Tag: travel (Page 2 of 3)

A Month With My Mother, Day 3

why on earth didn’t somebody tell me that my mouth was having trouble keeping up with my words? good lord. that’s kinda’ like having lipstick on your teeth or leaving the bathroom with your skirt tucked up in your panties. well, hopefully, it’s fixed now. which is why day 3 is going up on day 4.

i had a lot to learn.

and buy. . .

~~~
i’m still doing the old perfect protest.

inception: before and after

shadowsonthebridge.JPG

 

i’ve been dreaming lately.

i love it when i do that.

i’m still trying to decipher some of them.

like the one 2 nights ago about eyebrows.

yes, eyebrows.

eyebrows: hair that protects the eyes by acting as an umbrella, barring entry to would-be vision villains like sweat and dandruff and rain.

eyebrows: those hairy communication tools that are so supportive in strengthening expressions like surprise and anger and disapproval.

i spent the entire dream plucking my eyebrows, and let me tell you: i was giddy with glee having thinned my overpopulated brows and rid my face of strays and runaways.

am i freeing my vision?

altering the way i see things?

getting rid of the superfluous without erasing the necessary?

or do i need/want to pay more attention to my physical appearance?

or maybe get my eyes checked?

(i’m never more indecisive than when it comes to interpreting dreams.)

i spent last night’s dreamtime preserving – funneling hot, gooey, colorful future nourishment through metal wide-mouthed funnels into scalded bell jars.

again, i was giddy with happiness.

honestly, i’d kinda’ hoped for something a little saucier to write about in my dream journal this morning after seeing the movie “inception” yesterday. but no, i just ladeled food into glass jars all night long.

but still, there’s much to chew on . . .

summers spent in my grandmother’s kitchen peeling, boiling, stirring, ladeling. the summer my sister and mother joined me at our farm. we picked pears off the tree that morning and by bedtime, we had jars and jars filled with pear preserves – the best i’ve ever tasted.

is this a dream about memories? i can’t think of a single word or incident in my entire yesterday that would’ve triggered a dream about summertime memories.

women providing sustenance for the winter – is there a message there?

is this a harbinger of famine?

a call to focus (my f-word) and funnel?

sigh.

for me, dream interpretation is best left to the dark early hours, those marvelous, magical hours when anything – anything at all – is possible. my life has been so different in those hours. i am such a different person in those hours.

then the sun makes its presence known, and the magic melts away, though i’m no longer sure why it has to.

different branches? trees? forests?

shuttlelaunch1.jpg

shuttlelaunch2.jpg

the sign on the elevator said the launch was scheduled for 6:30 this morning, but when we got to the tiki hut bar at 6:25, we saw that we’d arrived in time to see the shuttle traveling across the sky, but too late to see the actual launch. my daughter blamed the hotel, saying they should’ve posted the CORRECT time, dammit. (she’s not a morning person.)

my mother (bless her heart) was just thankful we caught her and redirected her to the tiki hut bar instead of letting her walk on to godknowswhere.

me, i spent the rest of the day thinking about authority. about our role and responsibility in being, recognizing, and following authority.

we’re here on holiday, as my friend karen would say. in hilton head, my mother, my daughter and me. enjoying a 3-g (3 generations) week of togetherness.

on the drive down yesterday, i just can’t tell you how thrilled we were to have been informed that the stoppers on aunt lucy’s salt and pepper shakers need to be replaced. fortunately mother brought the ancient, worn-out stoppers with her so we can spend the week looking for replacements. the launch and now this. and to think i wondered what on earth we would do with ourselves for 5 days on the beach.

sunriseathhi.jpg

waterfallaholics

i’m not an outside girl.

i’m not.

i just don’t like going outside. give me a window-laden, temperature-controlled room then leave me alone to treat the great outdoors as my own personal aquarium, and i’m good.

now i don’t know why i don’t like the outdoors, and i know i should be ashamed of myself because, really, what kind of person doesn’t love being outdoors? maybe it’s residual trauma from the time my mother insisted that i, the adorable little teensy jeanne, go outside to play. “no thank you,” i told her as i continued adding to my word collection which, for reasons that escape me to this very day, incited her to hoist me up, march outside, and sit me in my ruffled panties and ruffled socks and patent leather baby janes in the first mud puddle she came to. maybe it’s memories of my life as a miserable human bug magnet which resulted in summer legs covered in never-ceasing-to-itch bug bites. or maybe it’s because i have this, well, let’s just say unique eye thing going on that deprives me of depth perception meaning i don’t see a hole in the ground until i’m down in it.

it could be because we are hugely in love with waterfalls, but whatever the reason, something came over me yesterday, and i heard myself say an enthusiastic “yes” when hubbie asked if i wanted to make an impromptu stop and hike to glen falls.

glenfalls1.jpg

i do lean towards authority issues, so that could be why i insisted we heed the advice carved into the post of the large bulletin board instead of availing ourselves of the plethora of printed information covering the actual board.

the hike started out easy enough with a rather gentle slope and relatively smooth ground. but soon enough came the trees and the accompanying exposed roots – which are interesting to look at, but can make someone with no depth perception a tad unsteady. on the up side, though, my small feet fit nicely into the little nooks and crannies created by the roots on the ever-increasingly sloped ground. (i also noticed that it was easier to walk when i put my feet down like i meant it instead of letting them tentatively feel around the ground before each step. just as in life, there’s something to be said for confidence.)

the sound of the falls grew louder until eventually we came to what surely is glen falls. while my husband took pictures from the paved and heavily-railed prepared-for-the-public photo spot beside the falls:

glenfalls2.jpg

i made my way down to the cutest little spot between two trees right at the tipytop edge of the 200 foot drop – a spot where only two size 5.5 feet will fit – to take my snaps:

glenfalls3.jpg

good news: footing was easier to come by on the trek back.

bad news: the trek back was all uphill . . . and i declare i think somebody stood that mountain up a little straighter while we were taking pictures of the falls.

glenfalls4.jpg

i flunked out of girl scouts, so i’m always a little reluctant to move slowly or breathe loudly when on the rare outdoor adventure with my former eagle scout husband which meant i moved up the trail at a pretty fast clip. when we eventually came to a little ole’ bitty clearing, you’d’ve thought i’d never seen mountains, trees, and sky as i took umpteen pictures as a clever cover for catching my breath.

i’m certainly no expert on trail etiquette, but when we met the folks going down to the falls, it seemed the only courteous thing to do was to step aside and wait quietly to let them pass by. (okay, i would’ve said “hey” but i didn’t have enough breath. shoot, i barely had enough breath to smile at them.)

we made it back to the parking lot in the same day, i’ll have you know, and today i have only one teensy little double bug bite on my arm to show for my woodsy efforts. (don’t mistake that for a complaint.)

what did i learn from this little impromptu adventure? number one: pack those dryer sheets cause somebody told me to rub myself down with fabric softener and bugs will leave me alone. number two: step like you mean it. and number three: is there a mountain hike game for the wii fit cause honestly, i have to tell you that i much prefer looking at a waterfall from the heavily-cushioned rocking chair on our deck.

fruits just aren’t my color

this is what i dream my life will look like:

japanesegardenbridge.jpg

this is what it usually looks like by the end of any given day:

roastedpig.jpg

(hint: it’s a pig that’s been slaughtered, stuffed, and buried with hot coals.)

and i’m working on changing that.
it’s just that reprogramming a lifetime of
ingrained influences
takes a while.
longer than i expected, actually.
but i’m on it
(most of the time)
cause really,
i don’t look that good in
pineapple.

denver or bust (aka: best road trip)

okay, so it was last year not this year, and it was a bigass yellow truck and not a car, but it was still the best road trip i’ve had in a while: summer of 2008 when we moved my boy from california to colorado. it wins Most Fabulous Trip because we were moving my boy closer to me! okay, listen. i was out the day they taught geography, so let’s just go with colorado is closer to me than southern california and leave it at that.

hubbie and i drove the bigass yellow truck (i think it was a 148-footer, but i’m not a numbers girl, so don’t quote me on that) while kipp and his former girlfriend led in his car. it was a gorgeous trip – mountains of every hue and description. here’s the view from the passenger’s seat doing as we moved along at (roughly) the speed limit:

we start with the los angeles mountains (look familiar, emma?)

mtns1.jpg

and move to a hint of green:

mtns3.jpg

then a splash of red:

mtns2.jpg

mtns6.jpg

some stripes to keep things interesting:

mtns7.jpg

some just plain fun:

mtns8.jpg

and finally:

mtns4.jpg

grandchild rode with us. i forget his its name. starts with a “z” i think.

grandchild1.jpg

or maybe it’s a her-it since she/it (don’t say that out loud) does like to shop and try on pinks:

grandchild2.jpg

here we have grandchild playing buddha:

grandchild3.jpg

and i’ll leave you (you’re welcome) with:

grandchild5.jpg

best09
~~~
the stories are mine, but credit for the kindling goes to gwen bell and her best of 2009 blog challenge.
~~~

Technorati Tags:
#best09, #bestof2009

querencia

my querencia (spanish for a place where you feel safe, at home, protected, invincible) is here:

woods1.jpg

and here

falls1.jpg

and here:

falls2.jpg

oh, and here:

hhi.jpg

but perhaps my #1 favorite querencia is here:

shower.jpg

that’s right: the shower.

it’s not much to look at, but i like to call it home as often as possible.

it’s there i can relax and

wash away all the day’s dirt and dreariness.

it’s always 5:00 in the shower

where i can sit on the ledge and

and do my best thinking

with a glass of wine or a martini.

in the shower, i can be totally alone.

there’s no phone – just running water

to drown out the sounds of the day around me.

besides the car, it’s where i do my best (and loudest) singing.

i can be totally alone there.

the cats don’t like the shower very much,

the dog can’t open the door,

and my kids are old enough to know that if they wander in,

they’ll go blind at the sight.

#best09
~~~
the story is mine, but credit for the kindling goes to gwen bell and her best of 2009 blog challenge.
~~~

Technorati Tags:
#best09

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Hey, Sugar! I'm Jeanne Hewell-Chambers: writer ~ stitcher ~ storyteller ~ one-woman performer ~ creator & founder of The 70273 Project, and I'm mighty glad you're here. Make yourself at home, and if you have any questions, just holler.

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