Just Before Dawn
You are a blessing each day – here for only a short time before the sun fades away your fairness.
So very quiet you are, dawn. You are the smallest hint of periwinkle blue on the horizon – you know, my bedroom is painted a resemblance of your hue.
Yours is a time that needs no words, where somber reflection and deep thoughts always ensue. As I gaze at the mere suggestion of your arrival above the lake, I cannot help it – I remain entranced by your beauty. You demand and receive my full attention.
Wishing I could hold still this moment in time. Bottle you for my own. To be captured and released at whim, as I desire to see you even more.
Lest I forget, you are my own. The sweetest most mesmerizing moment of every day…
my breaking dawn.
Until the change of time.
Every Rose has it’s Thorn
Since it’s nearing Halloween, I thought I’d share a little non-fiction story with you about the horrors that can occur when you decide to pool resources and get a roommate. Muah-ha-ha-ha…
Seriously though, a person I know is going through one of the hardest times in her life because of this very thing. I’ll call this person Rose.
Rose and her roommate (who I’ll call Thorn) have been friends since they were kids. Having been offered a sweet deal on a townhome from Thorn’s father’s girlfriend, they decided to save a little money and become roommates. It’s a nice enough place, a townhouse condo in a nice area that’s close to both of their workplaces. Each of them brought a cat to the mix, both of which get along fine and play all day. They agreed to split the rent as roommates usually do, even though Rose has brought slightly more to the table as far as furnishings. Rose supplied all the living room furniture, the washer/dryer, barstools, vacuum, most of the kitchen furnishings and much more.
It all started when Rose came home one day from work to find Thorn’s cat had pissed on her bed. In an attempt to nail down the problem, Thorn gets her cat spayed – which didn’t help. For the past week Rose has been shutting the door to her room so Thorn’s cat won’t get in there, now the cat is tearing up the carpet at her door. Just yesterday, she reached the top of the stairs and found where Thorn’s cat had pissed on the carpet there. This has continued to happen even though Rose confronted Thorn on it. You all know what happens if this is allowed to continue… the entire place now reeks of urine.
From the very beginning, Thorn refuses to clean anything. At all. Now cleaning for two, Rose has also discovered that apparently she’s responsible for the costs associated with the cleaning solutions of the house. Bathroom, floor, kitchen, detergents, soaps, you get it. Just yesterday, Rose came home and went to her bathroom where she saw her toilet paper dispenser roll lying empty on the seat where Thorn had seen fit to remove the roll and take to her own bathroom.
I have never. And neither has Rose.
Come to find out, Thorn’s cat is pissing everywhere because Thorn doesn’t see fit to clean it’s litterbox (each cat has it’s own). Even worse… Thorn doesn’t feed her cat, so the cat eats the food that Rose buys for her own cat.
Thorn is not only evasive on any of these issues, but combative in her responses when she does see fit to respond. She answers all questions with another question and has anger management issues. Rose signed a two-year lease on this place (I didn’t know two-year leases even existed?) and now is just sick about doing so.
There should be a code of ethics or something when it comes to co-habitating with a roommate. It doesn’t matter if you’ve known someone all your life or not. I tell myself some things just don’t come to light until the sun comes up and shines on it. Unfortunately by then, it’s too late.
Family Jewels
My solemn vow to never get attached to another reality show = major fail. Oh, how I do love me some Gene Simmons Family Jewels.
I was shocked to learn the show’s been around since 2007. Where the heck have I been?! Honestly, if I’d seen it back then I don’t know if it would’ve held my interest or not. But now… most definitely. It’s a show for all ages – I even know of a 70+ year-young person who enjoys it.
If you’ve never seen it, on the outside it may look silly. On the inside, it’s about a real family with real-life issues. Gene Simmons and Shannon Tweed started out about 28 years ago – back in the days of Playboy Playmates, the Rock & Roll heyday and Kiss tours. Today, they have two terrific kids – Nick, 22 and Sophie, 19. It’s totally unlike me to immediately fall in love with a set of kids like I did with them. They’re both talented, seem wise beyond their years, and bring some very intellectual conversation to the show. Add to that the fact that the whole family is hilarious… and I’m totally buying into it.
Gene and Shannon had 27 years of domestic partnership under their belt but had never married. I’m not the type to bash marriage or lack thereof in this case, because I feel marriage is a personal preference left up to each individual partner. I realize everyone’s preferences are different, and I respect that.
Last night was the episode of their wedding. It was, of course, gorgeous. I also like seeing what all money can buy. Whooo, baby… made my head spin.
There’s something bigger that’s held my interest. Made public on the show were the marital indiscretions that Gene had, and there were many episodes that addressed how the family as a whole dealt with this. Shannon’s pain and the shame of it being made public, how it directly affected their kids, all the work it took as a family through many counseling sessions that were in public view for all of America to see. To me, this is reality TV.
I have an entirely different respect for Gene now. Why? Because he truly manned up. Will Shannon ever be able to forget the past? Of course not. Can she forgive? Absolutely and wholeheartedly, and she finally has. How? Because from the very beginning, Gene took responsibility for his actions. There was much to be worked out in therapy, but he was always a willing participant. Why? True Love. He would do anything and everything to try and repair the damage that he admittedly caused to her and their family. To Gene, there was never an option of letting her walk away and not fighting to keep her. To him, she was well worth the fight of his life to keep.
And, he won. Actually… they all did. 🙂
©aetv.com/gene-simmons-family-jewels
RIP, Dan Wheldon
It was the finale of the year, the Indy race at Vegas Motor Speedway. Little did anyone know how it would end. It was to be a day in which Indy racing would lose one of their very own… english driver Dan Wheldon.
Anyone who follows any type of racing knows what ‘the big one’ means. It translates to worse-case scenario, a bunch of cars getting together – usually with injuries, sometimes even a fatality. Early on in lap 13, the big one happened. There were fifteen cars total, and it was one of the worst wrecks I’ve ever seen. It immediately took me back to 2001 when Dale Earnhardt died in NASCAR’s Daytona 500.
As many others did, Keith and I spent the rest of the afternoon awaiting word on the condition of the most seriously injured driver, Dan Wheldon. Already considered a veteran in the sport at a young 33 years old, he was respected and admired by the young guns. He was a two-time champion of the Indianapolis 500, this year as well as 2005.
When a car gets covered up with tarps after a wreck, you just know it’s not good. The commentators tried to tell the viewing audience at home it was covered ‘to keep all the parts intact’ – their attempt at a diversion. After about an hour we sensed the outcome, from the heavy feeling in our stomachs to the drivers’ faces when they came out of their drivers meeting. They tried hard not to show their emotion, while the media continued their job of shoving cameras in their faces. About two hours after the initial crash, the word finally came that everyone dreaded. Dan Wheldon had passed away from unsurvivable injuries in the wreck.
It was respectfully decided the race would not continue. The emotional drivers requested a five-lap tribute to Dan, which the officials quickly granted. They lined up in perfect formation and drove three-wide for their tribute, while bagpipes played in the background. It was very emotional to any and all who were watching – but I can only imagine how it was for those who knew him.
The speeds these cars reach is nothing short of amazing. I know it can happen… and these men and women know exactly what it is they’re signing up for. Even if you don’t follow racing, a tragedy like this sends a stark reminder that we never know when our day will come. On any given day, any one of us may be the one to get in the car, buckle up, and simply not come back home. We are never promised another day.
May you rest in peace, Dan. You sure had a lot of people who looked up to you.
Dan and his wife, Susie. © tampabay.com
Indianapolis win. © foxsports.com
Dan and one of his two sons, Sebastian © thestar.com
Indianapolis 500 win, customary milk drink. © huffingtonpost.com / AP
Mountain View
We finally made the trip up to Asheville this weekend to visit Biltmore Estate, the largest private residence in America. The mansion itself boggled my mind. It’s still hard for me to come to grips with the sheer magnitude of this place – especially coming from the era in which it was built. Once we cleared the forest and the estate came into full view, that was it – I was officially mesmerized.
- The Biltmore House
Photography is only permitted outside of the house, otherwise I would have some fabulous pictures to share. To me the tour was eerily amazing. I use the word eerie because as I walked through this huge mansion, it’s almost like I could still feel the presence of the Vanderbilts who lived here. I couldn’t help but place myself back in that time, when everything seemed so much simpler – although this most brilliant architecture is anything but simple. I found myself wondering what a normal day consisted of for Mrs. Vanderbilt – what she did after she woke, what she ate for lunch, what she did during the day in that big house, what rooms were her favorites. As I walked through the lush gardens, I imagined her there admiring the beautiful roses. I thought of the grief she must have felt when her husband died unexpectedly leaving her with a young daughter. Walking through the basement in the servants quarters, I imagined the young servants and what their lives might have been like. As we continued to climb stairs, gaining story after story, the long hallways brought to mind their only daughter Cornelia and how it must have been to grow up in a house like this. An image formed of the little girl running down one of the many long hallways and bounding into the endless amount of rooms. I wondered if she’d ever gotten lost in there. These ‘thoughts’ still run rampant in my head – I now realize a visit here lingers with you long after you’ve left the estate.
- Partial view of the garden
After touring the house and gardens, we ventured over to the village and winery, and even happened upon a Tiffany Lamp gallery. I was very happy for the opportunity to see all these gorgeous lamps in person. It reminded me of an art gallery because everyone was so silent except for whispers. Again, cameras weren’t allowed in there because they want you to visit in person. My mom has wanted one of these lamps for so long, I’d love to be the person to get her one someday.
Since the leaves are so beautiful this time of year, we decided to drive on the Blue Ridge Parkway for a leisurely ride over to Grandfather Mountain. The weather couldn’t have been better, and the scenic views were breathtaking – it was a lot to take in.
- View from Blue Ridge Parkway
- Taken from ‘our’ Thunder Hill Overlook
We’ve taken tons of pictures at the above overlook. I like it best because it comes complete with views on both sides – across the road is a beautiful field with a tremendous view of it’s own. It would be a great spot to picnic.
- Another overlook on the Parkway
- A favorite spot at Price Lake.
I love the mountains. I learn something new every time I visit – but this particular trip will probably hold the record for a long time to come.
My 5-minute dedication to Steve Jobs
The world lost an icon in the computer science industry yesterday. Steve Jobs, founder and CEO of Apple computers, lost his long battle with pancreatic cancer. He was 56.
Upon hearing of his resignation a couple of months ago, I knew it had to be very close. Steve would never ‘resign’ from the thing he loved most in life. The thing that had become his life.
He’s the sole reason I’m in the business I’m in today. Why I do what I do. The design and creation of graphics would never have gone the way it has without the typography and graphic integration of the Macintosh computer.
I’d like to share a few of his quotes that I ran upon last night.
“The most compelling reason for most people to buy a computer for the home will be to link it into a nationwide communications network. We’re just in the beginning stages of what will be a truly remarkable breakthrough for most people – as remarkable as the telephone.” ~1985
“Picasso had a saying: ‘Good artists copy, great artists steal.’ We have always been shameless about stealing great ideas… I think part of what made the Macintosh great was that the people working on it were musicians, poets, artists, zoologists and historians who also happened to be the best computer scientists in the world.” ~1994
“Remembering that I’ll be dead soon is the most important tool I’ve ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything – all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure – these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart…. Stay hungry. Stay foolish. ~2005 Stanford University commencement address
“The computer is the most remarkable tool that we’ve ever come up with. It’s the equivalent of a bicycle for our minds.” ~1990
“My model for business is the Beatles. They were four guys who kept each other’s kind of negative tendencies in check. They balanced each other and the total was greater than the sum of the parts. That’s how I see business: great things in business are never done by one person, they’re done by a team of people.” ~2003
Launching the apple site will really grab you this morning. I’ll give you a preview…
Rest peacefully, Steve. And… thank you.
Bling rhymes with ring… not worm
Guess what came in the mail yesterday? Lo and behold – a Helzberg Diamond mini-catalog. ‘You might like to look at this’, K said as he tossed it over to me. At first glance, I just let out a small hmmph.
Upon much closer inspection, I found six out the of eight pages were adorned with various engagement/wedding ring sets. I found out quite by accident this mini-catalog was large enough for me to actually drool over. Like a kid looking at a Christmas toy catalog, I was. So many to look at and choose from. That is – IF a person were to ever desire, or have need, to choose one.
Which made me think of one of my favorite little childhood jingles about worms. Fat ones, skinny ones, even little bitty ones, see how they wiggle and squirm… oh okay, I’ll shut up.
Because it’s not a worm. At least I don’t think it is.
Back for seconds, Di¢# I mean Rick?
It’s one of my very favorite things in life. No beef please, my barbecue must be of pork status, thankyouverymuch. Although I have a few local favorites, my top pick would be The Woodlands located in the Blue Ridge mountains of Blowing Rock, NC.
If you’re ever in the area… hit ’em up. Be sure and tell ’em I sent ya. (Bonnie who?? Oh yeahhh… that girl who drains an entire bottle of sauce and empties a roll of paper towels each time – gotcha.)
Hailing from the Carolinas myself, I simply have to go there. Ya just gotta love that new method of earning votes. Hey, I’m sure there’s a master plan in there somewhere. (choke-snort-snicker)
Don’t listen to him, folks. Our barbecue will absolutely rock your world. As far as roadkill – it’s seems obvious that ole’ ®ick has had a helping or two in his lifetime, since he’s now expert enough to compare it to our pork.
Back for seconds, Rick? Here’s your warm southern welcome.
My Soda Addiction
I love soft drinks. Not just any soft drinks – in particular Diet Coke and Diet Dr. Pepper. As bad as I hate to admit, I consume an overwhelming amount of them. I’ll go so far as to say it’s a big part of my daily life. Because I adore both brands equally, I consume each in equal amounts – adding to my list of many quirks.
For many years, it’s been my morning coffee, my ‘get through the morning’ pacifier, my lunch drink, ditto the afternoon pacifier and into the evening. If my stockpile goes below two 6-packs of bottles (I prefer cans though lately bottles have been more economical) I get anxious and start thinking about natural catastrophes and being caught without them. It’s a must to have them cold – if my current one dips above what I consider to be cold enough, it makes a temporary trip to the freezer and out comes a new one. POOF! Cold once again. Life is good.
I’m starting to classify this as one of many addictions I may have in life.
After being told for years that I need to cut back, I believe I’ve been in denial. In my experience, denial often spawns rebellion. I’ve ignored the old ‘put a rusty nail in a glass of coke and watch it eat the rust off’ and ‘pour a glass of coke on battery acid to eat the acid off’ fables. Well, I guess they’re not really fables.
This weekend, I came down with my very first bladder infection. I can report that it’s debut was not welcomed. The doc prescribed me some kick-butt antibods and after weathering the storm I’m feeling better now. I can only assume that since I’ve never had one, could it possibly have to do with the massive amounts of soda I consume every day? I’ve been almost three days without soft drinks, aside from an unconscious order of one for Mexican dinner out night last night (it really was habit – I didn’t even realize it until the waiter sat it down in front of me). I’m not even missing them that much. But I can still feel residual traces running through my veins – it’s gonna take awhile. When all is said and done, I still want to be able to enjoy one every now and then.
Does anyone else have a soft drink addiction?
Three dreams…
Attempting to interpret dreams can be as hopeless and painstaking as searching for a lost shipwreck. There may be multiple meanings that exist in dreams, or no meaning at all. Many of them are simply the result of our collective subconscious working overtime. Nevertheless, I find it fascinating to see what could be a hint or preview of what could end up being reality. If nothing else, I always pay attention.
Glass Breaking.
I was in a large kitchen that resembled an industrial one – supposedly part of a place where my daughter was getting ready to move (her real-life upcoming move was to be the following weekend). I was on a stepladder trying to balance several boxes stacked high, all of which were threatening to crash to the floor. Try as I might, I could not hold them. One by one, the boxes crashed down, each containing glass – soon I was surrounded by glass on the floor. I remember thinking there was no way I’d ever get it all completely cleaned up, that there would always be a danger of someone cutting their foot.
To see broken glass in your dream signifies disappointments and negative changes in your life. Alternatively, it could be symbolic of an aspect of your life that is in pieces. A relationaship or situation has come to an abrupt and untimely end. If you are walking on broken glass, then it suggests that you will be experiencing some heartache or pain. You are unsure with how to proceed with your life.
Spiders.
They were on the wall – one by one they showed up, only one at a time. They weren’t large, each being about the size of the depressor on bic lighter. Every time a new one came around I killed it.
To see a spider in your dream indicates that you are feeling like an outsider in some situation. Or perhaps you want to keep your distance and stay away from an alluring and tempting situation. The spider is also symbolic of feminine power or an overbearing mother figure in your life. Alternatively, a spider refers to a powerful force protecting you against your self-destructive behavior. If your kill a spider in your dream, then it symbolizes misfortune and bad luck. To see a spider climbing up a wall in your dream denotes that your desires will soon be realized.
A Turtle.
Just two nights ago, I was holding a box turtle. About the size of a cantaloupe, he had his head and limbs stretched out. Looking back it reminds me of one Keith and I had rescued from the road a few months back, except that real-life one was larger. The turtle had his head stretched back around in ‘ET’ fashion, looking directly into my eyes. His little feet were swimming back and forth like they so often do when nothing is under them – I could feel his little claws hitting my fingers.
To see a turtle in your dream symbolizes wisdom, faithfulness, longevity and loyalty. It also suggests that you need to take it slow in some situation or relationship in your life. That with time and patience, you will make steady progress. Alternatively, a turtle indicates that you are sheltering yourself from the realities of life. You are putting forth a hard exterior and not letting others in. As a result, you are feeling withdrawn.
**I realize my posts are often vague or oblique to say the least – as I’ve said before, I do that to maintain anonymity. There’s an old southern saying that my mother used to tell me, ‘you’re getting too big for your britches’. As I look back, she had good reason to use it. The idiom refers to a person who is over-extending their authority or is being bossy, a person who may have a conceited and exaggerated sense of their own importance, perhaps to the point of even injecting their self or their opinion where they aren’t needed. It’s pretty cut and dried to me. In the end, it’s really about your respect for others – you either have it or you don’t.
How much can a Koala Bear?
I got a good belly-laugh from an email I received tonight. I checked it out, and like the other good ones I found that different versions have circulated for years. Snopes does report that it seems to have originated with the below Australian version, around the time of the 2000 Summer Olympics in Sydney. Regardless of the origin or authenticity of it, it’s funny stuff!
It’s my dream to perhaps one day visit Australia. It’d be a long trip, so better start savin’ my money now…
Below are some of the tourist inquiries that were asked of the Sydney Olympic Committee via their website, and the replies back.
Q: Does it ever get windy in Australia ? I have never seen it rain on TV, how do the plants grow? (UK)
A: We import all plants fully grown and then just sit around and watch them die.
Q: Will I be able to see kangaroos in the street? (USA)
A: Depends how much you’ve been drinking.
Q: I want to walk from Perth to Sydney – can I follow the railroad tracks? (Sweden)
A: Sure, it’s only three thousand miles, take lots of water.
Q: Which direction should I drive – Perth to Darwin or Darwin to Perth – to avoid driving with the sun in my eyes? (Germany)
A: Excellent question, considering that the Olympics are being held in Sydney.
Q: Can you give me some information about hippo racing in Australia ? (USA)
A: A-Fri-ca is the big triangle shaped continent south of Europe.
Aus-tra-lia is that big island in the middle of the Pacific which does not… oh,
forget it. Sure, the hippo racing is every Tuesday night in Kings Cross. Come naked.
Q: Which direction is North in Australia ? (USA)
A: Face south and then turn 180 degrees. Contact us when you get here and we’ll send the rest of the directions.
Q: Can I bring cutlery into Australia ? (UK)
A: Why? Just use your fingers like we do…
Q: Can you send me the Vienna Boys’ Choir schedule? (USA)
A: Aus-tri-a is that quaint little country bordering Ger-man-y, which is… oh,
forget it. Sure, the Vienna Boys Choir plays every Tuesday night in Kings Cross, immediately after the hippo races. Come naked.
Q: Can I wear high heels in Australia ? (UK)
A: You are a British politician, right?
Q: Are there supermarkets in Sydney and is milk available all year round? (Germany)
A: No, we are a peaceful civilization of vegan hunter/gatherers. Milk is illegal.
Q: Please send a list of all doctors in Australia who can dispense rattlesnake serum. (USA)
A: Rattlesnakes live in A-meri-ca which is where YOU come from.
All Australian snakes are perfectly harmless, can be safely handled and make
good pets.
Q: I have a question about a famous animal in Australia, but I forget its name. It’s a kind of bear and lives in trees. (USA)
A: It’s called a Drop Bear. They are so called because they drop out of Gum trees and eat the brains of anyone walking underneath them. You can scare them off by spraying yourself with human urine before you go out walking.
Q: I have developed a new product that is the fountain of youth. Can you tell me where I can sell it in Australia ? (USA)
A: Anywhere significant numbers of Americans gather.
Q: Do you celebrate Christmas in Australia ? (France)
A: Only at Christmas.
Q: Will I be able to speak English most places I go? (USA)
A: Yes, but you’ll have to learn it first.
Questions, always
The subject always heats me up in a bad way. Each time I try to write about it I end up backspacing, deleting, rewriting – and guess what? I still end up all over the place. This is sure to be no exception.
A guy I know is going through a rough time. Upon recently learning of his wife’s affair with a co-worker, he confronted her on it. She pledged to ‘end’ it, but obviously didn’t. Long story short, he left her this past weekend.
My curse of thinking too much strikes again, as question after question invades my thoughts. Even if she had ‘ended it’ like she promised, could she really have continued working with the ex-lover? And if so, could my friend have slept well at night knowing the two were still ‘together’, albeit on the job?
Welcome to today’s world where the females are definitely giving the males a run for their money on this issue. At the risk of sounding crude… I’ve gotta go there. Why can’t these people keep their pants on? Can an hour of pleasure really be worth destroying the life of your spouse and/or children? Does your stomach not twist up in worry and angst over what you’ve done – or at least from fear of getting caught? And are ya really gonna trust someone you cheated with not to do the same to you later?
Don’t get me wrong – I absolutely do have great respect for those who’ve been able to get past an affair and ultimately save their marriage. I just can’t imagine many cases turning out like that.
I’ve heard the words reason or exception thrown around, I say SAVE IT. No reasons or exceptions matter to me in this most tender area. Yes I have an assload of sins myself, but infidelity isn’t in that huge pile and it never will be. I know some might call my views one-sided, and maybe they are – but they’re mine. Infidelity within a marriage is a certain removal of trust – the most personal betrayal – a definite stab in the heart. Who knows what goes on in a cheater’s head – I’m just unable to rationalize it in any way shape or form.
Makin’ Waves
At long last, we’re making a little trip down to the coast. Sure it’s no 7-day caribbean cruise like my daughter just came back from, but it totally works for me. It’ll be nice to get away, even for a few nights! Forecast is calling for cooler temps with possible showers, but it’s all good since we’re not currently in the path of a hurricane. Hoo – wahh.
Last night Keith mentioned taking a couple of rods with us so we could go pier fishing – something I’ve wanted to do for years. Being a fishie myself, I’ll of course throw back any fishies that I’m lucky enough to snag. ‘Cause that’s how I roll.
All this led me to some serious thinking.
Common Sense Beach Thoughts, by Bon:
- It’s September, so don’t wade too far out in the ocean if you favor the concept of a complete pair of legs.
- While enjoying a leisurely stroll on the beach, keep a sharp eye out for those huge wooden structures called piers. Avoid any and all contact between them and the top of your head.
- Relish the memories of previous parasailing events and resist the urge, however strong, to do it again. Your luck on not having yet become just another accident statistic is bound to run out sometime.
- Do not opt to eat at Taco Bell immediately prior to taking a dolphin watch cruise on the ocean.
- Never wait until mid-September to decide you’d like to add ‘just one more bathing suit’ to your collection. All that’s left in that area of the store is chirping crickets.
Now… if I can just figure out where to score one of these fins and an invisible push-up bra
I’ll be set. The hair extension part is easy.
😀
A Day of Remembrance
This ten-year mark of the September eleventh attacks will be a little different than the prior nine.
What’s sure to be an emotional unveiling of the 9/11 Memorial and Museum will happen this Sunday morning of September 11 2011. It has been a long-awaited and intricately planned project to say the least. Granted, these are my words. I realize there are no ‘appropriate’ words to use to describe the attack itself, it’s Memorial nor the intense emotions that run so deep when one thinks back to that fateful day ten years ago.
This past weekend I watched a 2-hour special on the years of work leading up to the completion of the 9/11 Memorial Site and Museum. All the time, effort and respect shown by everyone involved was nothing short of an amazing story. It had it all – love, grief, courage, oneness. Such an important word in the continued endeavor to heal – ONENESS. I believe the generations that went through these attacks will be working to heal for the rest of their lives.
To me, there could be no more appropriate memorial than this beautiful one that took so long to conceptualize and create. Two seemingly ‘endless’ pools sit on the area where the Twin Towers once stood. They are each nearly an acre in size and feature the largest man-made waterfalls in North America. The large pool of the initial waterfall spawns a second small one in the center which appears to cascade infinitely into the earth. The surrounding bronze panels edging the pools are carefully inscribed with the names of every person who perished in both the 2001 and 1993 attacks. I can’t imagine there being many dry eyes for those citizens witnessing the unveiling of this Memorial, whether in person or on television.
I’ve been told more than once that I ‘dwell’ too much on the most horrific terror attack in modern history. My answer to that is and always will be, so be it. One time when I brought it up to a close friend, I was dismissed with I never want to think about it again – it’s too horrible. It’s something that’s already happened and in the past now. As much as I still love this person, I’ll never forget the impact of hearing those words. Just mere days after the attack, when airplanes had yet to be given clearance to fly in our skies again – my ex husband told me I can’t watch any more of this, I’ve had it. From then on, just about everything else I watched had to be on my own time – adjusted around other shows which seemed to take precedence over 9/11. Again, so be it. I can report with much confidence that I did continue seeking information, and by the grace of God, I got it.
I’ve said this before but feel it bears repeating – I’d rather have nightmares about 9/11 every night for the rest of my life than to ever to forget about it. It’s true each of us are different, and we all have our own ways of dealing with tragedy. I realize this post is only one person’s views of the lasting effects from the largest loss of life from a foreign attack in the US so far. But let us not confuse the term ‘morbid dwelling’ with somber respect and remembrance. The act of remembering September 11th isn’t just black or white – equally as important are the shades of grey in between.
Official 9/11 Memorial Site 9/11 Memorial Webcam
Roadtrip
I love spontaneous roadtrips. With us they usually end up in the mountains, and I’ve grown to love the area a lot. Yesterday we set out early to Maggie Valley/Cherokee, NC. This is the location of mine and Keith’s very first trip together over two years ago, and I was surprised to see how much I remembered about it! Maybe my old memory isn’t as bad as I thought it was. Keith has Cherokee roots from his mother’s side of the family, and even looks the part. He could probably put on a headdress and pass very well.
We mostly walked both towns and perused the shops,, and ended up in Waynesville to eat dinner. Thought I’d share some photos of my favorite findings of the day – I hope everyone has a enjoyable and safe Labor Day Weekend!
That’s How September Rolls
This morning I drove past my favorite bull in the misty morning field, and noticed a little calf with exactly the same coloring he has. I just had to smile. The slightest hint of autumn air whisked past me – I’d recognize this transition even if I weren’t conscious of the coming season change. I don’t mind autumn, really I don’t – I think of it as an end-of-summer reward at it’s best. At last, we will have bearable temperatures, cool nights, and gorgeous colors everywhere. I can even go hiking again. I’m just not fond of what comes next – bare trees, blustery cold mornings of devoting an extra fifteen minutes to defrost the car, the careful layering of our clothing to keep warm. I sleep about twice as much in the winter, hibernating like a bear. A cute little mama bear, that is. 🙂
Lucky for us, we have the current friendly neighborhood hurricane season to take our minds off those imminent winter days and nights! Oh, yay. Katia looks to be the next big boy coming our way. Incidentally, my daughter sails off from Tampa on Sunday for a seven-day cruise. She’ll be hitting some optimal ports – Cozumel, Belize, Isla Roatan Honduras and Grand Caymen. Tonight we’re taking her out to dinner bon-voyage style at our favorite Japanese hibachi restaurant. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a bit nervous about the weather for her. I know it’s to be expected, though…
Because that’s how September rolls.
weather.com
Pear Smiling
It usually takes a while to adjust to new living conditions, whether you’ve made the move yourself or someone else has moved in with you. After several months, it’s fair to say Keith and I have established a good little ‘routine’ with daily duties such as dinner, grocery shopping, laundry and other things.
During our grocery trip this Saturday, we lingered in the produce department – everything seemed to look extra-good. We happened upon a batch of pears, which I don’t normally buy.
Keith: ‘You like pears?’
Me: ‘I dunno. Don’t think I’ve ever tried them.’
Keith: ‘Oh, they’re good – if you get the right one.’
Me: ‘Yeah, my dad likes pears (the right ones).’
K fondles picks up the pears and puts each one back, them obviously not being up to his standard. Rounding the corner, he utters ‘aha!’ and walks over to another batch, eyeing them like an old girlfriend. Since I’m a pear newbie, I can’t remember the type – Bartlett or Bosc, I think – they had bits of green and brown. I watched as he gingerly picked a few up, felt them, smelled them.
This flashed me right back to a scene from a favorite movie, City of Angels – of Meg Ryan picking up the pears and smelling them. Of Nicolas Cage learning how to do it by intently watching her. It looked like that exact same type of pear.
Anyone remember the HBO series Dream On from the 90’s? I loved that show. It featured a neurotic New Yorker (Brian Benben) whose real life antics always drummed up scenes of old TV shows. Reminds me of someone I know…
Falling Chips
My mother and her husband finally got out of town for a couple of days. She’s had a rough Summer with her brother passing away recently from a terminal illness, add to that the fact they haven’t been anywhere in years. Everyone deserves a vacation every now and then, and it’s been way too long for them.
Our family has this unique ability of finding humor in our own self, and Mom is no exception. The kind of laughter I heard from her yesterday was priceless, it’s the kind of laughter I haven’t heard in a long time. Mammaw was terrific at it too, and Mom is definitely a chip off the ole’ block! She was laughing so hard I couldn’t even understand her (no alcohol involved). Of course she couldn’t leave her husband out of the ‘roast’, so he got included too. 🙂
The complicated directions they were given to their room in the casino hotel made me think of the Griswold’s Vegas Vacation. There’s my sick sense of humor – I usually think of a movie to compare things to. Now, if Mom comes home with Wayne Newton on her arm I’m gonna have to give her a lecture.
Setting Stages
Have you ever wished for something, and over time found yourself subliminally ‘padding the way’ for it to happen? Not necessarily ‘making it happen’ or ‘helping it out’ – but perhaps making it ‘easier to occur’?
Setting the stage, so to speak.
It has recently come to my attention that I may be unintentionally doing this. Once I realized it for what it really was, I was disappointed in myself. The sheer anticipation of certain hopes and dreams somehow warped my brain into thinking that I need to provide my assistance or guidance in order for them to happen.
Go out and grab life by the horns, Bon. Seize the world – it’s yours. Make your own destiny. It’s never too late to be what you might have been. I heard it all. And I listened.
After twenty-three years of marriage I was the proud owner of a can’t-think-for-myself brain. Once I finally met and became acquainted with ME 1.0, I convinced myself I had to become a strong individual and maintain control and direction. I’m still (slowly) learning that exercising that ‘control’ does not and should not apply to every single thing in life. Some things need to occur naturally if they are to occur – and over time. Unwittingly setting the stage isn’t always appropriate.
Certain dreams and aspirations I have will either come true or they won’t. I have to come to the realization that some things in life just do not need my assistance.
The Sands SkyPark
Learning about new structural masterpieces never cease to amaze and intrigue me. I’ve written about the Burj Dubai, the Grand Canyon Skywalk and the Swiss AlspiX – I really enjoy writing about these ‘wonders’ because a) it forces me to learn more about them by exploring the facts, and b) it’s not likely I’ll ever get to visit them in person. I find it ironic that all these places have one thing in common – extreme height. With heights being my main hang-up, it’s probably fair to say it’s the biggest source of my intrigue.
The top SkyPark of Marina Bay Sands Hotel in Singapore made it’s official debut on June 24, 2010. The cantilever is positioned atop three 57-story sloping towers which are connected at level 23, and stretches longer lengthwise than the Eiffel Tower is tall. This structure houses a hotel, casino, restaurants, stores, art gallery, pool, ice skating rink, gardens, and much more all rolled up into one tropical oasis. The top SkyPark can accommodate roughly 3,900 people, and is one of the largest art commissions ever completed as part of an integrated architectural process.
Ah, the marvels of engineering. I’ll let the pictures, courtesy Marina Bay Sands Hotel Singapore, have the final word.
Life of Bon 
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