Unlike my stamina, reunions get better with age...

Wow, what a week.  I do not think I picked up "James Dean" once the entire time.  But playing "hard to get" is good on occasion, keeps the interest level up.  Which brings me right back to my absence...my high school reunion.  Okay SOMETIMES pulling out the "hard to get" card worked in 1977, and other times it was an abysmal failure.  Right up there with polyester and Aquanet.  Blah, blah, blah...yes I was reminded of that with a few reunion sightings Saturday night.  A seventeen year old's judgement isn't always spot on, just sayin'.

This past week, my BFF flew in from Chicago and stayed with me for a few days.  We kvetched, we laughed, we shopped, we drank wine, we laughed some more.  I even subjected her to a spin class where I work out (sorry girl, but you KNOW it was for a good cause and your red face ultimately did fade).  And we also managed to fit in commiserating over our better-halves, the male gender in totality, expanding waist lines, and our shrinking fashion choices as we hit that "no woman's land" of appropriateness that falls somewhere between Lindsay Lohan and Betty White.  In my next life I am going to design a clothing line called "Not Your Grandma's Closet".

When all was said and done, we hit our 35th high school reunion.  And quite honestly, had a blast despite all our trepidations.  Apparently high school anxieties aren't left behind with the Bunson Burners and ugly gym uniforms.  It was quite a cacophony of personalities and life experiences.  I have always suspected that one should never underestimate the ties of a shared history.  Which includes the collective breathing in of the daily stench of sitting in an open windowed classroom  that sits directly across the street from the town sewage plant.   What didn't kill us apparently made us stronger AND buy enough Charlie perfume and Hai Karate cologne to mask the stench.

As in every group that gets together, there were some who certainly have faced what seems to be more than their fair share of obstacles and losses in their lives.  Yet not only have they endured with beauty and grace,  but they literally shine.  I am left in awe and wonder.

And we have also lost members along the way.  Some we have lost physically due to illness.  Some we have lost  due to never having felt the connection or desire to maintain ties to this part of their lives.  And it was as if a piece of us was missing.  As we get older it is natural that a group will dwindle for a variety of reasons.  It reminds me of the dandelion globes I use to blow in the spring  fields while asking the fates "He loves me?  He loves me not?"  If I blew that globe free of seeds the answer was a good one.  If not...it wasn't looking so hot for me. I would watch the individual pieces dance away in the breeze as they caught the sunlight  in search of a new home.  A new place to land.  Dispersed to the fates.  Landing in places and circumstances unknown. Yet hopefully taking root and prospering.  A definite metaphor for life, but at the time...I just wanted a date for Saturday night so I didn't seem pathetic sitting home watching a "Love American Style" rerun.

A reunion is a reminder that no matter how life has blown us on our way and placed us throughout the world on our individual journeys...we all originally came from that same dandelion globe.

That is a shared experience that will always bind us to a certain extent.  And I have come to recognize THAT is a beautiful thing.  Eau d' Sewage Plant and all.

--Kathy

Scavenger Hunt Sunday (4-22-2012)...

I type this to the strains of seven 14-year-old girls gabbing, laughing, and yelling in my basement.  There is a definite run on pizza, chicken tenders, veggies and dip, chocolate chip cookies, and the piece de-resistance...pretzel rods dipped in Nutella.  Ahhhhh, to be fourteen and not have to worry about where all those calories are headed to on my body.  I love this, and never truly understand it when I hear some parents complain about all the kids over at their home.  Probably because I have a ten year gap between my two youngest and am therefore keenly aware how quickly this time in their lives flies by.  Breathe in and savor the moments...and invest in earplugs.

Therefore, I am short on words 'cause they are waiting patiently for the tray of fritos, chips and dip to make their grand entrance to the basement.  And who says boys are the one's with ravenous appetites...pshaw.  As usual, if you have the time I urge you to head over to Ashley's "Ramblings and Photos" to check out all the great submissions for this week's prompts, which happen to be:

Yellow, Something that Makes You Smile, Ancient or Antique, Splash, In the Sun


1.  Yellow

"Mellow Yellow"

Did you ever take the time to notice how much YELLOW is around us this time of year?  It is apparently everywhere.  So easy to look on the bright side of life during Spring. So I decided to capture the yellow that is the most fleeting.  Yellow weeds.  A whole orchard of them.  Goodbye Yellow Brick Road in a few weeks.

2.  Something that Makes You Smile

"Freesia"

Ahhhh, the sweet smell of Freesia.  Some sprigs sit on my kitchen window sill above the sink.  I smell the faint sweetness it gives in the air.  Alas...as much as I do love Freesia, it does NOT make washing dishes any more enjoyable.

3.  Ancient or Antique

"History in the Shadows"

Independence Hall, Philadelphia

"Reflecting on Liberty"
The Liberty Bell

One of the many reasons I do love my Philly, is because it is truly "old" by American standards.  And the old, is mixed right in with the new.  You just never know what bit of history you will encounter with each corner you turn.  Philly does  not have a monopoly on this...I adore the whole eastern seaboard cities for the same reason:  Boston, New York, Washington, D.C.   My mind soars wondering who's footsteps I am walking in.  Of course, those choices are greatly limited when I walk into a center city Starbucks.

4.  Splash

"Dandelion Symphony"

One dandelion might take center stage as the conductor, but splashes of dandelions certainly make up the symphony.

5.  In the Sun

"Shadow Dancing"
Bucks County, PA

You KNEW I had to have at least one black and white in my collection.  I headed up to Rice's Outdoor Flea Market in New Hope, Bucks County.  The stalls and stalls of merchants didn't capture my attention as quickly as the horse farm across the street with it's fence and shadows did.  Not to worry,  the merchants wound up going home with a few of my dollars, and I went home with "James Dean" and some photos.




And there ya have it.  Okay, I've just been informed that two of the girls I'm "feeding" are actually VEGANS.  I never even KNEW what a VEGAN was when I was fourteen.  Actually, apparently I still don't because I offered to make them omelettes if they were still hungry.  Yep, I accomplished a perfectly synchronized eye roll from all seven of them.....tah dah!!!!!  Hmmmmm....does Nutella and Pretzel Rods fit into those parameters?


--Kathy

linked to:

It's a Dog(wood's) life...

Got Spring? As if the warm temps hadn't been a tip-off,  those beautifully graceful Dogwood trees, with their curvy branches and blooming pink cross-like buds make it official for moi.  This week's Project 52 prompt is "Things That Grow".  It might as well be "One of my FAV things that grow".

"Got Spring?"

"The Golden Hour"

I took these last evening as I was killing time waiting for Thing #3 to finish her voice lessons.  Seriously, seems as if I'm ALWAYS killing time waiting on her.  Which means, prime one-on-one time with "James Dean" without guilt.  The lighting was so rich as it was the Golden Hour.  Spring is revved up into high gear here in Peeeeay for sure.  Got Spring?  Got Dogwoods!

Happy Spring-ing to you all.

--Kathy

Dream Weaver...

"Solitary Flight"

Sometimes I can be quite a contradiction (hint...my Better Half need not respond to this).  For instance, I STRONGLY dislike birds.  I know, sooooo many beautiful bird photos out there, but up close and personal?  They scare the bejeezus outta me.  I blame it on my one aunt who use to let her bird fly free around the house.  It landed on my young shoulder one day while I was not paying attention.  The stupid bird, I did NOT give it permission to use me as a landing strip.  Even from afar, I'm not too keen on them.  Probably because they apparently think I look like a personal porta-potty.  FYI, I don't like monkey's either, they kinda freak me out.  So you can imagine my reaction every year when the annual showing of "The Wizard of Oz" was broadcast and those dang Flying Monkey's made their appearance.  Take cover under a blanket or flee from the room.

But for some reason, despite my disdain for birds...I have always been enthralled by the idea of flight.  Again, contradictions galore...NOT in an airplane (THAT scares me too!), but like a bird sans feathers.  Occasionally I will have dreams where I am flying.  Altho, much more common when I was younger.  Not surprising as the supposed meaning of these dreams is literally that you are flying on top of the world, in control of a situation, a personal sense of power and control.  The dreams have probably lessened thru the years due to more issues and situations where I feel I have totally NO control.  Growing up literally grounds us, both in reality and in dreams sometimes.

My flying dreams are always lucid dreams, meaning I am fully aware I am dreaming while in flight.  Which makes it even BETTER. Actually, I have lucid dreams when I'm dieting too...the PERFECT way to feel I am indulging in caloric delights without my butt growing as a result.  But when dreaming of flying, I always wake up with a great sense of freedom.  The feeling of being Supermanwoman, looking down from a high, the sensation of the wind passing thru my outstretched arms and fingers, the silence.  Not afraid to fall...or fail.

I was out the other day taking some photos, and walking back to my car as I glanced up and saw this solitary feathered "friend" soaring above the tree tops.  I quickly snapped a couple photos.  It was all I had time for as he was obviously on a direct flight path to  his destination.  But it made me remember those flying dreams, and the feeling I would have when I woke up.  Hmmm...hey Mr. Sandman, I could use me one of those dreams again...STAT.


--Kathy

But how do you know when...

...you have become who you really are?

"It Takes Courage"
(self-portrait #14)

MAYBE it is when you have the courage to focus in on your facial lines, post it for the world to see, and only cringe a little?  Determining who you really are is a tough business, but apparently recession proof because it is a line of work that just never seems to slow down or waiver.    I have gotten lost a few times meandering along this winding path towards "me".  I have felt at times like the Cowardly Lion muttering "C-C-C-Courage" while pushing myself forward.  There have been times I truly have not recognized myself and wondered how I could have gotten so lost.  Oh to have an internal GPS system when it's really needed...hello 40's.

"It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are."  One of my favorite quotes because it rings true to me.  Maybe you  are ALWAYS "who you really are"...at that moment in time.  Maybe you adore, or you can barely tolerate you...at that moment in time.  And maybe the courage is in recognizing when you are off course and adjusting your sails...at that moment in time.  I've come to realize "who you really are" isn't a stagnant goal or finish line.  It's always morphing into new shapes and forms throughout your life.  Which is a good thing.  I mean, that's one particular race I'm not eager to finish.

At this point, I'm kinda liking myself and where I am.  It's smooth sailing...I'm glad to see my 40's in the rear-view mirror (altho, not so glad to leave smooth wrinkle-free skin there).  And I'm looking forward to seeing "who I really am" will be in the years to come.  And I'm even excited to see what kind of C-C-C-Courage I'm gonna need to muster.   I don't need a Wizard to pin a Medal of Valor on me to validate "who I really am".  BUT...I'm thinking MAYBE those red ruby heels would do the trick.

Happy Monday!


--Kathy

Scavenger Hunt Sunday (4/15/12)...

Last Sunday came and went, with no Scavenger Hunt for moi.  Boo Hiss.  I have to admit I felt a twinge of failure for not participating.  And the Better Half kept telling me "Oh just go ahead and do it, ya know you wanna". Sometimes I just have to put down the camera and experience life around me uninterrupted, which is what I did since all my "Things" were home for the holiday.  But this is a new week, and I'm here again linking up with Ashley at Ramblings and Photos for this week's hunt because...ya KNOW I wanna.

This week's prompts are:  Transportation, Simple, Grain, Stitch, Bubble(s)


1.  Transportation

"Traffic Jam"

What better way to pass time while at a stand still than...to photograph it.  Plus, it gave me the perfect opportunity to experiment with different camera settings for night photography.  Altho, I just KNOW the ladies in the car next to me were talking about me.  Thank you to the car who decided to break down in the middle of an intersection...MEN DRIVERS!  ARGH!

2.  Simple

"Spring Blizzard"

Pretty amazing the effect a simple color like white can create when multiplied a zillion-fold.  A virtual spring blizzard...but NO shovelling.

3.  Grain

I pulled this photo from my Philly photo outing a couple weeks ago.  I was drawn to the texture of the grain in this wood coupled with the peeling paint.  HOW would I survive in a world without peeling paint to photograph?

4.  Stitch

A baseball stitching of course.  BUT...I am soooooo upset at my Phillies right now, DON'T even get me started!!!!!!

5.  Bubble(s)

Well, the intent was to give myself a manicure but...I got side-tracked with "James Dean",  AGAIN.

So glad to be back in the hunt.  Can't wait to see what everyone captured and their interpretations.  Yes, it feels like Sunday again, all is right in my world....EXCEPT those Phillies. 

--Kathy

linked to:

Courage, patriotism and...

...sacrifice transcends time and continues to inspire me today.

"Sacrifice"

Sacrifice.  I have to believe a nation which sacrifices for freedom, does not get beaten.  God bless our military, and their families.

--Kathy

Texture and Pattern...

Heavier on the photos, lighter on the words today (my nice way of warning you I'm dumping alot of photos on you).  Two things that always seem to grab my attention in life are Texture and Pattern.  Yep in food, fashion, decor, photography.  It is what usually prompts the question thrown my way "WHY are you taking a photo of THAT?" when people see my camera aimed at the non-obvious (not to mention I often have to get into some sort of contortionist position to capture exactly what has grabbed my attention).  I gravitate toward the subtleties over the obvious, which can be a problem when I travel and return home only to discover I didn't get a photo of...hmmmmm...The Sagrada Familia in Barcelona, just sayin'.  But hey!  I sure got a lot of photos of intriguing bits and pieces of that beauty.  Note to self:  don't forget the BIG picture all the time.  Wow, I think I just experienced an Oprah "aha moment" here for my life.

Thought I'd share some photos of some Philly-style "texture and pattern".  No cheese steaks are involved, because quite frankly altho tasty...you just shouldn't look at them THAT closely :).

Brick wall surrounding Christ Church Cemetery

Tombstone at Christ Church Burial Ground

Repetition of park benches

Does anyone know what kind of tree this is, that blooms flowers from the trunk?

Texture on architectural details

Rusted iron gates

Christ Church Cemetery gates

Repeating flags, and crumbling texture on side of exposed building, by Betsy Ross's Home

One of many cobble stoned alleys

Architectural details and peeling paint

Linear and circular patterns juxtaposed at the Ben Franklin Bridge

Repeating circular patterns and rust

Peeling paint

Curves vs. Linear patterns at Christ Church

Architectural patterns and details at Independence Hall

I TRY not to sweat the "small stuff" but, I certainly like to take notice of it.  Ironically, I JUST got a text from a high school friend  asking me if I was going to wear a dress to our upcoming reunion.  How appropos that I just texted back "All I have for sure right now are my SHOES", haha...there I go again ignoring the BIG picture.


--Kathy

Purple-ish? Blue-ish? A Cool Haze...

"A Cool Haze"

Not much to say here except, this is my front yard and my Better Half wants to rip these little babies out because they aren't very pretty once they are done blooming.  I'm fighting him on it.  Granted, he has a point BUT...both him and I are past our full blooms too.
Especially....him :)  Haha, sometimes I just can't resist.  I love you JUST the way you are Better Half.  Looks like I'll be cooking a good dinner tonight.


--Kathy

"The fog comes, on little cat feet...

"The fog comes, on little cat feet.
It sits looking over harbor and city.
On silent haunches, and then moves on"

--Carl Sandberg

Sometimes when I first wake up, I feel as if I'm walking around in a fog.  And SOMETIMES when I first wake up, I am lucky enough to find I really AM walking around in a fog.  

I love how fog can transform the familiar into the ethereal.  A dreamy state in morning mist.  Cloaked in a blanket of fog, biding time til the sun will break thru and disperse the world back to reality.  Yep, coffee works the same way with my morning foggy  head.  But it isn't quite so pretty.

My imagination runs with the beauty and mysteriousness of fog.  But then it lifts.  And I am back to reality.  Which today means...LAUNDRY.  Not so ethereal and dreamy, altho lemony fresh and cottony soft :).

Have a great Monday.


--Kathy

Baseball, Bums and Bliss...

"I like to look down on a field of green and white a summertime land of Oz,

a place to dream.  I've never been unhappy in a ballpark."

--Jim Murray, LA Times

"Summertime Land of Oz"
Thing #1

Back in 2010, I dipped my toe into the blogging world with "Don't Blink".  Ironically,  if you blinked you  would have missed it.  It was not the right fit for me at the time. Today is the first day of baseball season, hope springs eternal and we all root for teams with winning percentages for this one day only.  I am pulling out a post I wrote for "Don't Blink" about baseball and my dad, and added some archived photos.   This is a bit longer of a post and more personal in nature than I usually choose to share.  I love my dad, I love baseball.  One slips away from me a bit more day by day, due to Alzheimer's.  The other grows stronger for me day by day, as a connection to my dad.  The two are intertwined in my heart and soul.  I am so glad my dad got to experience Thing #1's foray into college and minor league baseball before his memory began to fade.  I'm sure it helped ease the "pain" of being the only male in a household full of gals for years and years :).

"My All-Star"
Philadelphia circa 1949

Spring...the season of new beginnings.  The heck with daffodils waking and poking thru the ground, I'm focused more on bats coming out of hibernation and poking hits thru the infield.  For me, there is nothing that evokes spring better than the sound of a wood bat hitting the rawhide and the smell of fresh grass intertwined with the aroma of popcorn.  It has been said that whoever wants to know the heart and mind of  America had better learn baseball.  Those who know yours truly, say the same about moi.  When it comes to baseball, I know more than the average Joe.  I have more than once caught an unsuspecting man by surprise with my baseball savvy.  This is due in part to my above-average 'non-Joe' of a dad...Don.

"Man's Best Friend"
Chicago, IL

If there is one constant in my life, a place where I can totally concentrate on the here and now and block out everything else life throws my way, it is a baseball game.  Nine innings of total bliss where the clock is obsolete and I am completely honed in and focused.  The perfect combination of individualism and team work, the attributes that define America also define it's homegrown sport.  Baseball is forever linked in my mind to childhood, a blue transistor radio, and collecting the entire 1971 Phillies starting line up in photos with each fill-up at the local Sunoco station.  It is also linked eternally to the sentiment "THOSE BUMS!", which I would hear my dad spit out every time the Phillies blew a game..which apparently was the entire decade of the 1970's!

I find it quite funny, in a cosmic sense, that my dad was "blessed" with a family of three DAUGHTERS!  I am talking about a former ballplayer who was never able to play a game of catch, debate the pros and cons of the designated hitter, discuss the art of calling pitches, the beauty of a perfectly timed double play, the folly of a suicide squeeze, teach how to keep an official score card or how to break in a catcher's mitt...to a son.  I'm sure he thought the love of the game would be unrequited by his girls.  I never played ANY sport.  The only thing I could catch was a fire baton...albeit in a minuscule outfit while wearing knee high white boots.  My dad should have appreciated the fact that no outfielder could catch a fly ball under similar circumstances with such finesse.

"A Place to Dream"
Philadelphia, PA

But come to love the game I did.  And the love has been passed down the family tree to all my Things (both son AND daughters).  It is probably only within the last couple of years I have been able to identify the reasons WHY I love the game and make the connection to my dad.   Dad was a police officer and District Justice.  Growing up, his world was black and white with few shades of grey to link the two extremes.  You were either wrong, or you were right (I was usually wrong).  I have been accused of the same color-blindness by my own kids.  In reality, he was a perfect umpire disguised as my dad.  The authority and decisiveness he would use to make his calls on my actions might as well have been "You're OUTTA here!" ejections from the game.  And just like you never show up an ump  by arguing a call...the same went for my dad, lest I be benched indefinitely.

"Can I Have Your Autograph?"
Thing #1

Just like my dad, baseball is a thing of beauty due to it's precise and honest nature.  It's a dramatic game, a thinking man's game played out under strict guidelines and confines with clear decisions.  Baseball encompasses everything that my dad, and life,  does.  Crime and punishment, cause and effect, motive and result, ying and yang.  If life were only as simple and easy as differentiating between strike or ball, fair or foul, safe or out, black or white.  There is an easiness of order that I find comforting.  No matter how complex or complicated my life might be at a given moment, I can count on baseball to be a calm oasis and place to re-focus.

"Brother, Sister, Baseball, Bonding"
Things #1 and #3

Funny how sometimes it takes a lifetime to recognize what is obvious and has been under your nose your whole life.   My dad is the personification of the game of baseball.  Baseball is also known as a sport of fathers and sons.  But occasionally, a lucky daughter will sneak into the mix.

Love ya Dad,

--Kathy