Looking over my Shoulder

It's the very last day of the year....

Time has flown while we were busy, working eating sleeping, driving, packing and unpacking, visiting..living. Moving from one time zone to another, between different countries..across borders. Another year with sorrow, another of with joy. New ones to love. Letters written, parcels mailed and received. Many air miles, and many many road miles. Rain and snow, floods and storms. Dry deserts and cacti, scorpions and rattlesnakes. Stones gathered. The crash of the ocean and beach sand between our toes. Paths walked, mountains climbed..views that enthralled us. New shoes. Sunsets and sunrises, moonshine and roses, rainbows through our tears, and music. Fresh linen, crumpled sheets, gallons of coffee and some green tea. Fallen ice cubes. New pot plants and old planters, pine cones and other 'never before seen' seeds. Old smiles, new faces, different sights, old job, new places. New sounds different voices, the same words. Hello's and more goodbye's. Wet cheeks, another flight. Fresh breezes. Fall. New camera, old frame, strokes with a paintbrush and a new picture. Old wall. Dry leaves and the smell of woodsmoke. Fog and brilliant sunshine, frosty mornings, crunchy walks and icy windscreens. Bouncy dogs, wet noses wagging tails and smiley mouths, same enthusiasm different fur. Gentle arms, long hugs, different familiar comfort. New steps old paths, ancient ways renewed. Strong shoulders.

Simple, complicated, wonderful life.

Family Rock band

My nephews

got the video game Guitar Hero for Christmas. A game which encourages family unity

and allows freedom of expression,

and teaches teamwork without fear of recrimination. (hehe)

The game actually gives individual scoring and words of 'encouragement' as you go...such as:

'messy performance' and.. 'show cancelled' ..but anyhow, we managed to sing and scream with laughter at the same time.

....this rock star wannabee stole the show.

I must say it was a hilarious evening....

A Day of Ordinary Miracles

Today...I wish you a day of ordinary miracles-

A fresh pot of coffee you didn't have to make yourself.

An unexpected phone call from an old friend.

Green stoplights on your way to work or shop.

I wish you a day of little things to rejoice in...

The fastest line at the grocery store...

A good sing along song on the radio.


Your keys right where you look..the first time..

I wish you a day of happiness, little bite-size pieces of perfection....
I wish You a day of Peace, Happiness and Joy.

and a very Merry Christmas!

Happy Birthday Alan

Dearest Al,

I know you dont want me to write anything mushy..but sorry tooo bad so sad, we have a tradition to keep.. ..!

No one celebrates their birthday with as much enthusiasm as you do and so I know you will have a gathering of some sort planned, and Im sure there will be many speeches too (grins). I wish I was there, I miss the comeraderie, I miss the easy laughter and the acceptance of each others quirks, I miss being around good folk who say what they mean and manage somehow not to offend even when they are being totally honest with one another. I miss so many little things about our culture, the things which have made me who i am and which aren't always understood out here. I remember all the previous celebrations as vividly as though they were yesterday, and I've learned to smile through my tears. The Barn where we danced til dawn, the braai in Somerset West..remember? The one where you tipped the water on the hot coals and ended up looking like Phineas the Ash Man!? None of us will ever forget that.

I have spent as much time in your home as I ever did in my own, and in 11 years, and did so happily. I've come to know you as well as I do my own children..and you're the finest mix between fool and gentleman I have ever known.. Its knowing the whole person and over the years seeing all the facets merge into someone worthwhile and honourable. Watching you overcome emotions about your relationship with your dad, coping with his death and the feelings it left you sitting with just broke my heart, but you have emerged a better person for it, stronger and more in touch with your feelings and who you are, than ever before.

It must of been such a proud moment for your mom to see you and your sisters at your sisters wedding, she has reason to be proud, you have nutured and kept your family whole for many years, and I know the women in your life have nurtured you in return, encouraging you always to fulfill your dreams and realize your full potential.

I know you've achieved academic excellence in everything you've attempted all your life, I know that you have reached a fantastic point in your career, way earlier than most, I know you have a circle of friends of which anyone would be proud...but, it isnt any of those things that squeeze my heart and make me proud that you're my son in law and a part of our family, no, its the way you interact with your children, its the way you provide and care for your family, mostly though its just the way you look at my daughter and the love that overflows from that into every aspect of your life.

Love you Al, have a happy happy day....(and have an Apple Sour just for me!)

Mum x

The greatest gifts

The rain drizzled steadily enough to make me keep my wipers on and the ocean looked grey and cold, the wind whipped up debris off the side of the road and so between fog and rain the drive into work this afternoon was slow and a little dreary. We have needed extra staff over the past few days so I've managed to pick up a few extra shifts, which is great but it has made my schedule look a little crazy this week.

Managed to get some Christmas shopping in before work though which was a good thing, not an easy thing to do when youre doing the shopping together mind you and so there were lots of 'look that way for minute while I load your present in to the car', and..can you stay upstairs while I wrap the gift you didnt see me buy!'..we may seem like late starters but we finally seem to be getting into the spirit of things. The tree is up and the decorations (we're into the minimalist look this year) are up, some of which were even homemade! Parcels have been mailed to various parts of the world, and

We have decided to spend Christmas eve on our own and then drive through to my family on Christmas day and help them finish off their leftovers, veg in front of the TV and watch old movies, and savour the mince pies and Christmas cake for which my sister has become (world) renowned!

For some reason the hype and excitement of the season has not overwhelmed me at all this year, I feel quite peaceful and content. Finally we know what the important gifts are, and th cant be bought in a shop. I got to thinking about past Christmases and how at times they were so fraught with pain I was unable to savour the real meaning of the season. This year the people I care most about are happy too, and even if they arent with me physically, that knowledge is more than enough.

Into the night...

I pull out of the hospital parking lot a little after 3.30 am, a call in from a sick colleague effectively changing my schedule for the next 48 hrs. Its freezing and I crank up the heat and sip my steaming coffee gingerly as I navigate over the speed bumps in the road.

The road is quiet as I ease onto the highway, the music on the radio as mellow as it should be at this hour. Suddenly my gas light comes on, and I groan, regretting not stopping to fill up on my way in to work earlier. I pull off at the first exit, the gas station is dark and forbidding and seems terribly remote and scary in the darkness. I have no choice, I pull in quickly jump out and realize the pumps have all been closed. Crap. I head back to the highway and pull off at the next exit..same scenario..pumps closed. Jeesh what is this, either gas stations are making enough money working 'office hours' or they're run out!!?

Suddenly my early morning drive home become slightly ominous. I'm 30+ miles from home, and there are no gas stations between here and there. I slow right down and realize Im going to have to trickle home as slow as can be, there's no rush anyhow, plenty of time I tell myself silently. I plug in my cell phone just in case, and settle in for a long drive.

The night sky becomes more brilliantly lit with stars as I draw away from the city lights and head into the country, and the first shooting star takes me pleasantly by surprise. The 2nd one makes me strain into the sky, within a few minutes there is a 3rd and then another..I decide to pull off the road and brave the pre-dawn freeze. As I climb out and stand in the darkness and look skywards, I realize Im in the midst of a meteor shower, a silent fireworks display..and a stunning one at that, all around me the stars rain down and I twist and turn not wanting to miss a single one.

Eventually the cold forces me back into the car, and as I begin my slow drive home into the night, I realize that had my stars not lined up as they did, I would have surely missed this amazing spectacle completely.

Postscript: I made it home safely and then googled this..

The Geminid shower, so named because its meteors radiate from the constellation Gemini, should produce 60 to 120 meteors per hour at its peak around 2 a.m. Friday morning, Ruby said. That's when the Earth will rotate into position with Gemini directly overhead.

If a 2 a.m. wake-up call doesn't fit your schedule, Ruby said, any time between midnight and dawn should yield decent viewing in areas without heavy pollution -- but don't count on much before then.

The mango rains

I am about 8, and my sister and I are sitting crouched on our haunches in the dusty African earth. We bite into the thin skins of our mangoes and slowly peel them back with our teeth, exposing the succulent flesh beneath. The juice drips down our chins which we wipe carelessly with the back of our hands at regular intervals. Our Swazi nanny sweeps the yard around us, bent at the waist her one elbow leaning on her knee as she makes short strokes with the hand broom, a primitive but effective cleaning tool made from a handful of long African grass and tied together crudely at the base. A bright eyed baby, secured firmly to her back watches us intently, Daisy croons a mellow lullaby with barely distinguishable words as she works, one eye on us and the other on the accumulating pile of dirt which she has pushed to one side, every now and then she sprinkles water on the ground to reduce the dust.

We savour our mangoes, and slowly suck them dry, pulling the fibre from between our teeth afterwards and then wiping sticky hands on our clothes. We take great pains later to wash the huge pips. We scrape the mango hair up into various shapes, and put them out to dry in the sun, leaving them there until they are stiff and bleached white. Then we add them to our collection and paint gaudy faces, glue brightly coloured beads strategically, and even give them earrings. Then we line up these women of ill repute for our dad to do the final hook applications while we wait impatiently to hang them on the Christmas tree.

My mom was incredibly talented when it came to crafts and home decor, so we always made our own tree decorations when we were children. We spray painted pine cones and dipped (generously) them in glitter, we painted jakaranda seeds by hand in a multitude of colours. As we grew older the ornaments changed and became a little more sophisticated. My sister knitted little Santa's and snowmen, while I molded clay santa's, painted wooden shapes, and threaded coloured beads onto wire in a variety of shapes and sizes. Each year our collection grew and grew until our tree was laden and bent with its over abundance of goodies.

When my children were growing up we did that too, we had fairies made from doilies and Christmas hats from empty toilet rolls, I keept those glitter fairies and other bits and bobs for years, hating when they eventually collapsed froma ge and over use. Now my grandchildren continue the tradition as they pile their tree high with homemade arts and crafts, made at school or as a ploy to keep little hands busy at the beginning of a long summer holiday.

As they climb high to place that treasured star made from straws and glitter, different ideas perhaps, but made with the same enthusiasm as I did more than 40 years ago, in the dusty hills of an African summer, before the rains fell and ensured a bountiful mango crop just before Christmas.

a fine line

I read somewhere, 'I blog because I have this urgent need to procrastinate'..or something similar.
He and I sit and ponder this very thing over breakfast this morning. A quiet almost sombre affair, mainly because I'm asleep on my feet after a night shift from hell and a fairly long drive home.
Its cold and so we sit huddled close, he slowly sips his coffee and stares distractedly over my shoulder. S jumps on and off the couch and eventually settles first next to one and then the other in a sweet pattern of fairness. We have missed each other in a few short hours, and so this brief time together before I sleep is savoured for as long as possible.
I sit and crunch my cereal 'a pretty mess' he calls it, and we talk. Remind me why we blog he mumbles again quietly. We spill our blood sweat and tears into words at regular intervals, edit a hundred times before we hit send and wait anxiously for responses, from each other and others.
The traffic here on Mulitply is far less then it was on 360, we both know that, and many times we feel as though we are doing something completely new yet strangely familiar. Nothing is quite the same and yet it is. Response neither confirms or takes away who we are, but it is rewarding and heartwarming to see the words so carefully placed by someone else, at the bottom of your freshly written piece.
We too comment back and forth to people we will probably never meet, form close relationships with strangers, get wound up over words one day and moved to tears another. Tomorrow we do it all again.
I communicate primarily with friends and family back home, I say sleepily, and snuggle deeper into his shoulder, the conversations tend to become more interesting the sleepier I get. I do hear what he says however, and its something that confuses, yet inspires me. Why do we blog?
I guess there are a myriad of reason too complex and deep to explain to anyone else other than someone who blogs themselves. I'm not even sure why I write at all, why I put down words from my very soul for the whole world to see. Many have shared in my joy, had glimpses of my pain, some may have borne the brunt of my intolerance of sheer nonsense, I have loved and cried and laughed for all the world to see!
The reason for the question was perhaps that last night I stumbled through a few blogs of people I had lost contact with a long time ago, as sometimes happens in life when we drift into circles finding new people who fill our needs, our desires and share the same thoughts and dreams better than others did before. I do not think of myself as prudish or naive in anyway, I am neither vulgar nor foul mouthed. I am also fully aware that what any of us say on our blogs is personal and we each have that right to say and do what we please.
However unless the page is set for private viewing, then it becomes fair game..open and available for any of us (vulnerable sensitive folk) to read, and suddenly it becomes my issue. Last night I found myself shaking my head as I scanned through way to much drivel, a morbid fascination kept me reading longer than I should have. Who writes this stuff, what sort of person shares these inane intimate details of their lives and who really cares that they do? That you pee in the shower should be of interest to who? Why should I care if you wear underwear or not, and I don't want to know about your orgasms..it disturbs me, not that you have them but that your face and the act now go hand in hand (so to speak) so now and for ever more when ever I see your smiling face pop up, I will think of the crassly described event too and my day will be ruined. In many instances writing is cathartic and we all understand this, but does it make a person feel better to know that now we all know that they have no bladder control in the shower!??
We came to no real conclusions this morning, no profound thoughts at all in fact, but at some point it became quite clear to me why I write, and why I share it with you, its all in the name of being authentic and being recognized, and perhaps thats why any of us blog, whether its crass or deeply nurturing, all we try to be is real.
Eventually I slipped into sleep, and left him shaking his head in wonder at the depth of intelligent conversation one can only experience with the seriously sleep deprived.

heartstrings

I have to go to sleep and dream of lions and feeling you close beside me

your arm draped gently over my back

and my arm holding you so close that I can feel a heartbeat

.and not know if it is your heart I feel, or mine.

kennedy james

More than a daily ritual

I remember as a little girl sitting on the laundry basket watching my dad shave.

His morning ritual of lathering up his face with his bristle brush, making sure his whole chin was covered in soap. Then running his razor under the hot water..and slowly shaving his face, contorting it this way and that, long slow strokes with the warmed razor, and then rapid strokes up under his chin. Pulling his skin to accommodate the run of the blade. Often putting a blob of shaving soap on my nose with his brush.

Sometimes he would talk to me, his words mumbled under layers of soap, and drowned by the running water. I just loved the tone of his voice, and I know he loved me being there. Sometimes it would just be a silent interlude, with me just staring, sometimes asking him silly questions as he went along. Sometimes I would spot a drop of blood when he nicked himself, and would run for a face cloth and bits of tissue to stop the bleeding, always impressed at how bravely he handled the pain!

I remember the smell of his 'Lifebouy' soap, the smell of the clean towel I clutched for him, the smell of the dash of the 'Brut' aftershave he splashed on afterwards. I loved those mornings we spent together, and the smell of a freshly shaved man became deeply imbedded in my soul.

I remember years later the ritual continued though slightly altered, for my mother shaved him each day as he lay dying at home. For months, she shaved him, never missing a day, always making sure his face was smooth and clean for his daughters, and grandchildren to kiss. The ritual was the same, and sometimes we giggled at our lack of expertise, when he was still well enough, he laughed with us and gave us simple directions. Always so patient.

Through the years Ive watched men shave, grandfathers, fathers, husbands, lovers, a son and son in law too..and now Ive watched my grandchildren watch their father shave, and seen the wonder in their eyes too...always evocative to me, a sign of something deeper. I was not sure what.

Today its you I watch, I swing my butt up on the vanity, and watch you lather up your face. Your sensual rhythm with your razor never changes, slowly and steadily you swipe your skin, down and then up, sometimes smiling at me sideways, winking in the mirror, or leaning forward to give me a soapy kiss. You seem unperturbed by my mindless chatter. Although focussed on the job at hand you never fail to see the love in my eyes glowing deeply within the steamy confines of the bathroom this cold winter morning.

Eventually your skin is smooth as you would like it to be, you pull the plug and allow the soapy water to drain noisely, as I lean forward and wipe the last remnants of soap from your face...

Nature's Palette

Everybody needs to witness a good sunset from time to time...

They happen everyday and yet perhaps because we may need to make an effort to get to a good spot for the best view, or just because we're caught up with our daily lives, we miss so many, and even when we do we may not have our camera's handy.

Yesterday we decided we needed to get to the good spot, it took a semi-illegal stop along the 101 ('semi' only because everyone parks there everyday..)then a steep climb to the top of a cliff, an even steeper climb down to the beach...and the glory was all ours.

We walked along the stony beach and picked our way through driftwood, watched the pelicans dive into the ocean, all the while the sun sunk steadily towards the horizon.

A little otter bobbed off shore, keeping a beady eye on one black over excited scottie belting up and down through the waves. I found an old tennis ball which I tossed into the water, she fetched until she was exhausted, and then decided to bury it, to save herself I guess.

We settled on a rock, just us and a gentle breeze. The sun dipped steadily, changing the colour of the sky dramatically as it spilled its rich hue from a unique palette, onto the water as it gently slapped against the sand.

No more words were neccessary.

Bella turns 6 ~

Dearest Bella,

You were such a surprise baby to us all Bella..especially to your mom! We just weren’t expecting you right then, but suddenly, there you were, a gentle little blip on a sonar monitor. After your mom recovered from the ‘surprise’ she was so so happy that you were there and so we rushed to fix up your room. We all painted like crazy, and made curtains, and recovered Gran Kirk’s old chair, (the green one that rocks, which is now in your sitting room) we painted pictures and hung them on the wall, and we bought a whole lot of pink clothes because your mom knew you were a girl!

You grew and grew, and before we knew it you were ready to be born. Your mom came to hospital..the same hospital I was working in, in Somerset West, the only people there that day you were born, were your mom and dad and me…that made it sooo special!! We were all so happy to meet you, especially your brother and sister…and they both still think you’re the best little sister ever!

Isabella Kate, the perfect completion to our family!

Wow but you've had such an awesome year...

Im sorry I missed your concert this year, everyone said you were fabulous, but I’ve seen you at concerts before so I can imagine how amazing you were. I remember you singing Nkosi Sikele in three languages when you were only 3 at nursery school in Franschhoek…do you remember that? Livvy was dressed up as a piggy and you were an angel…I remember your halo kept slipping, so you just took it off…and your angel gown too.

It was so good spending time with you in July! Do you know which times I loved the best? The mornings..when you would creep into my bed with your panda bear, and we would whisper secrets to each other. I loved that. I also loved playing Old Maid with you around the fireplace, and watching you jump on the trampoline, and walking while you rode your bike (are the fairy wheels gone??) Soon we will do it all again, and fill our hearts with more precious and wonderful memories.

Youre so smart and funny, and gorgeous beyond words…. I love you and miss you little girl, every single day!

Have a happy happy Birthday Bella Boo!

Much love,

Nani

Two ~ Photo Friday

The Best of Times

Having a birthday and Thanksgiving a day apart sure was something!

It did give us an excuse to gather the American side of the family together in one spot for a few days though. My mum, sister and nephew drove across from Bakersfield on Wednesday my birthday, (yep the BIG 50...) Both my children had called earlier, my daughter and her family from South Africa, and my son from Tucson ( who was tied up with work commitments and couldnt join us), and we had shared a warm, comforting 'all tears kept strictly in check', kind of conversation, trying hard not to say what we all wanted to say, but knowing if we did the floodgates would open, anyhow it was a good talk with much laughter.

Kennedy and Mum

We booked a dinner table at the Chumash Casino for the seafood buffet and buffed and preened we arrived dead on time, a small brief heartstopping moment when my nephew Chris needed to produce his ID (to prove his tender 18 years) and discovered he had left it at home, My sister and I are never ones to submit easily, asked (politely of course) to see the manager, who duly came down and gave him a special 'hotel guest' pass (yayyy) and we were in!

The buffet was laden with an amazing array of seafood, lobster shrimp and a variety of hot seafood dishes.. and the puds, it didnt take long before we were in like pigs and tasting a little bit of this and that. And thats when it happened.

I came back to the table plate laden, everybody sitting at the table waiting for me..when out from behind a pillar popped my son and his girlfriend! My face was a picture i know, my jaw dropped and I just stood there in total shock..he just wasnt supposed to be there..and he was, before I knew it i was sobbing (loudly) into his new abercrombie shirt! Needless to say the whole family was in on 'the secret'and the whole thing had taken a million or so phonecalls without me suspecting a thing! hehe...I love a surprise

Nic and me

My other nephew is a student pilot. He managed to hire a plane from the school, and flew into Santa Ynez on Thanksgiving. My sister, Chris and i drove out to the airfield to watch him come in, a warm glow of pride spread right through me as the wheels of that little piper touched down. He taxied in as we waving madly, walked out onto the tarmac to greet him, help him secure the plane and lug luggage to the car. I would have amazing pictures of this, but unfortunately Someone had been fiddling with my camera and messed up the settings..so i don't!

Nic, Jen, Chris and Steve

Dinner was a jolly happy affair, we ate drank and were merry, played games (apple to apple....) the youngsters were absolutely hilarious...and the two guitar playing folk jammed together..there was quiet speculation between my sister and me that this was something we needed to do on a regular basis .

Kennedy jamming with Steve

The next day everybody left under there own steam, my nephews flew back together to Bakersfield, My son and his girlfriend flew back to Tucson...and my sister and mum drove back with their scottie Hughie..who puked the whole way home and stank out the car to high heaven. Family are just who they are, and nothing brings out the best or worst in people more than a family gathering does, but apart from two mental dogs (who just really love each other) playing raucously in the middle of the night, the making of early morning coffee which woke the folk sleeping all over the sitting room floor.. and being locked in the bathroom when the lock stuck (not once but many times) we survived it and today I know we feel richer for the contact, blessed by the memories and have fodder for many blogs to come.

Chris, Nic and Steve

Rummaging through

I dont pretend to know what love is for everyone, all I can do is tell you what love is for me.

It's knowing all about someone, and still wanting to be with them more than any other, love is trusting them enough to tell them everything about yourself, including the things you might be ashamed of, love is feeling comfortable and safe with someone...but still getting weak-kneed when they walk into a room, catch your eye, and give you that smile.., its the touch of a hand in your hair, a kiss on the forehead. Its more than actually saying the words, its about it being all around, hanging in the air, ripe for the picking at any time.

Its coffee or tea..in the morning, and finding a heartstone on the path. Its in the sounds of a windchime, the whirr of a hummingbird. A quick haircut in the kitchen. Its about someone holding your shirt down when you try on clothing in the middle of the store. Its a back massage when you need it, and space when you dont, and knowing the difference.

Its also about turning towards each other in times of difficulty, and not away, which is hard to do when you're licking a wound. Its about wanting true happiness for the other because only then are we ourselves truly happy, its about having no room for pride and stubborness, no room for hurting and critisism, no time for selfishness and games. Its loving the other in sickness and in health, and it demands faithfulness beyond the mere call of fidelity because love extends far into the realms of trustworthiness.

Its about admitting our weaknesses and praising each others strengths. Its not about losing oneself, but about adjusting to the others needs and wants as they shift and adjust to yours. Its about saying sorry..readily, when we make mistakes...and its about accepting apologies just as readily. Because no matter how perfect love makes us feel..we just aren't. Love is looking in the same direction, even if we see things a little differently.

Love is the most forgiving and all encompassing of emotions and the rewards are multiplied ten fold in their return.

You would think intimacy in the face of love would be easy to do, but it is somewhat different, because as we get older the lines shift, the rules blur..and needs change, or do they?

It's learning to be comfortable with someone rummaging through your soul....it's about baring yourself and allowing the another to scoop up your past, all your anger.. and pain... and heartache...and disappointments...and fill your already love filled, bulging heart with something infinitely better. Its finding that even whilst youre in the midst of being two, you really arent seperate at all....

Its not easy..no-one ever said it was....

Chicken Soup for the Soul

So while he waits downstairs, fiddling with the new dvd player and fine tuning the tv so we can settle down and watch the next batch of videos we have, a little later...I'm putting up a quick post.

We are on our way to do some birthday shopping in Santa Maria, a little way up the 101 N, a little inland but still a lovely drive.

The days which start out so cold and overcast, emerge into the most spectacular winter days. Clear blue skies and a mellow sun, which have encouraged us to meander in to town each afternoon, peer into quaint shop windows and sip lattes on street side cafe's.

The dog is a bit of an exhibitionist, and tends to attract loads of attention, which she loves and plays it to the hilt. She was positively bouncing when she spotted a two year old yesterday sitting at the table next to us, and almost licked the poor kids skin off, much hilarity and laughter later, we reigned in the hound and mosied on home to chicken soup around the fire.

Wrters Block # 28 ~ That Day

My son, you werent even supposed to be at the lake that day and you werent supposed to have taken the boat. But, you couldnt resist the run of good fishing, and the warm January sun on your back, the thrill of the line between your fingers, or the roll of the boat beneath your feet. My boy, you probably shouldnt have been standing in that boat, or taken your shoes off that day, or had the oars poised for flight in harms way. But, you did all that one last time. as you slipped on boyish enthuisiasm and lost your grip on life..

A little bit this..and a little bit of that

What with one thing and another..its been quite a week!

I'm tired dog tired, and I should be in bed fast asleep..but during the drive home from work my mind raced as words tumbled through my weary brain, and so before I melt into the comfort of my recently slept in bed, I thought I had to jot down a few thoughts..lest i turn 50 and forget them.

I'm constantly amazed by people, I am. I move to a new town, where I know absolutely no-one, and find myself enveloped in warmth and friendship rarely seen before. My brand new co-workers have gone out of their way to make me feel welcome, with a myriad of little things..like notes signed and stuck on the notice board..welcoming hands, welcoming me to the unit. The joy they have expressed at knowing of K's visit, constant little references about how happy I look, and how happy they are to see me happy.

We don't celebrate halloween back home the way they do here, trick or treating was not something I had experienced before. This year I had children in their hoards come to my door, I handed out handfuls of candy to the dearest little souls, dressed in an assortment of costumes that left me just oohing and ahhing... to the sounds in the background of 'cripes babe..just give them two each..not a whole handful you're going to run out' ('for who' I muttered..) and a Scottie who was determined to get her 'kiddie fix' at any cost. She put herself on Halloween Watch at the top of the stairs, and went berserk each time the doorbell rang..rushed out and gave each child a jolly good tongue lashing before being hauled back inside, spoiling all her fun..with just of the squeals of the children in the distance as they retreated hastily down the driveway, while she strained for more. Eventually she would settle down and take up her position once more and to lay in wait for the next unsuspecting group of pirates and princesses!

You arrived, after months and weeks and days of anticipation, your voice boomed across the tarmac as you spotted us waiting at the gate, a windswept woman with tousled hair, and an excited little dog who has the memory of you tucked firmly into her little doggy heart. Its been a gentle loving time, with lots of laughter and fun, just the way it should be; and the months of traumatic separation for now, a distant memory.

And then there are the losses. A 'friend' whom I thought was real, but wasn't, sweet words one week turned abruptly into words of insinuated venom, expressed on a blog, in comments tucked away out of sight, found as usual by a friend of a friend..who wondered. Comments and views supported by a compact covey of women who use vile words to whip up themselves up to a frenzy and feed on the pain it causes others. That they group so perfectly together should not be surprising, and yet I am. I am especially surprised at how she has joined them, effortlessly using clever innuendos to ingratiate herself, finding new if somewhat dirty coat tails to fly by.

I pondered all this as I drove home through heavy fog this morning, fog for which much of the 101 during winter, is well renowned, it was as thick as the proverbial pea-soup today. As the road twisted and turned through the hills, the fog tucked firmly into the valleys and crevices, alternately lifting and shifting as shafts of sun streamed through, knowing full well it would win eventually and the view ahead would once more be clear, the horizon visible in all its glory. I glanced in the rear view mirror as I watched the sun persevere, and saw what looked like grey cotton wool ahead of me turn slowly to pink.

My mood lifted as I rounded the last bend, turned the last corner and found the street where we live, the very place where you wait.

Teardrops and roses

It was a normal day, we did nothing extra-ordinary at all..

except that we spent it together..

and you gave me twenty four

of the most

gorgeous pink roses..

Flying High

I would love to be sitting here sharing a cup of coffee with you all, while reading through all my favourite daily blogs, but.. Im busy busy busy, doing laundry, washing floors..car..dog..and anything else that keeps still long enough. Its been too long and now he's coming home...tomorrow!

Im pretty tired, I worked last night, so home will be a loose interpretation of clean..he won't notice, hopefully, all he will see is my huge smile, arms open wide..and my pounding heart. I do hope he notices the towels folded neatly and the books stacked next to his side of the bed..just so, but he probably wont..what he will see is my chin tremble and tears glisten as I spot him in the crowd at the tiny caribbean style airport. Im hoping he will notice the clean floors and clean linen..but he wont, he will be looking for the windchimes and pottery bell he bought on a previous visit.

What he will notice is the colour of my hair and the texture of my skin...the excitement in my voice and the sunglasses perched on top of my head.

I will worry about the superfical..

and he will show me what's really important...

and remind me that Love is everything its cracked up to be.

(..and now back to the grindstone..because love is also very very hard work it seems!!)

The Striped Cup

I see you in the

half-light

of my dreams,
the slight

arc

of your smile,
as you consider an answer
to yet another question

as I try to fit inside

the space between
your bones

Hope wrapped with certainty

surround me

and hold me tight against the sheets,

against the pillow...

I am surrounded

by your words

spilling softly from your lips

to my ears

you pour some coffee
in the

striped cup

and

go outside

to sit.

Rituals of love

Within a week,
I can nudge you gently
when you snore,
and feel you turn over
my portion of
the comforter
in tow.
I will wake to the smell of coffee,
listen to the sounds of you in the shower
and discuss the news
first hand.
At the end of my shift,
I will come home to a house
that isnt empty,
and
snuggle close as we watch a movie
we've discussed
but havent seen before.
Ive missed you most in the mornings
your familiar sounds and
tell tale signs of you
in the kitchen before me..
the simple
rituals and rhythms
of everyday life.
In one week..I will glimpse
the twinkle in your eye
as I tell you
politely,
to please
put
your teaspoon
in the
kitchen sink...

a walk on the wildside

Its been lovely having my family here for the weekend, they arrived, dog and all, early Saturday morning so we could watch the rugby match together.
What with constant texts between my daughter and son in law in South Africa, and my son in Tucson..it truly felt as though we were all together watching the game in one room just as we used to, and not all spread out across all corner of the globe as we really are.
Winning was as emotional and real as if I had been right there in the stadium. Just beautiful.
Sport has the ability to transcend all barriers and unites a country like ours so intensely, as with the win in 1995, this one will continue to feed our patriotism and carry us through some pretty tough times.
This morning the three of us took the dogs, and hiked the trails through The Hans Christian Anderson park which is nearby. What started off as a pretty chilly morning soon warmed and the day turned out sunny and clear with not a cloud in the sky.
The trail itself winds its way up through the forests with intermittent views of the hills in the distance, and then dips down into the valley and loops back through the sports fields back to the starting point. There were no other hikers out, just a couple of hawks circling overhead to keep us company as we chatted quietly and kept an eye out for the mountain lions we had seen warnings for.
We joked about sending my mum out ahead as bait..funny how she didn't laugh quite as loudly as my sister and I did.
Eventually arriving home dusty and sweaty with two exhausted little dogs...

all of us ready for a nap

Have dog..will travel

While we were packing the car the night before, Hughie
(my sisters older and very regal scottie)
showed little Senga exactly where the best viewing postions were.
Throughout all the travelling we have done, she has always sat on the front seat,
or on the floor next to me.
Not anymore it seems..

He showed her that being higher up was wayyy better...

The next day, she hopped up and spent the entire trip in the new, elevated position.

I was surprised she remebered!
She seems to forget most of what I teach her however...

All ready to go!

New Horizons

This morning at around 0715, I watched the sun rise over the Pacific ocean as I cruised down the 101 S on my way to work. This evening I watched the same sun set over the hills of Bakersfield as I drove along the I-5, a truly stunning spectacle which unfortunately seemed to be over in the blink of an eye. As fleeting perhaps as happiness, or joy.. but the memory of which keeps us yearning /striving for more of the same.
Im unpacked and fairly settled, amazing the spare time one has when there is no internet available! Its been good to settle my belongings in my own space, and feel familiar with that! This townhouse feels comfy, with a real sense of home. Hopefully I will have internet sometime this week.
Im in Bakersfield for the night, and drive back to Solvang tomorrow with my pup! Senga has yet to see her new home, she has spent the past 2 weeks with my mom and had the luxury of a huge garden and another scottie to play with. The pool however was becoming a nightmare, she has fallen in three times, and has never quite got the hang of swimming to the edge. Scotties have a heavy coat and short legs..not the ideal combo for pool swimming! It's time to come home...
Three days (yep 3..!) of hospital orientation is done (finally) I know its neccessary, but geeez its pretty boring stuff, thank heavens there were multiple distractions in the form of some pretty interesting characters in the classroom. Nothing like someone with a twitch or other weird personal habits to keep one amused. I discovered I missed being a student, but not that much! My neck got sore and my concentration proved to be shocking, I fidget alot, I found myself asking for endless toilet breaks (nothing to do with a weak bladder either) just a chance to wander the hallways and sneak off a text or two..
More news soon..

Slipstream

I wind my way down the Californian coast on the 101 S, from Santa Barbara,

hugging the coastal road for as long as possible, its late afternoon and I half watch the sun setting in my review mirror.

The sounds of a local radio station pumping out a fairly regular stream of oldies which I find pretty fitting for the stretch of the Ventura Highway I'm traversing.
I see the sign posts flash by and I cant help but feel a sense of wonder that I am where I am...I shake my head quietly to myself, the enormity of it all still gets to me at times!
Inspite of the modernization all around me, the music and the locale sucks me back to another era, and as i look around Im reminded how timeless this route truly is.
I hit the LA traffic at around 6pm,
and the next few hours are spent a crawl, I round a bend and the lights of city sprawled below twinkle prettily.
As we sit on the highway going nowhere fast, one car right next to the other the balmy weather

demanding that you drive with windows down,

the lucky ones in convertables..listening to each others music and telephone conversations as we inch along, all of us equalled by the stilling power of rush hour traffic.
However its the full moon rising just ahead which captures my attention,
it hovers just out of reach, turns as I do and I follow it south, and then west.
Truckers of America accompany me across the desert,
quiet companions, moving their giant bulks out of my way,

and the quick flash of lights as if to say 'godspeed' as I ease past, give me comfort.
I am amazed at the numbers of trucks on the road this night, parked in rest stops, in truckstops, and hugging the right hand lanes of the highways from one horizon to the other.
Early morning and the lights of Tucson welcome me back, I slip quickly into my parking spot,

the warm still air engulfs me as I lug my suitcase from my insect smattered car.
I only have energy to brush my teeth

and listen to your voice in my ear, as I drift off into the deepest of sleeps.

The first leg of a long journey is over...

A Family Wedding

For Lynne and Warren:

A special day for both of you!

I found a Najavo (Native American) tradition and wedding blessing which i thought summed up my thoughts for you today..have an awesome day.. my biggest wish of course..that I was there...!

The traditional wedding vase is one of the more popular. Coarse clay is dug from local riverbeds then mixed with other types of rock such as volcanic rock and Anasazi chips. It is thin cleaned and ground up, coiled, and shaped by hand. After the pot has been formed, it is smoothed out on the outer surface by using a smooth rock. Then a design is added to the exterior, if any. Most of the dried pottery is fired in an open, wood and sheep manure fire, resulting in "fire clouds" on the pottery's surface. When finished firing, an application of Pinion pitch is added. This water proofs the pot and adds a soft luster and wonderful aroma.

A week or two before the wedding, the future husband's parents make the wedding vase. When the vase has been made, the husband, his parents, and all his relatives go to the bride's house. Blessed water is poured into the wedding vase. The bride drinks from one opening of the vase, turns it around clockwise , and gives it to the groom who then drinks from the opposite side of the vase. They both cleans each others hands with the remaining water. This ceremony unites them in eternal love and a happy, successful, stable marriage. The couple will treasure the vase though out their married life. The wedding vase should always be protected. It should never be broken or destroyed

Now you will feel no rain,

for each of you will be the shelter for the other.

Now you will feel no cold, for each of you will be the warmth to the other.

Now you are two persons,

but there is only one life before you. Go now to your dwelling, to enter into the days of your life together,

and may your days be good and long upon the earth.Treat yourselves and each other with respect,

and remind yourselves often of what brought you together. Give the highest priority to the tenderness,

gentleness and kindness

that your connection deserves.

When frustration, difficulty and fear assail your relationship--as they threaten all relationships at one time or another--remember to focus on what is right between you, not only the part which seems wrong.

In this way, you can ride out the storms when clouds hide the face of the sun in your lives--remembering that even if you lose sight of it for a moment,

the sun is still there.

And if each of you takes responsibility for the quality of your life together, it will be marked by abundance and delight.

I wish you both a lifetime of happiness!

Onwards and Upwards...

Pic: Saquaro cactus dried wood..the basic structure inside a cactus...all cacti actually, and all different too

So the next few weeks will be hectic, with little time to post much, I will try and leave you with a picture here and there, but for the next week I wont have much access to a computer.

On Friday I will drive up to Bakersfield (a 10 hr drive) from Tucson, and spend the weekend with my mom and sister. Monday I will shoot up to Sacramento (4 1/2 hrs) to get my Californian nursing licence, it involves paperwork and proof of credentials but not (thank heavens) an exam of any sort! It just sucks that each state has its own board of nursing, and each state has its own requirements for endorsement. And of course each time you apply..it costs a fair bit of money, somewhere between $200-300. So it does kinda take the fun out of relocation! Im soooo over relocation I cant tell you! I am hoping this will be quick and painless..it rarely is I find!

I will drive back to Bakersfield, spend a night with family and then over to Santa Barbara, to have my medical and drug screen and back home to Tucson. Work 3 (yes threeeee) more shifts and head west. I start my new job on the 8th Oct., its a permanent post, not a travel position..a much smaller unit, baby friendly..on the beach almost!

Im looking forward to the change. leaving Nic here in Tucson is heart wrenching in many ways..but absolutely the right thing to do. He seems to have settled, has a girlfriend, the two have moved in together and seems blissfully happy with the domestic arrangements. Two new kittens complete the picture. Im glad they're happy..long may it last!

Arghhhh..a long trip to navigate this weekend...