Oops, forgot to include the song of the day from my beloved Guy Clark. Good advice at any age.
Saturday, April 28, 2012
44
In my dotage, I've evidently forgotten how to blog. That aside...
Many thanks to all for the wonderful wishes from around the country and around the world on the occasion of my birthday. At some point I suppose I'll tire of birthdays. Not yet. I love the cards, the small perfectly thought gifts, and these days the electronic wishes that wing their way through the facebook vapors--love them all, thank you. Today, I have had a big day. Most notable of the news that's fit to print, I sold my Jeep today. Oh, that hurts a bit to say. I had barely exerted energy to advertise it, but enough to reach the right person. It was all very easy in the end. But oh the stories we had together. She was my dream car and we certainly lived the dream. The dust, the back roads, the expertly changed tires, the opportunity to learn to change tires (and spark plugs and coolant and more), the ticket to freedom that is offered by all vehicles, the passport into another world. I really cannot express my gratitude to and for this car, this machine. Beyond fun. Beyond utility. Beyond any price that I could ask.
As if that weren't enough, today was porch flower day. I've been contemplating a change to the front decor of my small abode. I've had a Taos chili wreath on my door since I moved in. It was showing signs of age, dropping chilis and a moth infestation. So it went in the week's trash. And today I bought pots and flowers--geranium, petunia, dianthus, and lavender. I may bring them in tonight as we dip into the 30s, but I think we are ready for flower pots. A small but perfect birthday activity.
I also took myself out to lunch at Jimmy Johns. If you don't know, it's a sandwich chain. I'm ridiculously addicted because they will make me a sandwich wrapped in lettuce leaves (I'm off gluten), and their chips and pickles are delicious. So it doesn't seem a very fancy birthday lunch, but it made me quite happy.
Another not-so-exciting-but-actually-very-satisfying activity is my continued reading of Dick Proenneke's journals. This is the man who homesteaded in Alaska in the 60s and 70s in what is now Lake Clark National Park. His journals are a wonderful read, and we are visiting his cabin during our Alaska vacation this summer. My dad and I are driving the Kingfisher to Alaska in July. My sister is flying up to meet us and we will all spend some days together visiting Alaska sights and sites. Then I'll fly home to make the donuts and they will bring the car home on the ferry to Bellingham. We are expecting quite an adventure, although unlike Proenneke we won't need to build our own cabin and smoke our sheep meat.
The birthday cake comes on Monday. A few of us are having birthdays this weekend. So I'm being very Romanian in bringing my own treats on Monday--a small gluten-free chocolate torte with cherries and whipped cream for me, a Boston creme pie for Kris, and a big decadent mystery cake for John, whatever looks good at the cake store. Cake Day. Now that's a holiday to get behind. And in the end remembering fondly my birthday last year in Romania with good friends. And actually many past birthdays with good friends and family. I lead such a blessed life.
My decorated doorstep. The car came with many extras--cow skull was not one of them!
Many thanks to all for the wonderful wishes from around the country and around the world on the occasion of my birthday. At some point I suppose I'll tire of birthdays. Not yet. I love the cards, the small perfectly thought gifts, and these days the electronic wishes that wing their way through the facebook vapors--love them all, thank you. Today, I have had a big day. Most notable of the news that's fit to print, I sold my Jeep today. Oh, that hurts a bit to say. I had barely exerted energy to advertise it, but enough to reach the right person. It was all very easy in the end. But oh the stories we had together. She was my dream car and we certainly lived the dream. The dust, the back roads, the expertly changed tires, the opportunity to learn to change tires (and spark plugs and coolant and more), the ticket to freedom that is offered by all vehicles, the passport into another world. I really cannot express my gratitude to and for this car, this machine. Beyond fun. Beyond utility. Beyond any price that I could ask.
As if that weren't enough, today was porch flower day. I've been contemplating a change to the front decor of my small abode. I've had a Taos chili wreath on my door since I moved in. It was showing signs of age, dropping chilis and a moth infestation. So it went in the week's trash. And today I bought pots and flowers--geranium, petunia, dianthus, and lavender. I may bring them in tonight as we dip into the 30s, but I think we are ready for flower pots. A small but perfect birthday activity.
I also took myself out to lunch at Jimmy Johns. If you don't know, it's a sandwich chain. I'm ridiculously addicted because they will make me a sandwich wrapped in lettuce leaves (I'm off gluten), and their chips and pickles are delicious. So it doesn't seem a very fancy birthday lunch, but it made me quite happy.
Another not-so-exciting-but-actually-very-satisfying activity is my continued reading of Dick Proenneke's journals. This is the man who homesteaded in Alaska in the 60s and 70s in what is now Lake Clark National Park. His journals are a wonderful read, and we are visiting his cabin during our Alaska vacation this summer. My dad and I are driving the Kingfisher to Alaska in July. My sister is flying up to meet us and we will all spend some days together visiting Alaska sights and sites. Then I'll fly home to make the donuts and they will bring the car home on the ferry to Bellingham. We are expecting quite an adventure, although unlike Proenneke we won't need to build our own cabin and smoke our sheep meat.
The birthday cake comes on Monday. A few of us are having birthdays this weekend. So I'm being very Romanian in bringing my own treats on Monday--a small gluten-free chocolate torte with cherries and whipped cream for me, a Boston creme pie for Kris, and a big decadent mystery cake for John, whatever looks good at the cake store. Cake Day. Now that's a holiday to get behind. And in the end remembering fondly my birthday last year in Romania with good friends. And actually many past birthdays with good friends and family. I lead such a blessed life.
Friday, April 6, 2012
The Greatest Earth on Show
This past week I made a last-minute but extremely welcome work trip to Utah (Bryce Canyon and Moab) and in the meantime took a trip down memory lane from my summer season there twelve years ago. I was just paused there in the writing of this to find an appropriate adjective for my trip down memory lane. It was good, it was all-consuming, it kind of took my breath away: The jaw-dropping beauty of the place, the unusually moving compliment of a former coworker, the semi-legendary status that I unknowingly hold, the baseline by which to measure how far I've come. It's all circular, this life. So often we are lulled into believing it is linear, and then comes along a week like this.
Instead of giving any details, I think this time it's better told in pictures of rocks. Simply, indescribably, pictures of rocks. Then maybe a few lines from my facebook posts and a poem to close.
Scrawled on the early morning drive into Moab after our two days at Bryce Canyon:
Sometimes (now) I just want to
curl up in a ball on the ground and sob
for the lives I can't lead
for the lovers who are gone
for the dreams that have passed.
In relief, in gratitude
for the lives I have led
for the lovers who have stayed
even a short while
for the dreams, always present
always pushing
always nurturing.
For the light of a new day,
The one true thing.
From Facebook: "Scrambled up slickrock, bluebird sky, more hydrology tutorials, astragalus and a white composite, Miguel's Baja Grill, a near full moon, and a visit with an old friend=24 perfect hours in Moab."
And finally, dateline Bryce Canyon:
Jim, my excellent travel partner on passing me on the trail to the rim just after sunrise: "Oh, you missed it," meaning the sunrise. Me, contemplating the Known World: "I didn't miss a thing."
Instead of giving any details, I think this time it's better told in pictures of rocks. Simply, indescribably, pictures of rocks. Then maybe a few lines from my facebook posts and a poem to close.
Scrawled on the early morning drive into Moab after our two days at Bryce Canyon:
Sometimes (now) I just want to
curl up in a ball on the ground and sob
for the lives I can't lead
for the lovers who are gone
for the dreams that have passed.
In relief, in gratitude
for the lives I have led
for the lovers who have stayed
even a short while
for the dreams, always present
always pushing
always nurturing.
For the light of a new day,
The one true thing.
From Facebook: "Scrambled up slickrock, bluebird sky, more hydrology tutorials, astragalus and a white composite, Miguel's Baja Grill, a near full moon, and a visit with an old friend=24 perfect hours in Moab."
And finally, dateline Bryce Canyon:
Jim, my excellent travel partner on passing me on the trail to the rim just after sunrise: "Oh, you missed it," meaning the sunrise. Me, contemplating the Known World: "I didn't miss a thing."
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