simple pleasures

Simple Pleasures

Ice cream.
The sound of the ocean as you drift off to sleep.
The first sight of your baby - birthed or adopted - whatever that baby's age might be.
Your perfect sigh as you settle in to your lover's arms.
A novel's plot twist that you didn't anticipate, coupled with rich, complex characters.
The satisfaction that follows exercise.
Finding that you've taken a photograph that pleases you very much.
The first time you hear lyrics to a song that devastates you.
The moment when a pill kicks in that is fighting something - headache, body pain, inability to sleep.
Creme brulee.
Laughing with someone you know well and feel safe with.
Really great sex.
Arriving at your vacation destination.
Reworking a sentence until it is exactly right.
The moment when someone realizes that you've done something very sweet for them.
Pesto.
A view of something spectacular in nature - ocean, mountain, river, valley, babbling brook, waterfall, etc.
Identifying a bird that you didn't previously know.
The sensation of a dog sprawled out in your lap, knowing she adores you.
Mastering something new - a language, a task, a recipe - anything you couldn't do, but now CAN do.
The smell of bread baking in your oven.
The first moment you realize that you are strong enough to weather just about anything.
Standing tall for what is right, even if that makes you unpopular.
Singing along with the radio, even if you don't know all of the words.
Lowering yourself into a wonderful bath.
Looking over a menu at a restaurant you haven't previously visited - even online, before you go.
Opening a present and finding just what you wanted.
Looking at your toes after a pedicure.
Watching a really good movie in the theatre, with Milk Duds and a frozen Coke.
A clean house, especially if someone else cleaned it.
Seeing happiness and success in the life of a former student.

martha and the phone books

{I mistakenly read 333 words when the prompt asked for 33 words. Oops.}

"Make extra cash delivering phone books." Martha stared at the ad. Before she could stop herself, the phone was in her hand. They told her to come on down for the morning training session.

In the room with her were a half dozen very unfortunate looking people. Martha thought she might be the only one in the room with all of her own teeth. The "trainer" played a video about how to place two phone books into a plastic bag. After the "training" was complete, Martha backed her SUV up to the loading dock and a man filled her car up with phone books and one box of plastic bags. "You'll have to come back for the rest."

Martha carried the books into her house and painstakingly bagged them up. Using the address list from the company, she drove around and delivered her phone books, knowing all the while that she'd have to go back for more. She realized that she had neglected to ask what the pay would be.

With six bags left, she pulled into a driveway, waving to the man who was in the yard. She placed the bag on his porch, then got back in her SUV and backed out, only to run over the man's mailbox, knocking her car's side mirror off in the process. She got out to survey the damage. The man walked over. "I can't tell you how sorry I am," Martha said to the man. She gave the man her contact information, gathered up the broken bits of her side mirror and drove home.

Martha received a check in the mail for her services. $250, less the second batch of phone books that she never went back for. Total earnings = $211.78. Martha also received the mailbox bill for $178.43. When she picked up her car from the shop, the bill was $569.23. With a $500 deductible, she calculated that it had cost her $466.65 to spend the day working on her delivery job.

tree

My photography prompt for 12/17/13 is "tree". We're in the middle of December, so it is no surprise that many people posted photos of their Christmas trees. But lots of people went in the same direction that I did, which was to take a photo of a regular tree.

I might have taken a picture of my own Christmas tree if I had one. This is the 5th or 6th year in a row that I didn't put up a tree. I got rid of a fake tree some years ago when I was relocating from one state to another. The tree had seen better days and I figured I would just get a new one at my new destination. But then I didn't. Every Christmas, I vow that I'll buy a new tree in the sales just after the holiday. But then I don't. Even more peculiar, I keep buying ornaments for a tree I don't have!

But back to photography, I'm really drawn to tree bark and the way in which trees are constructed. I'm fascinated by the way the tree functions. In my original picture, I took a photo of a tree trunk that featured peeling bark and all sorts of marks and imperfections. I realize that I have no idea what species this tree is. Maybe I'll go back and figure it out later.

While I was on the same walk, I also saw a palm tree that I found equally interesting. The trunk of the tree showed several places where the fiber of the tree was simply shredding itself and separating from the tree in a very stringy, lacy way. I have no idea why the tree does that, but it makes for an interesting photo.

This brings to mind the wide variety of personalities of humans. We're all scarred and peeling in various ways. But what really sets us apart from one another is how we view others.Too often, I focus on the imperfections that people display. What I should be keenly aware of is that they are there at all. What does this person bring to my life that is important for me to see? Behind their scars, what is there? And more importantly, what do I have to offer them?

almond pecan popcorn

In 1975, my last sibling left home to go to college. That left just me & Mom at home. From that point until 2002, I lived with or near Mom and we spent almost every Christmas together. For the first few, my sister who is a year older came home. But after she finished college, we didn't see much of her, just as we didn't see much of my older siblings.

Mom and I had traditions. One tradition was to buy each other entirely too many Christmas presents. It was ridiculous. And once I had a child of my own in 1987, the outrageous gift-giving reached a fever pitch. One Christmas, we counted almost 100 presents under the tree, all for the three of us. Some of those came from other people, of course. But it was still insane. And we largely kept it a secret from my other siblings. Once I started working and had a decent income, I could not stop myself! Every time I went shopping I would see just ONE MORE THING that I would convince myself would make Mom happy. And she apparently had the same problem. It was almost embarrassing. Over the decades, I think I bought her the entire Pfaltzgraff Winterberry holiday china collection, including the gravy boat and the three-tiered desert tray.

Another tradition was Neiman Marcus Almond Pecan Popcorn. Oh, delicious candied popcorn with sweet pecans and almonds mixed in! It was so good! If we didn't eat it all before the day I had to get in the car to drive home, she would pack up half of what was left in a plastic baggie and send it home with me. My son was lucky if he got any at all.

We also ALWAYS had Almond Roca, her favorite candy. Each piece is a perfect foil-wrapped morsel, which could easily be consumed in one bite. But I always bite off half and set the other half daintily on the opened foil. Then, I slowly eat the first half before popping the second half in my mouth. And when my brain registers that the second half is almost gone, it tries to convince me that if I glance over at the foil that the second half will still be sitting there waiting for me. It never is. But I always check, just in case I got distracted and just THOUGHT I had consumed it.

What else? Oh! Mom always made cookies. We had chocolate chip cookies and cardamom cookies. But the best cookie she made were her Russian tea cakes or wedding cookies, as some people call them. The little balls of cooked dough (butter, sugar, flour, vanilla, salt, chopped pecans) were cooled and then rolled in confectioner's sugar. Oh, who can eat just one ... dozen?

Mother always had her train set assembled and going around the Christmas tree. She loved Norfolk & Western and the one with the Chessie cat. As my son got older, he lost interest in the train set. I often wonder what became of it.

We would listen to all kinds of music and watch the Nutcracker on television. If A Charlie Brown Christmas came on while we were there, we always watched it. And Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer (with Burl Ives) was a must if it happened to be on while we were there. But mostly I remember listening to music.

We always attended Christmas Eve service somewhere. During the years she was in the pulpit, it was at her church, of course.

On Christmas morning, we always started with V-8 juice and some kind of sweet roll. Then we opened presents! Woo hoo!!!!! Then we cooked all day. Yes! For just the three of us! Turkey, sweet potato casserole, green bean casserole, rice & gravy, crescent rolls, cranberry jelly, olives and pumpkin pie for dessert. Then we always worked the new puzzle that Santa had brought us.

Depending on when I needed to be back at work, I might stay one day or up to one week after Christmas. So sometimes we got to do after-Christmas shopping. We always tried to hit the Hallmark store first thing in the morning on December 26th. The deals!!! And there was always some type of artists' cooperative to hit to find pottery or other small objects.

We had a lot of fun. I loved asking Mom to tell me stories from her childhood. There was always something I hadn't heard before.

In 2002, Mom decided to go live with my oldest sister and my brother-in-law in Colorado. It happened around the same time that my son left to go live with his father. And that was the end of our Christmas traditions. I honestly didn't realize how much it meant to me until the time came when I didn't have it any more. I've spent more than one Christmas day alone since then, declining invitations from people I knew but didn't have a close relationship with. That was probably stupid. I told myself that I'd rather just stay at home in my pajamas, which was true. But I think I was just missing my Mom.

Oh, the complexity of the mother/child relationship. Mom has issues. Heck, I have issues! But for that 25+ year period, we were good friends. I knew most of her secrets and she knew most of mine. But I didn't know her as well as I thought I did and we weren't as close as I thought we were. Because once she moved to my sister's house, our connection pretty much disappeared. I understand more about why and how that happened now, but back then it was pretty mind-blowing.

You never know, from one year to the next - or from one moment to the next - whether you will continue to have what you have now. The advice I have isn't new or unique. Enjoy now. Love each other. Show appreciation. Because you just never know!

far from home

French Polynesia is the only place I've ever been where I accidentally paid $47 for a t-shirt. The exchange rate was fluctuating rather wildly while we were there and we could not do the math in our heads fast enough. On the island of Bora Bora, we rushed over to see Bloody Mary's, a restaurant and bar that is entirely too far from the dock where we were to board a catamaran for a sunset cruise around the island. So when we finally DID get to Bloody Mary's, we had to rush through the gift shop for souvenirs, then leap back into the waiting taxi to get back for our cruise. The ride back was long enough to pull out a calculator and figure out that we had just purchased some outrageously priced tchotchkes. Oy.

But that champagne sunset catamaran cruise around the island is in my top five life memories. It was amazing. I will never forget the feeling of being stretched out on my belly on the sail and trailing my hand in the water. The sun slowly sank. I enjoyed my champagne and assorted nibbles of fruit. But looking into that water, I felt farther from home than I have ever felt. Of course I was in the southern hemisphere, so technically I WAS farther from home than I had ever been. It was truly amazing.

r is for ...

I don't even like peanut butter flavored candy. But there I was in the store, walking down each aisle with my camera in my hand and muttering "R is for, R is for, R is for" under my breath. When I saw the bright orange packaging of the Reese's candy, I had that AHA feeling. I rearranged the shelf a little and took five or six photos.

Back home, I was unsatisfied. But then arrives the familiar feeling that explains clearly why I will never be a world famous photographer. When a great photo happens, I've overjoyed. But when a photo fails to ignite my passion, I'm not one to force myself back out into the trenches to try again. This will do for now, I think. And I move on to something else.

The same could be said for many of my more creative endeavors, or attempts at creative endeavors. I get ideas. But I don't complete most of them. I need a creative partner - or two. Right about now, for instance, I could use someone to finish this blog entry.

it's (almost) always sunny in Phoenix

Living in Phoenix, Arizona is like being on vacation. Everywhere I go, there are remarkable views. Sunny days are on order approximately 310 days out of the year. If you suffer from seasonal affective disorder, move to Phoenix. Cured!

These last few days, however, have been very odd. Freeze warnings at night and sweater weather during the day. Last night I woke up and stumbled to the linen closet to drag out an extra quilt to throw on my bed. When I woke up this morning, before I opened my eyes, I questioned whether I had dreamed it. But no, there it was!

I've been bragging for years about eating Christmas dinner out by the pool the first winter I lived in Arizona. It was an amazing experience that convinced me that I really wanted to live here for the rest of my life. But it doesn't look like we'll be doing that this year!

What helps me to survive the brutal heat of an Arizona summer is imagining the winter months with my doors and windows open to let in the warm air. I've only had a few weeks of open window weather, so far, and I'm feeling cheated! I hope it gets warmer soon.

jekyll island sunrise

When I look at photos I've taken of sunrises and sunsets, I'm always acutely aware of what a luxury it is to be in a place to take such a photo. I'm sure there are people who live their entire lives without every seeing a sight like this. I feel special, but with a tinge of guilt. How did I get this lucky?

it'll be fine, just fine

My best friend, Jane, has always handled crisis with grace and aplomb. She waves away the worst predictions with her signature phrase, "It'll be fine, JUST fine!" I once fussed at her about this tendency of hers to expect the best. I went to her with some work-related crisis, suggesting that something awful was just around the corner. She replied, as usual, "It'll be fine, JUST fine!" Exasperated, I said, "Jane, you ALWAYS SAY THAT!!!" Without missing a beat she replied, "And it always is."

alcohol

My paternal grandparents were teetotallers and did not even allow spirits of any kind in the house. My maternal grandmother liked a glass of sherry every evening. My mother almost got arrested at the nursing home because she fought so hard for her mother to continue having her evening glass of sherry.

My own relationship with alcohol is not so black or white. As a teenager, I smoked pot. Alcohol was just not interesting to me. I recall drinking some beer, but I favored Miller ponies (the shame!) because there was a small chance that I might actually finish one before it got hot. When I did get to the point where I might have a mixed drink, I liked a Pina Colada. Clearly, I wasn't in to alcohol!

So how did I end up married to an alcoholic, you might ask? He was abstaining from alcohol when I met him because he was living with an older cousin who was a recovering alcoholic. Never in a million years did it occur to me that he might have a problem. When I met his family, I cheerfully answered, "I'm a drug and alcohol counselor" when asked about my career. Only much later would I be able to make sense of the stunned silence that followed my response. My new husband's mother was an alcoholic who had been married five times - to five alcoholics. My husband's father, absent from his life for years at the time I met him, was one of those five alcoholic husbands. My husband's sisters were both drug addicts, addicted to crack cocaine. My husband's brothers were alcoholics, although the oldest had managed to completely distance himself from the family and was clean and sober. My husband was considered to be the only healthy member of the family. He had never mentioned any of this during our short courtship.

After our first son was born, I encouraged him to find an activity to do outside the house. He joined the office bowling league and promptly started coming home drunk on Wednesday nights. I'll spare you the ugly details. After an attempt at marriage counseling, thwarted by his mother who told him "there is NOTHING wrong with you!!!", the marriage was over.

But my relationship with alcohol pre-dated my fiasco marriage. My father's second wife was a raging alcoholic who was typically drunk by about 3 p.m. every day. My sister and I first visited the new couple when we were 9 and 10. The next summer, she became enraged at me and sicced her German Shepherd on me. I narrowly escaped mayhem by climbing an apple tree. My father came home from work, rescued me and took me to the airport to send me back home to my mother. My father and I were estranged for a few years after that and only reconciled after that marriage ended.

You could say that alcohol has not been kind to me. So why do I have alcohol in my cupboard? For one, I love to cook. The Pioneer Woman's Whiskey Glazed Carrots are amazing, so Jack Daniels is an absolute MUST have. My sweetheart likes a good screwdriver, so I keep Ketel One and orange juice in the house for him. The other bottles are the product of having people over for dinner and asking them what they like to drink. I also keep red and white wines on hand, just in case. But if left to my own devices, an open bottle of wine will eventually be poured down the drain. I just don't drink.

One of my favorite takes on alcohol is a song written by Sofie Livebrant & Svante Sjoblom and recorded by Brad Paisley:

Alcohol

I can make anybody pretty
I can make you believe any lie
I can make you pick a fight
with somebody twice
your size. . .

Well I've been known to cause a few breakups
and I've been known to cause a few births
I can make you new friends
Or get you fired from work.

(Chorus)
And since the day I left Milwaukee,
Lynchburg, Bordeaux, France
Been makin the bars
Lots of big money
and helpin white people dance
I got you in trouble in high school
but college now that was a ball
you had some of the best times
you'll never remember with me
Alcohol, Alcohol

I got blamed at your wedding reception
for your best man's embarassing speech
and also for those naked pictures of you at the beach
I've influenced kings and world leaders
I helped Hemingway write like he did
and I`ll bet you a drink or two that I can make you
put that lampshade on your head . .

(Chorus)