Two People Walking

I went for a walk with my son tonight.
We were three thousand miles apart, but we walked and talked and watched the cell phone minutes tick by,

I watched the shadows wash across the Indio Hills.
He watched the skaters in Rockefeller Plaza.



I sipped on my bottled water.
He contemplated coffee at Dean & Deluca.





I watched the planes go across the sky.

He watched the skyscrapers touch the sky.




The air around me felt like spring time
The air around him felt like....November.



I went home to make dinner
He Headed off to Rue 57 to meet his wife and friends.

Good night, New York.
Wherever you are.

100 sheets...200 pages...all mine...

When people know you like to write, they tend to buy you journals.

Leather journals with slick pages.

Journals that just scream for important words.

I have journals from museum shops, from bookstores around the world, and from very snazzy stationery shops.

I have journals covered in green suede and journals that look like they belonged to Charles Dickens.

They are all beautiful and precious - and they all scare the heck out of me.

Which is why I always end up dusting off and admiring the beautiful journals and then scribbling my words in one of these

My good old composition book does not care if I cross out or erase. I don't have to sound smart. I don't have to be erudite. I can just write and write..... and write. and that feels right.

.

ButterBeeHappy.com

Here Comes the Parade!!

We got a phone call from our oldest son Jason this morning. That is, thankfully, not unusual. He calls almost every morning to "have coffee" with us before he starts his day in Laguna Beach. But today, the call came as he was barreling toward New York City from Long Island. He and his wife Georgette are in The City for two weeks to spend the holiday with Georgette's sister Darcy and her incredible family.

But this is not just about Thanksgiving!

This is a much bigger deal than a National Holiday!
The very big deal! We are "loopt" with our son, so we were able to follow them on our phones today as they made their way to New York and the rehearsal hall on Avenue of the Americas. Jason and Georgette are there to see their niece Haley is going to be IN the Macy's parade. We are "loopt" with our son, so we were able to follow them on our phones today as they made their way to New York and the rehearsal hall on Avenue of the Americas on to Times Square and then back home (where was this gadget when he was 15 and I was always pulling my hair out trying to figure out where he was???)

Anyhow- Back to the Macy's Parade!
Very big deal!!!

You have to understand that the Macy's Parade is a sacred ritual in our New York born and bred family. We all watch it and most of us have attended it- but now- we have someone IN the parade.

And not just anyone! It's our Haley- an extremely talented and delightful young lady who is going to steal America's heart away.

Man, I wish my mom and dad were still with us!

They would be bragging up down Brooklyn Heights about this one!

Dropping By My Life

A young friend of mine and I were kicking around the Valley this afternoon. We visited what I consider my private sanctuary (The Gardens at El Paseo). Few shoppers….nearby coffee…lots of benches …dog friendly. We sat beneath the trees with Daisy the Wonder Dog and let the week pass fall off of us; breathing deeply for perhaps the first time in days.

My friend is younger than I am- by many decades. But she has what the sages would call an old soul. I knew I was there to ask her a question. To get her blessing. To just see what she had to say.

Me: There is an awful lot to be done in the world and a lot of people doing important work.

Wise Young Friend: And? (I was waiting for her to add "Grasshopper", but that didn't happen....)

M: and ….I am here.

WYF….The Valley is a small place, that’s true.

M: Shouldn’t I be out “there” doing something?

WYF: A drop in the bucket.

M: Excuse me?

WYF: It is all a drop in the bucket. It doesn’t matter where you put it. This is your bucket. Take care of the people around you.

I wonder if she ever gets tired of being so young and so wise.

Loaves and Wishes

The other day I read a scripture that, as often happens, I saw in a new light.

It is a story we all know.

Jesus has been teaching the multitudes; it is getting on in the day; and there is no food.

The disciples point this out to Jesus; but the question they are faced with I suspect was a surprise.

He said: How many loaves do you have?

When I read those words, I felt as though I was standing on that windy hill in Israel 2000 years ago and the question was being asked of me directly.

Each day, I tut- tut over the unemployment, the homelessness, the grief, the loss and the pain in my world. And, in my defense, each day I pray- Lord, relieve the suffering.

But now, I know His answer.

“How many loaves do you have?”

His Desert...His Life

The words keep revolving in my head:

This is my desert….this is my life.

My young friend Dillon used those words when he was interviewed by the local news for a video piece. What nobody knew was that it would also be his eulogy and his memorial. One week after the video was released online, he went home to be with the Lord.

I was with Dillon the day that the video was released doing a bit of tutoring and helping him catch up and organize his work. His grades had been slipping. When I asked him if he was concerned, he looked at me with those gentle eyes and said frankly and without any rancor: I don’t care about it. He said he would try to do well in school, but if he did not, that was just the way it was. He then brightened up and asked me if I wanted to go and meet his ducks and his goats.

Dillon's desert is one that people racing around in golf carts or going to mixers and luncheons just don't seem to get. There are 75,000 acres of farmland in the Coachella Valley and Dillon and his 4H friends live in it and for it. They raise livestock, vegetables, and have developed a strong community that tolerates but barely takes notice of our tourism and social shenanigans.

When he said those words: This is my desert, this is my life, I realized that this 13 year old kid had done what most of us are struggling to do - he had a life.

He had friends....an estimated 1000 people showed up for his memorial.

He knew what was important...he was up at dawn to care for his animals. He made his friends smile and laugh. He loved his kid brother and his mom and dad.

He had a purpose....see for yourself.

http://www.mydesert.com/article/20081104/LIFESTYLES14/311040002

In My Sky Tonight

In my sky...in my own little backyard right here in Southern California...right now...I can see Venus and Jupiter. They are just hanging around in the sky over my house.
The hills are covered with shadows.
The desert silence is complete.
There is nothing much going on....except Venus and Jupiter are right over our house and I can see them.
Isn't that amazing?

Grace In Not Giving

Let us not overstrain our talents, for if we do, we will do nothing with grace. Jean de la Fontaine


Last night, I got an email from my local American Cancer Society chairperson. It opened with an apology for being remiss in staying in touch. That was followed immediately by a desperate call for volunteers for upcoming events. I could mentally see myself ripping my shirt open a la Clark Kent revealing a huge and blazing V :


SuperVolunteer!!!!!

Then, I looked at my pile of work…the looming holidays….the dog with the wistful”I wanna go walking” look on her face, and the husband who pretty well depends on me as social secretary and kick-around- the- valley –hey-let’s-go-to- the-beach-buddy, the grandkids and kids I want to see, the friends who need a friend..... and I for once re-think the urge to be everywhere at once.

I have volunteered for the American Cancer Relay in Yucca Valley in April and I have promised The Girl Friend Factor some help in their great work of providing scholarships to returning students.

Gulp. That’s it?

Yup…that’s it.

Leave room for grace.
Leave room for breathing.
Leave room for others to help also.

Gee, this feels good!

Work is needling me...

My fictions sit silently by my reading chair, occasionally riffling their pages to try and beckon. My knitting needs roll around restlessly wondering when we are going to get on with the task of making scarves and caps and blankets. I think I even saw my quilting needle trying to make tiny stitches without me.

At the moment, I am AWOL from the creative life as I teach two classes and take one myself all online. It does not help that my home office is nested in the middle of all the lovely fabrics and books and yarns that I would love to be playing with.

I promise them all I will be back soon.

Tea and Roses and Dreams Come True

On Saturday, I spent a most wonderful day at the Huntington Library with my husband Bruce, our son Jason and his wonderful wife Georgette.

It was splendid.

We had lunch in the Rose Tea Room

And wandered through the spectacular gardens

But it was the thought behind the afternoon that will always stay with me.

When I decided to go back to school and finish my degrees in late 90's, I was sent on one of those ghastly field trips to the Huntington. The purpose of the trip eludes me now...but the goal I set does not.

When I was there, I found out that there was a Scholar's Library that you must be a ...well, you must be a scholar in order to request admission. As I stood there with my ten little community college credits grasped tightly in my heart, I promised myself that I would one day gain access.

And now I have.

My family remembered.

And I will never forget that they did.

Thank you.

The Plod Quickens

I can plod. I can persevere in any definite pursuit. To this I owe everything.

William Carey

I have a cold.

I am rather fond of this cold because I got it from my granddaughter when I was carrying her about on Halloween.

I will probably even miss the sniffles when they go away because they are a little attachment to her across the miles.

As much as I would like to snuggle in my reading chair, sipping herbal tea and feeling cozy in a robe with my tissues close at hand- life goes on, and the cold will simply have to join me on my daily rounds.

And so off I go…on a

walk…one foot in front of the other for my daily dose of three miles.

grumble grumble sniffle sniffle

I have to do it...I don't have to like it

I guess it is a metaphor for life.

When there is something to be done…and you know what it is....then best to be doing it.

Today, as you plod and persevere, my sniffles and I salute you.

Paine-Staking

We have it in our power to begin the world over again.

Thomas Paine 1776

I saw this quote on a visit to the Huntington Library yesterday. As is the case with so much of what Mr. Paine said, sadly the ideal did not always bear out in fact. This was evident in the pictures and writings in the next display that showed the horrors and atrocities as newly minted Americans mowed down cultures in their indefatigable quest for land and riches.

But it was the loveliest of Southern California afternoons, and we had just had a superb tea luncheon at the Rose Garden Café with our son and his wife; so I lifted the carpet of time and swept my dark thoughts beneath.

But something beckoned, so I decided to give Mr. Paine another chance and re-read his quote:

We have it in our power to begin the world over again.

This time, of course, I thought of how this election can and has changed us as a people.

This was a shinier thought, and I let it linger.

Nope...still not quite the thing.

One more look….

We have it in our power to begin the world over again.

And when I got home, I wrote the words in a careful hand, and I put them on my mirror

My mantra

My marching orders

My mandate

Now I understand, Mr. Paine. Thank you.

Lagunatics

Bruce and I love the desert, but we are Beach Bums at heart.
These were from our last trip to Laguna

Bruce and Jason enjoying the view




















Too beautiful for words

Barefootin'

He that scatters thorns, let him not go barefoot.

Poor Richards Almanac

There is change afoot.

Let us tread softly and surely forward; but never kick anyone to the side of the road.

There is litter up ahead. There will be - there are- people spewing anger and hate.

So adopt a road. Where you work, or play or worship: Walk among those who rant and rave and spread a mulch of optimism.

Eventually, the good stuff will take root.

There is a long road ahead.

Let us pack provisions of cooperation, and caring; leaving behind all those things that make us what we never want to be.

There are miles to go before we sleep.

Let us take the first watch.

Let us scatter before us and leave behind seeds of faith, hope and love that will grow in to the trees that those who follow will live under in peace.

Common Sense

I do not have a lot of fears. OK…you will never catch me on a cable car climbing up the side of a mountain.

But my true fear does not lie in concern for personal safety, or even in missing the half yearly sale at Nordstroms.

My real fear has always been of being a cliché’.

Of being ordinary.

Of being just average.

Of course, it has taken me some maturity to realize that there is no “average” person; that we are all unique and molded by life in different ways for different reasons.

Maturity has also shown me that my uniqueness does not come from an address, or clothes or income.

If I truly want to be unique- if you truly want to be uncommon- try being positive.

I have an assignment for you. Watch faces and conversations on the street, in restaurants, in cars- wherever you go today.

You will see people grinding axes…grinding their teeth….grinding away.

They are focused on what is wrong, who is wrong, and how it is wrong.

Common. Very, very common.

When I lived in LA, I always lived in the hills. It was important to me to be “above it all”. God had to bring me below sea level to show me that the real heights are all in my mind- and that is “the above it all” where I want to live.

Join me?

Where to begin

It seems as good a time as any to begin a blog of my own. It seems I spend so much time blogging for the newspaper, and magazines and just with friends that I really have not thought about the idea of a "room of my own". So here I am.

Time will tell where this will go.
But for right now.....well....here I am.