Bloomin' and anniversary...

(edit: I just realized the photos are reversed from where they should be. It is my birthday and I don't feel like redoing the entire post, so please use your imagination and flip the photos! Thanks!)

27 years ago today my beloved and I eloped and joined in Holy matrimony. We have been like a hook and eye ever since... joined in lock-step, and even when seperated by work or travel, we are always ready and waiting to rejoin. The bond is strong, and colorful!



51 years ago today my mothers water broke as she was riding the up escalator at Jordan Marsh department store, surrounded by her 4 small children. They were off to buy Easter shoes and outfits. She marched them right back down the opposite direction (much to their chagrin!) and went to the hospital where she then delivered ME. I have always felt that having a birthday in the early spring was a special gift. A time of new beginnings seems just right. 10 or so days ago my friend Sonia gave me some naked forcythia branches and told me to stuff them in water. I did as directed, and today those branches opened up in a thousand yellow bells, as if celebrating my birthday.

From locks to flowers, I find my blessings where I may. And they are bountiful.

Quiescent...

It has been 14 years since Chris and I have taken a real vacation. We just returned from a magical week in Punta Cana, Dominican Republic. We stayed at the Hard Rock Resort with my sister and her husband. While there we did a lot of sitting in the sun, (the weather was flawless, mid 70's at night and mid 80's during the day.) When we got hot we'd swim in one of the many pools, or more often, the incredible sea. The beaches were powdery sand, the crystal clear water warm and the surf wild enough to be a thrill to play in.

The scenery was just stunning. We took a tour of the local area and rode up into the mountains, through jungle. We toured a plantation where cocoa, coffee, bananas, plaintains, vanilla beans and pineapples were grown, harvested and prepared. Fascinating! We also went to a place and saw cigars being hand rolled.

There were memorable meals, talk, laughter, good books and an embarrassement of richness in the rest department.

I had much time be very still and reflect.
And when it was time to leave our view of river and ocean, rainbows and clear skies, I gratefully came home to embrace my "real" life. Refreshed and grateful, with new goals and dreams to pursue, and new energy to tap into. A time of quiescence has left me filled with memories and joy.

Nesting...

 

Winter is melting and some very early signs of spring are creeping in. One sign, which I wish I had words to describe, is a change in the quality of light. I find that suddenly the new light makes my house look winter worn and weary. I am beginning to get the urge to fix my nest. I want to clean cabinets and purge old linens. I want to make my windows sparkle. I am noticing dust on my curtains and baseboards that need scrubbing. All of this while I hear Cardinals and Robins outside starting early mating calls. The wild turkeys in the meadow are courting... the males strutting with their tails fanned. Soon new life will be appearing everywhere. I want to feather my nest to welcome the coming season.

Rooted...

Ten or so years ago I was over weight and over 40. I was visiting family and my niece asked me to skip with her. We were on a long wooden dock in Newburyport. At first I declined, but when she challenged me that I was the "fun sister,"(insinuating that her mother was no fun at all!) I grabbed her hand and sprung into action. A few steps later I had an odd sensation... it was like my foot had plunged through the thick wooden dock. I froze and looked down, both feet were where they should be. Yet my left foot was numb and I could not walk normally. As it turns out I had torn my Achilles tendon completely. There was surgery, a very painful recovery, and weeks in a cast. I have a really ugly scar and some hideous veins to show for it, but am grateful to be pain free and able to walk normally.

A few posts back I wrote about attending a dance class. There are people of all ages who go there... young beautiful types, older beautiful types. A petite woman in her 60's leaps and hops like an 8 year old. Everyone there moves and leaps and runs and hops and skips. Except me. I realized at the last class that I forget how to move that way. Sure, I dance and spin and move, but my feet stay pretty much rooted to the ground. I am hop-less, leap-less. I remembered this week how much I used to love running and all things that lifted me for one gossamer moment above the earth. But that injury? It scared me. It limited me. It made me earthbound, tightly. I literally forget how to move like I once did.

My dear friend Liz is 63-ish and NOT earthbound. She and I discussed a while back that as we age we become CAREFUL. We are careful not to fall, careful not to strain ourselves, careful not to move in ways that might cause harm. Because, after all, we are not kids any more. Liz says she makes a conscious effort to be care-LESS. She flings herself around and defies gravity. And it shows. She is youthful and vibrant and fabulous. On the other hand, I have become very careful because my subconscious is terrified to repeat that injury.

So I am making a new effort... an effort to shrug those "surly bonds of earth," to jump and hop and relearn to move the way I did as a kid. I want to skip and dance and chuck gravity and aging to the wind, where it belongs.

Mardi Gras...

When we lived in Memphis we frequently drove to the Gulf Coast of Mississippi to enjoy small town Mardi Gras parades with family. Our daughter has very happy memories of catching throws from the floats, and even riding on a float one year with her pseudo grandfather.

Here in Maine very few people know anything about Mardi Gras, but we wear beads every Fat Tuesday. This year the pugs did, too. And rather than "Let the good times roll," they went with, "Let the good toungues roll!"

Coming home...

 

I attended a favorite trade show in Atlanta, Georgia this weekend. When I left Maine in the wee hours of Thursday morning the temperature was -4 degrees. Later that day when my plane landed I was greeted by rows of pear trees in full bloom around the airport. I was hot in my light jacket. There were daffodills and pansies blooming in front of tidy storefronts. It was a taste of spring and I drank it in. The weekend was busy- filled with fun and excitement. I saw old friends, met new friends, worked hard and enjoyed it to my core.

It was a little sad to leave. Then there were travel delays and airport food. There was a bumpy flight and luggage that didn't find it's way. But waiting for me when I landed was my husband with a toy poodle snuggled in the front of his jacket to greet me. There was companionable chatter on the long ride home in the darkest of downpours. And then we rounded that last corner and the lights of home were spilling out on the ragged snow. Drowsy dogs greeted me joyfully. The house hugged me... fresh flowers in old bottles dotted the tables and windowsills. Chris and Rachel had cleaned the place till it shined like a bright penny. In the early morning hours I snuggled into the comfort of my own bed with my beloved and listened as the house sighed and creaked it's quite time song. There was restful sleep and the thrumming joy that exists wrapped in that simple 4 letter word... home.