Back Home from N.O.

We had a great time in Louisiana. We flew into New Orleans on Friday and despite the fact that our plane was an hour and a half late and it took an hour at the car rental place, we had a great night in the city, eating dinner at a cozy Cajun restaurant and wandering around the streets for a bit. New Orleans is back to being New Orleans; the streets were packed with people reveling and otherwise carrying on, art galleries and funky antiques shops can be found on every street in great abundance, there are so many great places to eat it was difficult to choose. The architecture in N.O. is gorgeous; so many old buildings dressed up in decorative iron, with long, thin windows their eyes to the world. N and I saw one that appeared to be empty and we stood in the street for awhile fantasizing about buying it and fixing it up into a home/storefront. On a more unfortunate note, the city has experienced a rise in crime as of late, but we did not encounter any ruffians in search of money for drugs or anything else while we were touristing the streets. On Saturday we drove up to see my husband's family, two hours north in Lafayette. We visited several different places while we were there, including an old cemetary where my husband's great-great grandfather, who served in the Confederacy during the Civil War, is buried. I finally got to "meet" N's Grandma, Jeanne, who apparently was quite a character in life and who I wish I'd had an opportunity to meet while she was still on this side of the veil. Our trip home flowed without incident and we got back on Wednesday afternoon. It took all day for us to recover from traveling; even today I feel a bit tired and am tempted to forgo the gym, but I won't. It's nice to be home again. Our kitty missed us, and I'm happy to see life returning to its normal flow. The holidays are wonderful but grueling, and for a Jew the whole Christmas season can be a bit tiring. I hope y'all have a fun and safe New Year's celebration!!!

War is Over???

Wouldn't it be nice if this were true? I don't know where my brother is; he has not spoken to our family in two years due to an argument he had with my stepmother and for all we know he could be in Iraq. He's a Marine who had gotten out early in order to raise his daughter and be home with his young wife, but I believe the stipulation was that he would have to go into the Reserves for two years. We all know what that means-most people in the Reserves end up in Iraq due to the fact that this war has been dragging on for way too long and the military is in desperate need of service people.

We leave for Louisiana this Friday to see Hubby's family for five days. I'm looking forward to spending an afternoon and night in New Orleans and then being out of town for a few days. Florida is wearing a bit thin right now. The rate of violence has skyrocketed here lately, and the criminals seem to have no conscience these days. I know I've written about this before, but it really upsets and disturbs me. I still do not understand the need for murdering an eight year old little girl and her mother at the mall over a few bucks. If you're going to be scumbag and rob someone, at least be responsible enough to wear a mask so they don't have to lose their lives over your selfishness/lazyness/stupidity. Whoever did this WILL be caught, and when they are I hope they don't expect much sympathy from the jury.

On another note, I hope everyone is having and continues to have a happy holiday season. May you all be surrounded by people who love you and be filled with peace, warmth, and the deepest of joy. Shalom!

2 Miles

Well, I did not manage to paint today (yet) but I did accomplish running two miles at the gym today. At first I didn't think much of it, but after I got home I realized that two miles is the furthest I've run to this point in time. I'm happy about that; I only have 1/2 an hour for cardio and 1/2 an hour for weight training so I have to cram whatever running I do into that time slot, so I ran hard for about five minutes at the end of my run and got the two miles. Admittedly, I have lots of work to do, but it's all about progress and making the effort to get out there.

There is lots of holiday madness going on here in South Florida. Recent violent episodes at a nearby mall have taken the "mall wind" out of my shopping sails (not that there was much more than a breeze there before anyway). The most recent attack occurred on a woman with an eight year old daughter; they were found dead in the parking lot at Town Center Mall in Boca Raton and robbery was the suspected motive. Moms with kids are great targets for cowardly thieves who want an easy mark and I am constantly on the alert for suspicious people who might be hovering nearby when we're getting into my car. The problem is that it is impossible to be fully aware of what is going on around you when you're trying to get a three year old to climb into her carseat and then sit still long enough to be buckled in. This danger lurks everywhere-at the supermarket, the library, anyplace we have to go to do anything. I pray that the above killer is caught soon; it is troubling that violence here seems to be on the rise.

Yoram Ranaan

I love this man's artwork, check this out:

http://www.aish.com/societyWork/arts/Yoram_Raanan.asp

I'm floored, awed, inspired.

Art and Other Musings

(Above painting: Paul Gauguin, "Where do we come from? What are We? Where are we going?")

I've been really having the bug lately to paint, to be creative. I know I've written about this in the past but I never seem to have the time time to actually engage in any creative pursuits, and my life is only getting busier as my daughter gets older and Hubster's business grows. This means that it is more crucial then ever for me to find a way to make time for my creative pursuits. I think that one of the more difficult aspects of being a mother and someone's wife is that keeping track of who one is a person in her own right can become difficult. Life is consumed by menial tasks like laundry and cleaning house, and by highly meaningful activities such as cooking with my daughter, playing at the park, and learning the alphabet. The mother of the house needs to be a very strong, supportive individual. Without her strength and positivity the rest of the house very often will fall into disrepair. That is not to say that we can't ever lapse in our strength and lean on our mate-not at all. I've just noticed that when I'm not in a positive headspace, my mate often falls into the chasm of "bad attitude" as well. He often tells me that his own optimism is fueled, in large part, by my own. This means that if I'm in a depression or otherwise in an unhealthy state of being his own state of being is influenced in a negative way.

This brings me back to the necessity of artistic time. I have a painting I have been working on forever. I want and need to complete it, both so that I can give it to the intended recipient and so that I can begin new projects. I NEED to paint in order to be completely healthy and happy. I need this for my own peace of mind and the peace of mind and well being of my family. This may sound extreme, but I'm sure that anyone out there who is a creative sort will understand the need for an artist to create, for a musician to play, for a writer to write. Artists such as Vincent Van Gogh and Frida Kahlo have both said that art was something they needed to do for their survival, the only thing that soothed their minds. Indeed, for me it is the only activity that quiets my mind and puts me back on track. That said, my plan this week is to set aside a few nights a week, beginning this week, to paint. This will be difficult, since by nighttime I am usually tired, but I think that if I can just begin a routine it will become easier as I go along. I can use this blog to tell on myself when I don't keep up on this promise to myself. Wish me luck!

Sniffle Snuffles

Everyone in our house is sick today. Little One came down with a cold on Wednesday, and Hubby and I followed suit soon after. My eyes are so dry they keep blurring when I try to read; I'm having trouble even reading the words on the computer screen. Me thinks it best to get Bebe into bed early and snuggle down under the covers and maybe read or watch some television. Hubby and I are already so tired, and the day/night is clearly shot.

My Mom recently found out that my brother, who has been MIA from the family for about two years, might have been living in California recently. She sent an invitation to him, which was forwarded to a military base in California and then delivered back to her because he was no longer at that location. This is disturbing to me because my brother is in the Marines but got out about two years ago. With this never ending war going on it's possible that he got called back in, and he could be anywhere right now. I don't like the idea that he could be in Iraq right now, getting shot at for the drunken frat boy who has driven this country into a ditch. I can feel a rant coming on so I'll spare everyone and sign off.

No HNT

No HNT today, due to the fact that I didn't have time to take the picture I'd planned. Bebe is still sick, although not as boogery as she was yesterday, and I had errands to run and shopping to do for Hubby's gifts. I went into Target to buy just a few things and ended up spending $100.00. Yikes!!!! That hurt. For those of you living in cold climes, I'm sending you some Florida warmth. I took this picture yesterday morning at sunrise, just outside my front door. I like the look of the silhouetted trees. There was a beautiful moon smiling down on me, which was what inspired me to run inside and get the digital camera, but it didn't translate as well as I'd hoped so I aimed elsewhere. Yesterday's picture shows the moon and, I think, Venus, but it appears so tiny in the shot that the feeling is lost. I'm heading off to bed; I can't think of anything witty or interesting to type.

2nd Night and a Christmas Dilemma

Tonight is the second night of Hanukkah. I have dinner simmering on the stove and in a little while we'll eat and have our second night of Hanukkah happiness. I was hit with an issue today, though, and one that has been coming up more and more often as our daughter gets older and understands or at least notices more about the things she sees. She has arrived at the stage of questioning and her mind is very impressionable, and I'm careful about what I tell her right now, careful about the shows that are playing on the t.v. when she is still awake at night. A couple of months ago Hubby was invited by his church to a Christmas Pageant. It's supposed to be a hugely popular affair and at first I didn't see anything wrong with us going as a family. I was told it would be great fun for Bebe, that there would be animals involved, etc. Today I checked the website and discovered that the event is put on by a local Baptist church and that due to the length of the show (2 1/2 hours) and the content of the show (the show is about the entire life of Jesus, including the crucifixion, which I am not so sure I want my daughter watching at the tender age of 3) the show is recommended for children 4 and above. There is no way my daughter will be able to sit through this show, and, as a Jewish mother, I'm not so sure it's an appropriate show to take her to in the first place. Now I feel like the bad guy. Although I advised my husband that I didn't think we would be able to attend due to the time involved and the fact that our daughter can't even sit through a cartoon movie, let alone a Broadway style play, the fact is that the content bothers me as well.

Sooo..now it's about an hour later. Dinner is done, my husband went out and I'm not sure if he went to the show or to a regular guy's meetup that he sometimes attends on Wednesday nights. He was upset about us not attending the show as a family and now I'm hit with the "what if" guilts. What if our daughter would have loved the show, if she, by some miracle, sat through the whole thing and loved it, and now I'm depriving her of that experience? What if we went and all had a great time? What if this? What if that? It seems this was a no win situation. Although I know in my heart that Bebe would never have sat through the production, I feel guilty that we didn't go. In my heart, I know that I wasn't sure I wanted Little One watching the story of Jesus's life, even though I don't have anything against Jesus, just the Christianized interpretation of who he was. I don't have any problem with someone else believing in the Christian faith either, but I'm uncomfortable with taking our Jewish daughter to a show that has been lauded online as a program that has driven many to the faith of Christianity. Do I want to attend a show that's main goal is really to proselytize? The fact that I'm so upset about this really drives into the heart of my own love of Judaism; suddenly I'm super Jewish or something. **Abundant sighs.** Confused by some things, I am, but I know what I'm not. And, I know what my daughter is not. I just don't always know the right road to take with all of this parenting/wife stuff.

First Night

Tonight is the first night of Hanukkah. We don't have anything super exciting planned, but we kind of like it that way these days. Sure, it would be nice to have some family around with whom to eat dinner and exchange gifts, but that isn't possible this year so we'll just have our own little family holiday experience. I'm going to make dinner (I was banished to the upstairs while Hubby wraps my gift and so took advantage of some blogging time) and then we'll light the first candle and give Bebe her first gift. She poked her little head into the laundry room earlier today and spied me wrapping one gift. I wasn't aware of her presence, but suddenly I heard a tiny voice say, "Hey, what's that Dora present?" I think that when it comes time to celebrate I'm going to turn Hubby's cell phone off. What is it with people making business calls at dinnertime? To me, it's so rude. I don't ever call people during dinner hours, although I do realize that dinnertime hours vary from household to household.

I've posted at different times about the spiritual path I walk, and how it, at times, separates greatly from any one solid organized religious way. I feel so strongly pulled toward my Celtic roots that it's hard for me to completely look away from them when it comes to how I connect with a Higher Power. That said, I am also intensely happy to be a part of the Jewish people. I might not be the "best Jew" around, I might not live my life in a completely kosher way, I might not believe everything Judaism tells me, but I love being Jewish just the same. Maybe someday I will completely walk the path of Judaism. I did recently find a book in a catalogue about how Judaism is connected with the wilds of nature and that interested me. To me, any sort of spirituality has to come from what's "out there": in the woods, on the beaches, in the wild grasses of mountain meadows, in the swampiness of the everglades, in the sparkling northern snowfalls. I do feel close to both my Irish roots and my Dutch Jewish ones; I need to celebrate them both, but maybe one day I'll find a way to accomplish that within the boundaries of Judaism. Right now, I'm where I'm at today, and I'm happy today with that!

Tired, Tired, Tired

I'm almost completely wiped out this evening. This morning I went to the gym for my first real workout in a long time. I dropped Little One at the child care center (which was a bit traumatic for me in itself since I've never left her anyplace like that before-my daughter was unphased and actually was excited to be there), got my bearings around the locker room, and proceeded to the workout area itself. I ran almost 2 miles on the treadmill, which I was happy about considering that it's been a long, long time since I've run. When I had about 7 minutes left to go my magazine fell onto the treadmill and flew back onto the floor. I'm grateful that I didn't go flying off the treadmill as I watched it whiz away, and even more grateful that it didn't hit anyone. After that I did some leg work ,some crunches, and then made my way back to the locker room. This is where I had a bit of trouble. It's embarassing to admit to this, but I'd envisioned the showers to be like the ones they offer at campgrounds. The ones at the gym offer much less privacy; they're somewhat private, but not as much as I would like. The woman I spoke with told me they don't have a curtain, and that she puts up a towel. I guess they kind of curve around so it's not that bad, but when I poked my head into the shower area the first sight to hit my eyes was a woman walking around stark naked and that was it for me. I grabbed my things and went to the "family locker room" which offer slightly more privacy, but less fancy dressing areas and, I think, maybe smaller showering stalls. I'm embarassed to admit that I'm this shy when it comes to other people seeing me sans clothing, or seeing other people that way, but I was mortified. Maybe I was just taken by surprise. I mean, I used to take drawing and painting classes with nude models and it never phased me much, aside from the time my then boyfriend decided to become one and posed for the class I was in. I will admit to leaving the class the first day he modeled for us because I couldn't stop giggling. It was like this fit of immature laughter; I couldn't hold it back. Also, I've been to strip clubs (only about three times-I swear!) and watched girls dance and didn't think much about them being naked aside from, wow, she's beautiful, or something like that. As far as the gym showers, I suppose I'll get over my sudden phobia; it was my first day there, and I'm not really used to public bathing areas or leaving my daughter with strangers. For now, I'm a little bit sore and very tired. I have coffee waiting downstairs to help me get through the dinner rush, and then I'm going to get Little One into bed and crash myself.

Early HNT

I just joined our family up at the local YMCA today. I'm really excited, because the facilities there are fantastic and they have a wonderful gym, which means Hubby and I can start working out again. I enjoy running and working out and am hoping that doing so once again will help my ever fluctuating mental state. It's not that my mental state is all that horrible, but I definitely need to get my blood pumping a bit so that my endorphins can kick back into gear. Also, I need to get back into shape. Before baby I was running a mile in the mornings; after she was born I never got back into a routine. Well, that's not really true. I did work out for a few months in the gym we had at the old apartment, but once we moved I no longer had a gym at my disposal. It has taken us several months to finally make the decision to join one, after agonizing on a daily basis about how out of shape we've become and how it's the worst shape either of us has ever been in, yada, yada, yada. I've always been thin, and the extra fat around my middle from having the baby has got to go. It's just a little bit, but it's the difference between hip huggers that fit and ones that are a little bit too big because my hips have no excess fat on them but my waist has just a little too much. Sometimes I envy girls like Kate Moss, although I always loved the curvaceous, Marilyn Monroe types so much more!!!!

Say Hello to The Muscovy Duck

Recently, some Muscovy ducks have claimed residence in our back yard. My husband detests them; I'm kind of ambivalent. I generally love most wildlife and the ducks don't really bother me. Little One and I even fed them yesterday because they wandered onto our patio and were helping themselves to my plants (which is something which I am NOT agreeable to). When I first moved to Florida I found these ducks to be quite frightening in appearance. My home state boasts those cute little mallards that were featured in the book "Make Way for Ducklings" and the Muscovies looked to me like something resulting from a nuclear power plant accident. They are not native to Florida but are somewhat protected by anti animal cruelty laws, which means that no one can legally harm them but, if they are so inclined, may capture them and keep them as pets. This particular duck was sleeping on my patio this morning beneath our cat palm. I woke him up taking these pictures and was rewarded by a flip of his tail and a splotch of poop on the stones. This is the aggravating thing about having such ducks around; they poop everywhere, which seems to me to be not the least bit healthy for us. After the duck left I found myself out back hosing the stones off (not so bad since having to do so reminded me to water my plants...). One thing I know for sure is that Muscovies have no cooth.

Children in Our Adult World

It seems to me lately that this world we live in is growing ever more impatient with childhood; people are becoming more and more self centered and less willing to slow down their own hectic pace to permit those of us who don't want to spend our days running like a gerbil on a wheel some allowance of time. I'm as busy as the next person, sometimes I feel I'm more busy than most; indeed, I have much less free time now than I did when I worked at a law office full time and didn't have a family to care for. But, the time I spend now is more meaningful to me. Gone are the days of endless stacks of paperwork. They've been replaced by piles of laundry, cooking utensils, new stacks of paperwork for my husband's business, toys strewn across the floor, and craft projects. I still have the occasional business telephone call to make or take, but working with my husband brings me much more satisfaction than working for someone else, because we're working on goals together, on jobs which can directly effect the course of life as a family will take. But, I digress.

One of the reasons I'm considering homeschooling for my daughter is that I'm dissatisfied with the way schools have changed. Kids are coming home with more homework than ever, leaving them little time for personal activities or just plain leisure time (which everyone needs in order to re-group). This past year the schools decided to resume in August, which created an uproar from parents who'd planned family vacations during time when their kids were being told they had to go back to school. Call me crazy, but I think there is little precious time for family as it is, and I believe that's part of the problem with children today. I applauded the parents who decided to take those vacations anyway; kids will remember the great time they had with Mom and Dad visiting the mountains, camping in the woods, etc. and the experiences they have on those trips might help make them into better people-life is all about the experience! Family vacations can create priceless memories which will last a lifetime for children and parents alike. I don't think many of us have fond, priceless memories of math class. Or of any class, for that matter. This is not to say that education isn't important. It's extremely important. I'm a firm believer that quantity does not quality make, however. Taking art, music and physical education (although I have to interject here that I hated gym class) away from our children (and aren't these always the activities that seem to be cut out?) does not help them to grow into well rounded, interesting adults. The two classes that saved my sanity in school were art and literature. Indeed, art was the subject that prompted me to attend college. Without my art classes, and the wonderfully crazy man who taught them, I would have been lost and bored in High School.

Last night at the mall a woman scowled at my daughter because she bumped into her. My daughter is three years old and certainly it was not her intention to slow this woman down. Her little legs were busy running with me trying to catch up with Hubster, who had plowed far ahead of us with the baby carriage, lost in his own thoughts of getting home. I will acquiesce that this woman was tired from an evening of shopping, but I'm still annoyed by the fact that most people these days seem to be so centered on their own thoughts and interests that having to momentarily slow down to allow for the stumble of a small child makes them angry. My thoughts wander to a story I read about a woman being escorted off an airplane because her young child wouldn't stop talking. Is our world so hurried, are the things we're doing so important that we can't allow for the chatter of a toddler???

On a final note, I'd like to say this. When you insult, emotionally abuse, or reject my child, you reject and hurt me as well. If you push my child out of your way, expect that I will react as if you'd pushed me. While I try to walk the path of peace, I'm tiring quickly of living in a world where our needs as adults often surpass the needs of our children, and the needs of children in the world at large (I'm thinking right now of this ongoing mess of a war, in which innocent children are being killed, probably more often than CNN is telling us about). The lyrics "What might save us, me and you, is if the Russians love their children too.." from Sting's 80's hit rings in my ears. What might save us in this rushed, hurried, messed up world is caring about what we're leaving behind for our children, and/or the children of others or believing that all children are our children and treating them as such. Maybe sometimes it's good to slow down, to stop what we're doing so that we can see that we're trampling the feet of a little person who's beliefs about people just might be formed, in part and in some way, by how we're treating him/her in the moment. Children are beautiful, and they have the ability to teach us so much about ourselves, if we'll only put the cell phone/remote control/newspaper/shopping cart aside long enough to listen to what they have to say.

Saturday Saturday Saturday

I feel a bit better today, although this morning I was stressed out almost to tears by the fact that there never seems to be a single day that goes by without some sort of work involved for the business. During the week it's great; I like to be busy and am grateful that we have work at a time when so many people are slow. When Saturday comes, however, I need the break. In spite of my Celtic leanings, I am also Jewish. Saturday is a special day, a day when work is supposed to cease and one can take a breath and pause from all of the hecticness of the week. I need one day to step back, to not have to change or mold anything, to not have to engage in tasks which frustrate or upset me. Last night I lit both the Sabbath candles and my special triple candle configuration which symbolizes the hearth in Irish culture. I like to light it in the morning before my meditation time and to light it and blow it out at night, saying a short blessing with regard to the hearth fires keeping us warm and safe through the night. I usually think of the Goddess Brighid when I do this; it gives me a sense of peace and safety to go through this ritual, and my daughter loves lighting and blowing out the candles. On some symbolic level, all of the candles looked really pretty this morning set up together on the table, the two tall white Sabbath pillar candles behind the three red votives. Sometimes I will re-light the Sabbath ones on Saturday, since we rarely have time to let them burn down completely on Friday night. I'm trying to find some balance with my spirituality-a way to honor all the different parts of my ancestry. I guess for most people Judaism and Paganism wouldn't really go together, but I believe we all need to follow the path which feels right within our hearts.

We're going to a concert tonight-I think it to see Bob Weir's band but I'm not sure. I'm game for anything that involves dancing and listening to good music!

Blech!

Just when I'm feeling a little better, out of the depression and in a positive frame of mind, some butthead has to come along and kill my buzz. This morning my phone rang. It was the landlady which is not usually a good sign. We have a wonderful, hands off landlady who doesn't bother us with anything unless she has a dire situation. That said, this morning's news was not good. The situation with the management company for the condo has reared it's ugly head again; they sent her a nasty legal letter with regard to our not being leased in properly and now the saga is pushing forward into who knows what territory. I have to round up all of our paperwork ONCE AGAIN and fax it to some nasty lawyer who doesn't really care about anything except billing for as much time as possible (and every peice of paper that crosses his desk means more time billed. I know this because I used to work for a law office). This whole situation is so ridiculous and just proves my theory that too much power given to any one authority will mean that at some point that power will be used to make someone else feel more important. There is really no reason to hassle us to the extent that we are being hassled. We have been at our current residence for a FULL YEAR. During that time, we have paid our rent early or on time every month, have done improvements to the unit and have experienced no difficulties with anyone aside from the drunken chick who lives across the street (who has a problem with anyone who looks at her, apparently). I wish we could just pull up out of here but it will be so difficult. Moving costs a great deal of money and we are going out of state for the holidays, so moving right now would, to say the least, be a difficult and trying ordeal. So, here I am on this sunshiny, cool, glorious day consumed by fear; fear of getting thrown out of here by some douchebag who doesn't know us and doesn't care to know us, fear of having to somehow find a new place to move and pull up our roots once again, fear of the possibly terrible unknown. Of course, being in this fear means that I have completely moved away from faith, but it has been my experience that sometimes we have to go through much awfulness even when our tribulations are happening because the Great Spirit has a better plan for us. I have many many things to do today and I don't feel good-I woke up with a stomach ache that isn't showing any signs of departure. I am not in the mood to resume this ongoing hassle with these self-important losers. I mean, there are 38 units in this development for sale-none of them are selling. Real estate here is very slow, people are in trouble with their mortgages (our neighbors, who we love, had to move out because they could no longer afford to pay their mortgage), foreclosures are imminent for so many people right now. I would think that having someone at least occupying a unit, taking care of it, and keeping the owner in a position of being able to hold onto it would be better than having an empty foreclosure which just sits here uncared for, making the community look crappy. But that's just me.

Back Home

Okay; I'm getting seriously aggravated with the pictures attached to my posts disappearing. I'm going to have to start using more of my own pictures, I guess. This is a pain because I have little time to upload photographs, but the good news is that I have tons of pictures because I'm a freak with my camera.

On another note, the camping trip was good. I love camp coffee on a cool morning, the stars were amazing. We camped next to a creek; at night the mist rolled across the water and the stars twinkled against a deep velvety backdrop of night sky. I'd forgotten how many stars there are in the night sky, which is a sad statement about how much light pollution has robbed those of us living in cities from the glorious hobby of lying on the ground and just dreaming at the sky with a friend or loved one (or both). N and I took a boat ride down Fisheating Creek on Sunday and it was serenely beautiful. We did meet up with an alligator, which set my heart to racing as I am not fond of alligators when they are in close proximity. While my rational mind tells me that, as a general rule, alligators are not any more fond of being close to humans as I am to them, the other part of my mind races to those stories about people getting snatched into the water while standing by the side of Florida lakes and ponds. Nasty buggers, those alligators.

We camped with another couple. The husband is someone we already knew and he was cool. He's very into the outdoors, the sort of fellow who can name a bird just by hearing the call. In the middle of the night on Saturday we heard the hoot of an owl (so cool). In the morning when I described the hoot to him he was able to discern that the owl was a Great Horned Owl. I checked his bird field guide, and, sure enough, Great Horned Owl it was! I'm not sure his wife liked us, and that was a bit uncomfortable. My husband and I both have a rather layed back demeanor and tend to get along with most people. His wife, well, I'm not sure about her. She didn't seem to want to engage with us, barely even talking to our daughter. Our daughter is three and extremely cute (other people tell me this, so forgive my apparent gloating) and hardly anyone can resist interacting with her. I suppose if she didn't enjoy our company that was her problem, not ours. We had fun in spite of the unpleasantness of the situation between our camping companions. (There is much more to this situation than I will post here due to the sensitive nature of the subject.) Our neighbor was a rather nice older man, a veteran who visits this campground often. He was camping alone, knew our campmates, and spent lots of time hanging out by the fire with us, beer in hand, lending a happy air to our temporary residence grounds.

Now we're home again. Little One has gymnastics today, so I'm off.

Goin' Campin'!

I spent a good chunk of the afternoon today in the woods with Little One and it was wonderful. I did a bit of spirit work while I was out there, as I've been in a place of deep melancholy and needed to get out of that. There is nothing like walking in the woods to bring a person back into a better frame of mind. My attitude changes when I'm around lots of trees! We started out on the longer trail first (we were at a nature conserve); I walked it while Little One rode in her carriage. Then we took the shorter trail, along which she walked on her own, picking up colorful leaves (yes, we did find some fall colored ones, even here in Florida!) and sticks, and checking out the various flowers, mushrooms and wildlife. She accidentally touched a bright orange fungus that was growing out of the side of a fallen tree limb and pulled back in shock at it's squishiness-the look on her face was one of shock and amazement. Later in the day we placed the leaves she found between two peices of wax paper and I ironed it to seal them inside. Now we have a wall hanging to commemorate our day! A good day it was.

We are going camping for a few days, leaving tomorrow afternoon. We bought some supplies and such tonight and will pick up more food once we get up there. We are all very excited, as we love camping but don't get to go too often. So many of the months here are too hot to camp out, and Hubby has difficulty getting away from work because he's the boss and always has too much to do to be able to leave town. I hope y'all have a fantastic long weekend. Be safe and well!

Back Again

I prayed to hear the Song of the World and find that within it I hear a great deal of sadness.

I stumbled upon a blog last night by a man who is deeply unhappy and contemplating suicide. He was sending his thoughts into the blogosphere, maybe just hoping that someone would hear, would listen, would understand. I noticed that no one had responded and so wrote my own message. Drawing on my own struggles with the evil demon of depression, I attempted to help him make sense of what he is feeling, to maybe, in some way, ease his pain a bit by listening. I don't know if any of what I wrote helped him, if he understood that I truly have been in that place of despair which he is now inhabiting, although in a different form of existence, for sure. I can't fully understand his pain because I don't live in his body or in his mind. I don't know if he just thought I was full of b.s. I hope not. I searched for his blog tonight but couldn't locate it again. I was very tired when I came upon it last night and didn't mark the page. I hope that he

is okay tonight. Funny how words on a page can effect us so deeply.

I hear the Song of the World and I join in the Song...

Blahdy Blahdy Blah

For whatever reason, I have been in a melancholy mood for the past three days. I just can't seem to shake it for any duration of time. I can shake it off for a couple of hours, but then it returns again, knocking me into the blue again. I took Little One the Arts Park near our home today. It's an old park in the center of Hollywood that's been renovated to the point that it's almost unrecognizable as the old park. This is a good thing; the park as it was before was okay, but mostly just attracted homeless people and squirrels. I recall having lunch there once when I worked at a nearby office building and fearing for my life (those squirrels can be vicious). Anyway, we had a good time. Bebe played with some other kids there and we had fun on the playground equipment, which is really a sort of functional artwork- mounted discs that spin around, cat tails made out of flexible metal with stands toward the bottoms, a rope tree. The park also offers a sprinkler system that the kids can run around in when it's hot, as well as gorgeous landscaping and a new, quite large fountain. Being there lifted my spirits. I felt great until we had to venture out of the park again, into society. Our trip to the closest grocery store was almost frightening-characters of all description wandering about the isles. Back on the street, things weren't much better. For all of the re-building, painting and sprucing up that's being done to make Hollywood more attractive to potential businesses and residents, so much of the scene is the same. Maybe the mood I'm in is coloring my perception, but I don't think so. Being kind of a freaky, artsy chick, I like kind of freaky, artsy people, but that's not the type of people who are walking around the area, for the most part. I'm not exaggerating when I say that some of the people I saw in the grocery store looked like escaped inmates from some nearby insane asylum- the walking dead and the half crazed. To make matters worse, on my way home while I was stopped at the train tracks some big headed jerkoff started trying to inch by me in his SUV to turn into a local business. Apparently, he thought it was worth hitting my car just to get into the place a second sooner. Aggravated that he couldn't wait the half second until I could move forward and let him go by, I turned around and let him know just how annoyed with him I was. I'm glad he didn't hit my car, but I had to stop myself from pulling into the parking lot and telling him what a fat headed ignoramous I thought he was after I heard him call me an insulting but not very creative name. Sighs upon sighs. I think that after I give Little One a bath and we all eat dinner I should go to bed.

The Past Re-Visited

Watching old love ones crash and burn is never an easy or pleasant experience. Thus was the case tonight, as I talked with my ex from four years ago and listened as he told me about what has been going on in his life as of late. He'd been with the same girl for quite some time and had a child with her, a very cute little boy. Then, she became pregnant again, which created a situation of much fear and stress, yada yada yada. I don't know the whole story, of course, but now she's gone and he's freaking out and it's become a very volatile situation for him. She's out of the country but he's become a raving lunatic and I'm concerned for his safety and the safety of everyone around him. Of course, it's none of my business these days. I have my own family and my own life and what is happening in his life is not my responsibility or direct concern anymore. Still, I can't help but worry a bit, even if it's in silence. I know people who have broken up with a significant other never to think of them in a kind way again. I could never understand this. I mean, unless the break up involves some really horrible circumstance, how can you stop caring about the person? It isn't really healthy for me to think about my ex's current predicament too much, and I won't dwell on it, but I hope that life turns around for him. It's sad when we don't learn enough from past mistakes not to repeat them. I got a second chance at a family and I'm grateful. Every day I try to work on my own character defects (with varying degrees of success) so that I can be a good partner and a good Mom. It's so important to me to give my all in my family life. I hope that, for me, that will be enough-the willingness to grow and the ability to to the same.