywhere for the week of that event.
  4. Just say no? (See how effective that was…I can’t even write a sentence that sounds declarative and forceful.)
  5. Develop amnesia.

Okay, Okay, I can do this. Really, truly. Seriously. One more try for the Gipper. (What does that mean anyway? Remind me to look it up.)

Five Brilliant Insights That Will Save You Heartache and Improve Your Life and Save Your Sanity:

  1. Understand that you’re human and things aren’t going to turn out perfectly.
  2. Accept that life happens and that detours, side trips, distractions and worries are part of the process.
  3. Someday you’ll be able to look back on this and laugh. Someday in the far, far future.
  4. Remember the Beanie Baby. (Not sure if that really applies, but it just came to mind, it must mean something.)
  5. Love these people in your life, even when it gets bonkers.
Categories: Humor, Mental Health | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

When Life Gives You Snails, Make Escargot

Posted on July 19, 2013 by Kami

Day seven of Mom’s new adventure. She’s working with several different kinds of rehabilitation therapists about four hours a day and then resting from the hard work of it all. She can walk with assistance. She’s speaking better everyday. Remembering names is sometimes a bit tricky for her. She has some right side vision neglect that they are working on. She still has her sense of humor and expresses gratitude and love to everyone who visits or helps her out in any way.

&&&&&

We lived in the Northwest for a few years once upon a time. Humid and cool, opulent with growing things. We picked wild blackberries, rock climbed, camped, collected shells in the too cold water below the Tacoma Narrows bridge.

Winters were mild, with a couple of rare days of snow. Summers were cool and cloudy.

English: Snail Perfect weather for snails to c...

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Perfect conditions for snails.

Yes, snails.

Slimy, slow-moving, bulbous shelled creatures of shadow and night.

They left trails of slime across the screens and sidewalks. And the destruction they left in a flower bed aggravated me to no end.

I tried a few remedies. Beer in a bowl, useless. Slug and snail bait, laughable. Salt, only if applied directly and mercilessly. I finally gave up planting flowers when I realized how addictive they seemed to snails.

I imagined the little slime balls after a night of debauchery in the flower beds, drunk on the nectar of blossoms and stems, fuzzy headed with the liquor of leaves and roots. I chose to stop enabling their habit and consequently stopped planting the hopeful pops of color in my garden.

That would teach them a lesson or two.

But no, it didn’t. They simply slimed the screens and sidewalks with more vehemence in search of their drug of choice. Finding no flowers to wreak havoc on, they slimed my yard more and more.

Why am I bringing this up now? (Besides the fact that the weatherman keeps taunting us with a 20% chance of rain as if a deluge is likely any moment.)

Those slimy snails remind me of negative things; sadness, anger, hopelessness, frustration, meanness, selfishness.

Those emotions seem to leave a wake of slimy yuck behind them. I feel the aftereffects of aggravation long after the source of the emotion dissipates. Sadness lingers. Meanness replays itself over and over in a mental movie of hurt. And selfishness hovers like a skunk that passed by hours ago.

The residual effects of negative emotions stick like slime.

Negativity and pessimism act like addictive substances. One angry thought invites another until a whole room of anger buzzes and jabs. Anything in its wake takes a hit and comes up fighting. Slime trails wander everywhere.

Gross.

The cure?

French cooked snails

French cooked snails (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I don’t know. (We don’t get many snails here in the desert.)

Sunlight, maybe?

Heat, perhaps.

Escargot tastes delectable if done right. Saute’ in butter, add a bit of garlic, a pinch of fresh parsley. Mmmm. Some crusty french bread on the side.

Ah yes, there’s the ticket.

Yummy.

That’s no answer. I realize that.

Or is it? Try this one on for size:

When life gives you snails, make escargot. 

Laughter often sparks more laughter. I’m pretty sure that hope can be contagious. Smiles seem transmittable. Kindness often avalanches into more kindness. Determination to succeed, to overcome, to soldier forward feels healthier and happier.

Can I choose positive emotions over negative? Sure. Is it an easy choice? For some, yes. For others, not necessarily.

In the face of hardship, illness, unkindness, hurt, abuse, loss, suffering or setbacks, choosing the plus side takes audacity. It requires mettle to move forward, keep trying, be kind anyway, turn the other cheek, forgive, smile or to look at the alternate path as a new adventure.

Yes, I know. Not too many people like the idea of eating snails, no matter how wonderful a delicacy. But, you never know until you try if you’re gonna like ’em or not. Or maybe you don’t mind the slime trails and flower bed destruction. More power to you for being so resilient and easy-going.

Either way, life is full of surprises good and bad. How we weather those surprises, as gifts or troubles, makes all the difference.

Categories: Gardening, Nature, Outdoors, Wondering | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

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