As Promised . . . Halloween Pics

Since everyone has been clamoring for Halloween pics . . .



The one and only time in my life I wore pink. . .



T. is sporting a genuine yuukata that I purchased during my short visit to Japan. A yuukata looks much like a kimono, but is a much simpler article of clothing - especially since donning a genuine kimono (for females, at any rate) involves the assistance of at least two other individuals.



Behold the cuteness!

Warm Fields

I cannot enjoy my Life –
when, each morning,
I am greeted
with a small discourtesy.

I can See by the thin light
of your promise –
(kin to the mountain Sun
that shines bright
but, Cold) -
yet cannot live.

Modern convention tells me –
I must avert my face, demurely
swallow my discontent.

But, I yet remember the Warm fields,
where the honey bees drowse,
the sun hammers
the tension from your muscles –

dandelions cast their seeds
over rolling green meadows,
over hills,
their brows heavy with bells,
on the wind.

I will not find my way,
to those distant fields
by following the trail of my own sighs.

I blow softly on the seeds.
I swallow the wind.

Not my best work . . . but it gives you peeps something to read!

My Current Excuse for Non-Blogginess

A friend loaned me a book called "Devil in the White City" - which she plans on shipping off to her father once I finish reading it. She gave it to me first because I am usually a speedy reader - so I am trying to live up to that reputation. A book about the building of the World's Fair and the life of a serial killer . . . hmmmmmm. Maybe not the best pre-bedtime reading material (half of it puts me to sleep - and the other half will probably keep me awake at night :P).

On another note, I officially signed up for NanoWriMo, and now I need to spend the next week getting the juices flowing for my creative enterprise. I anticipate needing coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.

Not to mention Halloween. And what the heck am I going to take to the potluck parties anyway? Questions best pondered over my lunch break tomorrow.

Have You Hugged Your Sofa Today?

Thanks to the generosity of both my mother and my mother-in-law, I was recently able to purchase an entirely new livingroom set - and apparently I learned something from reading all of those designer magazines. My livingroom now has more furniture in it than it has ever had - and yet, finally feels wide open and beautiful. I admit it . . . I've been hugging my sofa every morning (but LOOK at those pillows! They're awful huggable!).



Of course, the delivery boy from American Furniture scared me half to death. He walked into my house, looked around my miniscule livingroom (my whole house is only 996 square feet), and said, "Now, you realize this is a BIG couch."

We measured. I knew we measured. But still, the butterflies began breeding in my stomach.

I watched as they brought the first piece in. They had to rip off all the plastic, remove the pillows and the cushions, and then take it half-way up my staircase and perform the advanced "hold the couch over your head and rotate it forward over a guardrail while praying that a) you don't drop the couch, b) you don't hit the stair guardrail, and c) you don't drop the couch on the guardrail, entertainment center, and other mover" maneuver. Once the couch was safely in the livingroom, it slid in beautifully against my back wall - a perfect fit!

"We're bringing in the second piece," the delivery boy said. Having learned their lesson, they stripped the plastic and pillows off before bringing the next piece in, but it wasn't until they completed the heinous task of getting it over my stair guardrail that I realized there was a problem.

"That looks awful big . . ." I thought, followed by, "It has two arms. Is a chaise lounge supposed to have two arms?" Then, "I think that's a couch. Another couch."

"Umm," I cleared my throat. "Is that a chaise lounge? I ordered a sectional, so it should be the couch and then a chaise lounge. I think they may have given you two couches."

I was suddenly the center of attention. Have you ever had the feeling that everyone is staring at you?

The main delivery boy found my invoice and carefully unfolded it. "Ah," he said. "We, umm . . . should have caught that."

No wonder he thought I was nuts! There was no way TWO eight-foot couches were going to fit in my livingroom!

Luckily we live fairly close to the warehouse, so they were able to run the second sofa back and bring me the proper piece of furniture - which, I might add, slipped into my bay window nook perfectly - making it a usable bay window. The cats have immediately adopted this platform as "theirs" - though I think they'll share it with me when I have a sewing project if I ask nicely.

HOORAY FOR NEW FURNITURE!

Bloggers Block

A few folks have commented that my blogging has slowed down. The reason is simple - my bloggers block can be traced to a simple lack of time. (Okay, okay - so I decided that maybe sleep and 30 minutes of yoga in the morning were slightly more important than blogging. I know. I'm sorry.)

This is a heads up that my blog may be updated a little less frequently as the Holiday Season approaches. In addition to the Holidays, I will be participating in NanoWriMo in November - which means every spare second I have will be spent spitting out the word-count to my novel. Wish me luck! (I debated working on the novel over my lunch break at work - but I'll have to figure out some politically correct way to signal to my attorneys that interruptions will end with some sort of extreme and messy workplace violence. Ideas, anyone?)

In the meantime . . . I have NEW FURNITURE. Happy furniture! Furniture that isn't odds-and-ends-left-over-from-college-furniture (THANK YOU MOM. THANK YOU MOMMY-K.) Furniture that doesn't have slits in the side where the cats can crawl in. I know. I know. A little damage shouldn't matter. But, it is a little disconcerting to be watching a movie and feel something wiggle under your butt. Of course, this leaves me only two days before the new stuff arrives to locate assistance in removing my old furniture.

Umm. . . yeah . . .

I guess this is where planning comes in handy.

If necessary, I think T. has a hacksaw. And on that note - good night all!

Obituary for a Random Pine Tree

When I got home today, something was different. As I pulled into the parking space, some small corner of my brain was worrying at the details . . . until suddenly it clicked.

They cut down the old pine tree next door.

Luckily, our HOA director had warned me they were planning to remove the tree - or it would have been a far nastier shock. Either way, I was sad to see the old tree go - even if its root system was breaking the sprinkler pipes and the pine needles were killing the grass. The trunk was around two feet thick, so the pine tree was most certainly not a sapling. Unfortunately, the brilliant schmuck who originally did the landscaping in our neighborhood apparently overlooked the fact that trees grow - and many saplings were planted less than eight feet from the houses - with predictable results.

Currently, there is a four-foot tall stump in my neighbor's yard - though that too will be removed shortly. On my way out for my evening walk with Ms. Tika, I stopped to look at the exposed age rings and wonder at how old the tree had been. Much to my surprise, I suddenly had the urge to sit down by the stump - to lean my back against it and . . . well . . . simply rest. It was the strangest and most peaceful thing I have done in a long while. (And yes, my mother will be horrified to find out I am one of those people who talk to trees.) The air was thick with the smell of pine sap and fresh-cut wood. The bark was rough against my shoulder blades. And I just sat, observing the night. I thought about how long the pine tree had been growing, and I wondered what it would be like to be stationary, - to watch the world go by. I looked up at the stars, no longer shielded behind its thick branches, and I took a moment to let the tree know that its presence had been appreciated. To acknowledge what had been, what we lost, and yes - even what we gained from the tree's removal.

When I stood up, a feeling of peace and ultimate relaxation came with me. It wasn't until a few blocks later that I discovered another piece of the tree had joined me. My ponytail was stiff with tree sap. I like to think it was a blessing of sorts.

Step 5: Make a Spider-Buddy

In honor of the sharks in Finding Nemo . . .

My day today can be summed up as follows: more cleaning, more spiders. I deep-cleaned the livingroom (which means actually hitting ever surface possible with some type of cleaner) - and I took every plant to the kitchen sink and a) watered it by b) rinsing all the leaves under the faucet. Well . . . all the plants except one dusty Peace Lily. I picked up the base, and a brown spider shot out from under the planter into the water saucer - saw my fingers - interpreted them as something big, scary, and most likely harmful to spiders - and ran back into the plant.

Since he was such a gentleman of a spider (i.e., he ran the other way - rather than down my arm), I decided we could try working out a living arrangement. The agreement is as follows: he lives in the plant and eats the annoying black flies, and I don't smoosh him. If he is found in any area more than five feet from his plant, I smoosh him. If he freaks me out too badly, I smoosh him.

I named him Henry.

And yes, this "adoption" is mostly because I am now afraid to move my plant. But, I was able to scrape up enough courage to peek into the water saucer, and Henry seems to be one of those spiders that builds a little tiny web nest - which he was huddled in. I know I've seen him on the wall at least once before, so I don't think he wanders much.

Of course, after T. reads this post, Henry may disappear mysteriously . . .

And for anyone who thinks the conditions of our living arrangement are a touch harsh - I remind you that winter is fast approaching, and Henry scores a warm place with a ton of fungus flies (yes, those tiny gnat-size black flies that try and fly up your nose are called fungus flies) - and, since I seem to be the spider magnet, has a pretty good chance of meeting a pretty girl-spider in the neighborhood next spring.

Maybe I'll get lucky and she'll eat him.

Window Cleaning a/k/a Spider Dodgeball

I clean my windows twice a year (if they're lucky) - once in the spring, and once in the Fall. T. assures me that EVERYONE gets spiders in the corners of their windows. But, after movig six to eight outside (feel free to imagine me running through the house with a papertowel in my hands going, please don't fall, please don't fall, just hold still, AAAHHHHHHH, CRAP! WHERE DID IT GO???) - and after feeling terrible for crushing five or six to death (mostly accidental - and some mercy killings, since the glass cleaner didn't seem to agree with their system) - I am coming to the conclusion that . . . I won't do windows. Not without figuring out a way to hit them with a highly pressurized jet of water from 20 feet away first at any rate.

T. laughs at me and says I am the only person he knows who goes to such pains to save a critter they are phobic of. I understand that people have spiders in their windows. I accept this. But, why do I seem to have 35 spiders in my window? Is that normal???

Fingerpainting to Facepainting . . . A How-To Guide

Such concentraton from our artist . . .



Hmmmm . . . feels like . . . well . . . like . . . lotion.




Look at those hands! And Mommy is *unwisely* wearing a cashmere sweater.

Curiousity and the Cat

Curiousity may not have killed the cat - but it did cause her to capsize T.'s carry-on size black suitcase (and incidentally, herself) off of his weight bench. After I wandered over and straigtened out the mess . . . shaking my head sadly at the pulverized box-top to one of A.'s puzzles . . . she demonstrated yet another old saying. If you fall off the horse, you should get right back in the saddle. Her little fuzzy fat butt is firmly planted in T.'s suitcase again.

My kitties are definitely not the brightest boos in the box. (And before you say "awww . . . they can't be that bad . . ." TWO YEARS, and they still haven't figured out they can jump the three-foot high baby-gate.)

********
UPDATE regarding The Wild Animal Sanctuary: For those who have not heard, Colorado has an awesome wildlife refuge that takes in abused and abandoned wolves, bears, tigers, lions, and other exotic animals from private owners who are unable to properly care for them.

The news that the Sanctuary was closing was met with an overwhelming response, and as financial donations have poured in, there is now a POSSIBILITY that the Sanctuary may be able to survive. However, the Sanctuary cannot (and should not) commit to staying open unless the public displays a commitment to support them. To this end, the Sanctuary is asking for participation in a PLEDGE PROGRAM – whereby individuals can demonstrate their LONG-TERM SUPPORT by pledging a certain amount per month/paycheck/etc. They also have ADOPT AN ANIMAL programs that function in a similar manner. PLEASE BE A PART OF THE FIGHT TO SAVE THESE BEAUTIFUL ANIMALS!!! Adopt an animal or make a pledge today!

With the Holiday Season approaching, now is a perfect time to make a pledge in the name of a loved one – and give a gift that literally means the difference between Life and Death. What a great opportunity to discuss why we should respect all Life with our children!

The Intricacies of Life

Boy. Nothing makes you ponder the intricacies of Life like avoiding a pedestrian/auto accident - wherein you are driving the vehicle, and the pedestrian is a gentleman propelling himself *backwards* in a wheelchair across four lanes (and a median turn lane) of rush hour traffic.

WHAT IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE?

Day at the Zoo

WARNING: THIS IS A TOTALLY BORING FAMILY-ORIENTED POST. MY LIFE - BROUGHT TO YOU BY THE LETTER "Z" - FOR ZEBRA!

We had passed them hundreds of times before . . . But this time, the penguins were in the water.



Which made them imminently cool. A. has a new favorite animal.



Okay. I admit it. Penguins are cute.



But, my favorite critter is still the Okapi. Zebra meets antelope who apparently went on a bender and slept with a horse.



Here is A. with T. - three seconds before we left the penguin exhibit and A. burst into tears. I know. I'm a terrible parent. I am unsupportive of his budding penguin obsession (and no, he can't keep one in the bathtub). All I can say is - ice cream fixes all.



On the way to ice cream, A. insisted on going rock-climbing. My little frog, preparing to jump. First he headed for a 4-foot high rock - but I managed to literally head that one off at the pass.