Monthly Archives: July 2010


In 2005 I, and Hubby, left the shores of Southern California for the desert and Arizona sun. It seemed like a thing I could do, since I’ve moved to many different areas of the USA just because Hubby needed to change. (All wives, as well as some husbands, know this drill.) So off we go… two weeks in the sun, not too bad. A month… Still hanging in there. Six weeks I was not doing so great, but I’m still with it. Then when we reached July, a time of year, here, when the temperature at 2:30 in the morning is still a ripping 92 degrees… I have to admit that, well… It’s HOT!

I continued in a effort to believe that there was nothing I couldn’t do for my man! But that July heat where it’s 112 in the shade was awful. Each day I would rise picturing myself able to conquer the heat and by twelve noon I was saying to Hubby, “We could always go back to San Diego to live.” And that would bring on “the look,” and I would utter a weak, “No? Okay.”

Survival became painting

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Two women are walking the same direction as they shop in a mall. Both see a sign over their favorite shoe store that reads, “SALE.” One thinks to herself, “I just got paid and I’m buying a new pair of shoes today,” while the other woman turns from the sign and heads away thinking, “A sale is not a sale if you haven’t any money.” Just then, two men pass the woman heading toward the shoe sale, and those men enter an elevator. The two men each in kind turn and push a button for the floor to which they are going… They ride the elevator waiting quietly to arrive at the appointed destination: and when each arrives, each gets off. What do all of these people have in common? Whether related or not, they had to make choices.

Every single day, we all are choosing one thing or another. Children practice the art of making decisions in hopes of becoming a happy and responsible adult. (Well, their parents are hoping for this anyway!) And as adults, we are making decisions all by ourselves… Some turn out wonderful and some are just

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One Hundred

I’m very much aware that I’m not the only person on the planet. I am not so confident that I don’t need help up now and again; and, I am certainly (since childhood) watching others…When they do something I think is pretty amazing, I’m over there asking them, “How did you do that!” Most of the time, I just go along and do the job that’s in front of me and wish everyone well. But about some years ago, I began to think that things had changed.

Partly I think I thought this because I am at a new stage in my life and being there, I had some expectations that didn’t come to pass. I haven’t the opportunity or location to be with family the way my family was there for me. I am still working my tail off and it doesn’t look like I’ll be globe trotting or living an easier life too soon in the future. And even though those expectations are pretty much fantasy land, I still feel good about life. It’s great to be breathing and taking up space in the world! It’s a pleasure to get up

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Should We Oust the Old (movies)

Saturday afternoon at the movies with popcorn and a coke. What a GREAT way it was to while away the afternoon when I was a child. My brother and I would walk to the theater (and get in free because our dad was the manager) and then buy our popcorn and drink (yes, buy because Dad thought it was character building for us to have to do that). We would sit on the front row of the Grand Theater in Rocky Ford, Colorado and there in the darkness, our heroes would save the earth and all of humanity. We pictured ourselves in the throws of every battle;we fought along side of that hero and heroine. And then? We would play pretend all the way home and become that hero and that heroine. WE would save the world and all of humanity. As Tom and I grew up and experienced our own lives separate from each other, all of these heroes and stories stayed in our thoughts and memories. Little did I know what a huge affect they had had on me.

So here I am, with a day off. It’s rare!

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Summer Heat

Here we are in the throws of summer, that time where so many Americans long to have the sun in the sky for greater length of time, for flowers to bloom and crickets to sing in the cool of a summer breeze. Ah! Summer! I sit here writing to you from my Arizona home where the temperature today is one hundred and twelve degrees. Let me put that numerically… 112 big hot sun-blistering degrees. We have cloud cover and I can tell you that if you work outside today in the Land of the Sun, you are begging your boss to let you go home! Here in Arizona we are not saying, “Ah! Summer!” We phrase it differently. No let me rewind that… we are so hot, we can’t form words to speak! We just get through the day and hope that the air conditioning doesn’t go out nor the fan stop working. But enough about us. Let’s talk about summer in other parts of the country.

Does anyone know what New York City is like in the summer? Or, how about Washington D.C. or ANYwhere in Florida?

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A Different Kind of Cruisin’ – One More Ride

The first car I ever had that was really my own was a VW Bug. I didn’t pick it out: it was chosen for me. My father found it and it was meant for me to drive to my student teaching assignment my senior year in college. That said, it was a car that I LOVED with my whole heart, a car that I took to the soul and drove all over Denver and up to Loveland to visit my Grandparents and aunt and uncles on weekends.

“My own car!” I use to say that to myself whenever I sat behind the wheel and turned the ignition key. “My own car!” I would think that, as I drove to my assigned school, to student teach. And, I would say, “My own car,” to no one out loud, as I drove to Loveland.

The independence of having one’s own vehicle was for me a validation that I was an adult, had achieved something, could go with ease and freedom to a destination of my own choosing. In reality no one validated me; it was I myself, digging the fact that I was making my own

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A Different Kind of Cruisin’

It is a very late afternoon on an old country road in Southeastern Colorado… a road which leads to that part of the country known to those who live there as, “The Cedars.” In the far distance, the sun is setting over the Rockies; and the desert land that houses this road has begun its evening ritual of shadows and critters coming out to feed. A “52 stick shift Chevrolet sits on the side of the road. Two occupants: A father and his eldest daughter. She has just turned sixteen and this intelligent, confidant, commanding father is about to give this daughter her very first driving lesson.

The father goes through a lengthy description of how to engage the motor, push in the clutch, put the stick into first gear, and let out the clutch as the gas pedal is gently depressed. She passes through each step with slow motion care, until it’s time to let out the clutch. The vehicle stalls. Failure looms in the car. He tells her to try again and gives her additional instruction; as she eases the clutch out, the car begins to roll and then suddenly

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