Tuesday, September 24, 2019

Transitioning into Fall

“And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.”

From: Ode to Autumn by John Keats



Many friends look forward to the end of summer and the cooler temperatures. Fall is a warning that it’s going to be cold. Winter is on the way. It’s like a yellow light telling us to prepare to stop.

Or shop…for Christmas, before the bad weather and crowds make it difficult. 

A time when I’m not sure I’ll need a sweater, but should take one anyway. The leaves change and most of them are blown down the street. Frightening Halloween decorations fill store shelves and spiced pumpkin lattes are the rage at the coffee house. Restaurant menus reflect the harvest with less salad and more soup.

It’s a time to let go of open-toed shoes and sleeveless tops. I hang up my beach towel and fold away swimsuits. It’s getting darker and the days end faster. Instead of evening rays of light, we turn on lamps. Instead of outdoor activities, we turn towards cooking, reading, crocheting, sewing, television and computer games. The sky is bluer than ever and yet the forecast is a calculated cornucopia of various predictions. The world does a quick-change backstage for the third act, exactly like a star!

Even the birds fly faster. They make their nests. I hear them communicating as if to say they are making progress. Maybe this year I will embrace this amber-hued transition with the same joy as the flock outside my window.  It’s not just about their nests. They are pulling me in, making sure I notice how hard they work. They entertain, spread their wings and chirp. I’m pretty sure they want me to love this season as much as they do. Shamed into the truth, I have no excuses.

Wednesday, September 18, 2019

Fiona Memoriam






Heal the intangible heart?
Real tears,
virtual tears,
streams of salt water--
flow over your soul.
You gasp for air
watching gold fly
through the air.
Small hairs
land softly.
Once a reason to grab a vacuum
now a twinkling memory.

Hide her toys,
wash away her delightful smell?
Stop looking at photos.
Talk about the weather?
She is there--
forever in your heart.
She licks from the inside.
Kissing and playing—
Jumping, running and wagging her tail.
Again, you gasp.
She will never leave.
You might as well vacuum.





Wednesday, September 4, 2019

Intangible Grace



There are times the universe will ask you do something in return. Perhaps as payment for the sunny days, the healthy days, the perfect days.

Your resolve doesn’t waver during these times. You focus and follow through and accomplish what is needed with a flourish and a smile.

Later, as all of it comes together and rises to fruition, you wonder how the heck it happened. What made you do it? How in the world was all of it possible?

Your eyes pop open in the middle of the night and you realize this is beyond your doing. You are merely a stronger tool displaying as much grace as possible. A cog in a mighty wheel. A note in a song. A drop of rain in a bucket.


This Saturday, The Legends of Wildomar-Tall Tales will be acted out on stage at Le Grand Playhouse. I wrote one third of the play and two of the songs. I put together the program, had them printed, folded each one by hand with my husband and sister.  I also tried to encourage sponsorship's and inspired my family members to participate. I hung up posters in the park that blew away in the wind.  Since one actor dropped out, I’m double cast! The director wants me to be funnier. I’m expected to change into boots, chew on hay and know my lines. Huh?

The address is 16275 Grand Ave., Lake Elsinore. The play will be on September 7th and also on the 14th. Tickets are $10 and are available by going online to BRICK or at Facebook events at: https://www.facebook.com/events/2396311220655774/ .
All the ticket proceeds will be going to BRICK, which stands for Brain Research in Cancer Kids which is an affinity of Rady’s Children’s Hospital.

BRICK was started by a family with a toddler, named Les. His grandmother is a friend of mine. Les had a brain tumor that changed his life. He endured countless hours in the hospital, surgeries, radiation, chemotherapy and pain. Most of those things began over 16 years ago.

This Saturday, I am honored and humbled to hear that Les and his parents, will be taking tickets at the door. This is not a tall tale and I have no words.