What an odd name for fizzy pleasure.
Pink and blue makes purple
And white foamy bubbles.
Water not too hot
But quite hot enough.
A calming, clean scent
With a hint of slickness to oil my skin.
Escape.
Quiet escape.
A place to lie still
Until the water cools just enough
To warrant another torrent of hot H2O.
While my husband and I were hiking a bike trail yesterday afternoon, we passed through a marina where boats are stored during the winter months while they wait for warmer weather. We spied three decrepit old houseboats, long past their prime, at the far end of a gravel lot and just knew we had to take a closer look.
Here’s the view of some frayed rope attached to one of the boats and a deck chair on the upper level of the boat sitting there next to it. I highly doubt anyone will be scrambling up top to enjoy the warming rays of the sun anytime soon.
I’m trying – without success – to imagine the series of events leading to the placement of these wicker chairs shown here.
Were the elements, harsh Iowa winter winds or a summer storm, to blame for this broken glass? An accident of some kind when the waves caught someone off-balance? Or something more sinister perhaps?
Is there anything more pathetic than the thought of someone still making monthly payments on this old vessel: land-locked, rusted, never to experience the taste of lake water again?
And yet, I’m sure these once buoyant vehicles – in their heyday – brought much joy and satisfaction to their owners. Families and friends enjoying an afternoon on the lake, tipping back a few, relaxing, living life to its fullest. If so, despite their present state, they will have fulfilled their purpose.
Effective March 15th, I become a Free Woman. I am retiring!! More time to pursue photography, crochet, Adventures in Cooking, Adventures in Baking, hiking, biking, writing and blogging. No pesky office job to interfere with beautiful days perfect for driving along back roads to snap photos such as this or to explore the latest art exhibits or to cultivate container herbs and spices out on the deck. Early morning walks, reading in a comfy chair sitting in the sun with a hot chai or cup of tea, lazy afternoons relaxing with a few gel pens and a coloring book, getting up close and personal with bike trails, state parks, museums and music events, plays, wineries, binging on Netflix — the opportunities are countless and oh, so far-ranging!
A friend who retired a few years ago told me the first thing she did was to catch up on her sleep. So that might just be an option as well. It’s an overused phrase but, truly, this will be a whole new chapter. I began working in my early 20’s and aside from semester breaks as a non-traditional student, the last time I truly had time just for me was, well, probably never!
The countdown in days (not months!) starts NOW….
Your assumptions are your window on the world. Scrub them off every once in awhile, or the light won’t come in. ~ Isaac Asimov
I am a seeker of delicious new words.
Old and decrepit to some, perhaps
But well-suited at times when nothing else will do.
Words that have long graced many a page (or conversation) but are newly discovered and now mine to make use of as I see fit.
Words can be fanciful, ornate, economical and stout. Even exotic.
Chunky, elegant, gregarious, preposterous or ill-fitting.
It’s the manner of speaking them, using them to convey thoughts, ideas, emotions.
Or in how they are written, often beautifully, sometimes awkwardly, to illustrate an action, a theme, a person, place or event.
I am a seeker of scrumptious new worlds.
Havens of comfort, thresholds of inspiration, venues of wonder.
Environments to stimulate thought or to aid in the cessation of an uncomfortably constant stream of mental chaos and angst: a refuge.
Color and light and nature: birthplaces of history, art, literature, religion and countless cultures and civilizations.
Places, both ingress and egress, that bear witness to human growth and development.
And sadly – and far too frequently – human destruction, as well.
I am a seeker of peace, of harmony, well-being and community.
Searching out the best in others, and myself.
This, first and foremost…
Mindful, always, that this is a continuous process. A task never quite finished.
I am a seeker of the here and now. I choose, simply, to be.
Faulty faculties
My eyes and ears.
Thanks to a laser-like focus
My world now sparkles.
As for my hearing
Not so much.
There is no ‘one and done’
In that department.
Rather
A mere device
Instead of a permanent
No Hassle Solution.
While sometimes flustered
I am content.
Oh.
And have I mentioned I have full use of my arms and legs?
Yes. I’m quite lucky indeed.
Earlier this month our central Iowa metro community was rocked – and is still reeling – over the senseless killings of two police officers, both of whom were ambushed while sitting in their patrol cars one evening. Blue ribbons of solidarity have cropped up everywhere as people struggle with their grief, wishing to convey both their own sense of loss as well as their support for the families of these two public servants.
We awoke one morning to find this shimmery blue ribbon tied around the oak tree in our front yard and saw that the neighbors’ trees, stop signs and light poles on our street were similarly adorned.
I don’t know who performed this bit of communal magic but their token of good will has not gone unnoticed – or unappreciated.
Some things change a person. My world now, the one I currently wish to inhabit, has closed in a few degrees. An aperture akin to f/22, a tighter opening, a more focused vision on those things in my life that have greater meaning than the shallow, arbitrary, fleeting approval subject to the whims of, well, whatever and whoever is trending at the moment.
Doing, seeing, observing, walking, dancing, grooving, creating, laughing, reading, cooking, baking, savoring, contemplating.
Being.
These are the delights with which I wish to fill the hours of my days, not the eyestrain of a blinking, blinding computer screen.
Inspiration rather than exasperation. Exhilaration vs. mere existence. Living vs. dying.
It’s difficult to imagine anything more beautiful, more invigorating, more uplifting than the glow of autumn-induced sunshine. Last week I walked through the woods at midday and was delighted with the dreamy, mellow light sifting through the trees and foliage. These benches here, haphazardly arranged in a small clearing, were soaking it all in. I was transfixed.
Today, during my lunch break, I took a short stroll around the neighborhood with a clear sky overhead and a mildly vigorous breeze. The air felt fantastic and the sun’s warming rays enveloped and caressed both my body and my mood. Truly, I did not want to go back inside. Oh, how retirement beckons!
A Sawyer's Daughter 
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