The Watering Hole

So, have I been missing this blog, or what?
Excuse one:

got my professional website up and running http://communityadviser.com

Excuse Two: been facilitating seminars and workshops all over the place
N omore excuses.

I just looked at my title of my Blogspot and it reminded me of a thought that I had earlier today.
People are not meant to live in a desert.
A desert, by its very landscape and heat and winds scream "uninhabitable".
My desert- the Coachella Valley was never meant to be lived in even by the people who came and built houses here. It was a place to get away from life- not live life.

But my very wise husband mentioned this morning also that below the surface of the desert, there is water- you just have to find it.
My friends and I are finding it- figuratively speaking.
Every time I start to chafe and long to get myself back to a big city- where the excited topic of conversation is not yet another Fresh and Easy or a Soup Plantation-I think...."you are part of a great experiment here." This place has generations and cultures; it has rich and poor; it has places of higher learning, and places of high rollers.

Maybe I will stick around and see how this place shakes out.

And They All Lived....

I emailed my friend Lissa and told her we were coming up the mountain to see where Santa had hidden Christmas. Everyone knows that Christmas is in Idyllwild.....

It was a plan!

We were going.

Then somewhere around 3am, I started to feel the need to go to Riverside.

????

When I mentioned it to Bruce, he was all for it.

??????

We lived in Riverside for a while and the Mission Inn, the ice skating on the Civic Center Mall and the Godiva Chocolate store all beckoned.

OKay.....A simple afternoon in our old hometown.

But it turned out to be a rescue mission.

Bruce and I had stopped by Riverside Plaza to lunch at a favorite restaurant and to" oo ahh" at the Christmas pretties.

And that is when we saw her.

She was sitting in a little shop amid her smartly wrapped purchases.

The Carols were floating through the air.

The smell of cider and bayberry and good cheer wafted around her.

And yet she looked so all alone.

We knew she needed a home.

“This lady is going home with us, we told the shopkeeper", brooking no arguments.

And so she did.

You Light Up My Life...

Today I saw something that touched my heart.

Out here, in the back o’ beyond, our shiny new (and utterly devoid of personality) houses share the air and mountains with homes that have been here for many, many years.

Some of them are down dirt roads.

Some are still working farms and ranches.

And some are “just” where people live.

As I turned in to the BOB this evening, I saw a man walking toward to his fence with his ancient and patient dog by his side. He was carefully carrying one string of lights that he always puts on the fence.

Just one string of merry colored lights that greet us as we turn in to the BOB.

No reindeer that bob their wire heads….no Santas that tower over the house.

Just one string of lights that he hangs with care as his dog watches the annual ritual.

And every night, right about this time, he and his dog will plug in the extension cord that stretches to their front porch.

And that one string of lights will make his fence glow and all of us will smile.

It must be Christmas.