Still Looking

For my peaceful place.  Things came to a head yesterday for one part of the craziness and it wasn't nearly as bad I I'd expected.  Another part isn't close to being closed, so there's that to still angst over.  :shrug:  I'm motoring along like always.  And hey, my brain hasn't exploded yet, so that's something.  Right?

In the meantime, I'm taking the night off.  Here's another pic for you to enjoy, though...

I say the avocets were having a footrace and the bird on the right decided to cheat.  What d'ya think?

Finding A Peaceful Place

Things around here are kinda crazy right now.  Personally, I'd like to go hide out at Mom's house for a month.  She's got a spare bed and she's the most relaxed person I know.  Total stress free human being.  Hell, even her heart attack a while back wasn't stress induced.  Of course, running away and hiding doesn't help.  Everything you want to escape is still there when you get back.  And you always have to go back eventually.

Yesterday I took off from the house for a little while.  I went for a walk and took the camera.  I didn't go very far.  I just walked the alleyways near the house, snapping pics of whatever caught my eye.  The above pic was a couple blocks from here and it's not of anything special, but it just looked so serene.  A peaceful place to escape to without actually leaving.

Another peaceful place I escaped to yesterday was into my novel.  I shut the world away into a little box and typed.  Sure, the writing itself wasn't serene or peaceful, but just being able to get away - even if I never actually left - helped.  Plus, I got 3000 words out last night, which always makes me feel good.

Where do you go when you want to run away but you can't actually leave?  Do you take a walk or can you escape into a book you're either reading or writing?  Do peaceful pictures help?

Memorial Day

In honor of Memorial Day, here's an awesome video of the Marine Corps Marching Band doing Sousa's Stars and Stripes Forever.



Take today to remember those who gave their lives fighting for what they believed in - life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

Picture Pause - Bird 'Tude

We all know cats have attitude, but did you know birds can give you attitude, too?  This is a Western Kingbird, and yeah, he's giving me the 'tude.  But hey, as long as he's eating all the moths his little belly can hold, he can give me whatever attitude he wants.

(Of course, it could be giving me 'tude because I keep calling it a him and it's really a her.  If so, she needs to cut me some slack.  It's hard to tell with some birds.)

Have a great Memorial Day weekend if you're here in the states.  Otherwise, just have a great weekend.  ;o)

Talks Too Much

Years ago I was flipping through some stuff my mother had saved from my childhood.  In the box was a stack of old report cards.  I wasn't the best student in the world, but even with that, I got mostly As and Bs.  Not really remarkable.  What was remarkable were the constant notations of 'Talks too much' - every term for damn near every grade.

I don't remember a lot of my childhood.  I think I vaguely remember being told to be quiet on at least a few occasions.  (Or it could just be a memory of a memory of someone else telling me about it.)  I know my mother tells the story of when I was small and she asked me why I wouldn't be quiet.  My reply "I was born to talk". 

Thinking about all of this now, it makes me wonder if all of that has carried to now.  You can't actually hear me on the internet, but I'm still out here talking.  I comment on blogs and Facebook.  I write this blog.  I tweet - albeit sporadically.  And looking back at those long ago teacher comments, I wonder if perhaps I might talk too much.

Sometimes when I comment on another person's blog, I look up at the other comments and note those are like a line, maybe two, while my comment is a couple paragraphs.  That's when the elementary school teachers invade my brain.  "You're doing it again.  You're talking too much.  No one's going to like you if you don't stop talking so much."

:shrug:  If they only knew.

So, I'm a chatterbox.  It's who I am.  I'm the daughter of a consummate salesman and the youngest of five children.  If I didn't talk so much I would've never been heard.  And really, how much is 'too much'?  I'm guessing the poor sap who gets stuck behind me in line at the grocery store probably thinks I talk too much.  (Yeah, I can easily turn a quick stop at the store into a fifteen minute conversation.)  I try to be considerate of those around me, but... well... that's not always possible.

I need to just accept who I am and stop worrying so damn much.  Ya know what I mean?  So what if my comments are way longer than everyone else's.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that if the comments I'm leaving on your blog are too damn long, now's your chance to speak up.  I'll try to honor your wishes.  I may not always succeed because hey, I'm still that little girl who talks too much.

;o)

Now it's your turn to fess up: What was the most frequent comment on your old report cards?

Picture Pause - Fly on White Iris

I don't know if you can see it on there, but there's a housefly on the white iris.  I didn't plan it.  Hell, I didn't even know it was there until I downloaded the pics and looked closely.  Without the damn bug, this would be a frame-able shot.  With the bug, it's just a curiosity.

Unlike this shot, where I aimed for the bee. 

I'm not a fan of bugs in general, but I think that one is worth taking a picture of - especially since its color offsets so nicely against the purple flower.  Green bee = pretty.  Housefly = gross.

Playtime is Over

This morning on Jeffe Kennedy's blog post Doggedness, Stick-to-it-iveness and Perseverance she mentions an encounter with a three year old - Betsy - and something the little girl said that's now stuck in my brain.  “I *was* having fun, but I’m not having fun anymore!”

I think Jeffe talked about it in reference to trying to find the fun when all it feels like you're doing is working, but it hit me a little different.  For me, I keep wondering if I haven't been playing Betsy for months now.

I think I might be sitting around pouting because I'm not having fun anymore.   :stomps one foot in disgust:  And I wanna be having fun.  Dang it.

Oh puleeze.

Nobody said any of this was going to be fun.  And I'm way too old to throw a pout-fest when it's not so much fun.  This is my frickin' job.  Sure, I'd like if it was fun all the time, but the reality of it is that it's work - sometimes damn hard work.  If I wanted it to be fun all the time, I'd just sit here writing and never bother to edit.  I'd never bother to try and get my work into some publishable shape.  I'd just write and write, like I did when I was a little girl.

Heh, maybe that's why I have so many manuscripts I never really finished.  I wasn't willing to put forth the effort, and now I've got so much work to do it seems insurmountable.  (But that's a theory for another day.)

Needless to say, my inner Betsy needs to take a nap.  Or sit in a time-out for a few weeks so I can get some genuine, totally un-fun work done.  Playtime is over, little girl.

So, regardless of whether this is supposed to be my day to relax or whether I have other more fun things to do, I need to spend some serious time doing serious things.

What do you have planned for the weekend?