Prickly

I need to take some more photos. My daughters have been using my cameras to take pictures for on their ipods. I need them back. I'm feeling pretty good today. Pretty mellow and ok with things. I hope the feeling lasts.

A matter of perspective

My daughters insist that the chickens chase them. I believe that the chickens are only following them.

A simple concept, no big deal really, who cares if one is being chased or followed by a chicken? But when you think about it, following can be much more preferable than being chased. Kind of. Being chased can cause feelings of fear, being followed can be some kind of flattery. Or that the chicken loves you and wants to be with you (or, more likely, wants a treat!).

Sometimes I have a really hard time seeing the brighter side of things. One thing that I do when I am feeling blue is to thank people. I guess it may be kind of creepy but I don't think we thank each other enough. I don't think I let other people know the differences they make in my life.

So I'm sitting here feeling as if I'm sliding down the slope to depression. Again. And my head tells me that I am important to somebody. Even though my kids mostly seem as if they don't really need me (I know that's not true). Even though my husbands acts as if he would rather be anywhere but with me (I know that is true). I know that something I do, somehow is going to impact someone or something else. Whether it is a smile or a thank you, for a split second I can influence someone's day.

I had an acquaintance who committed suicide a few weeks ago. I wonder if would have made a difference if I had told him that he had given me the best haircut I'd ever had? As I sat with a mutual friend, she wondered if she could have done anything to change the course of events. From my perspective, this man was a gifted hair artist and from the comments on his obituary, a very valued friend. But apparently from his own perspective, his was a life that wasn't worth living. From the perspective of those who knew him, he was an important part of the world.

Perspectives: yours, mine. Whose is right?

Falling.....

I hope not. But I'm beginning to feel~or should I say~not feel. Not feel. Years ago I was treated for depression. I had divorced, lost my home, was recovering from an illness, moved away from my family with my two children - all within 6 months. It was too much. And I lost all of my feelings. I didn't realize it however, until I saw the ocean for the first time. And had no feelings in response to it! I wasn't amazed. I wasn't awed. Nothing. I sat there staring at this sight I had dreamed about for so long - this long expanse of water and beach and the sunset and felt nothing.

But writing this, I am feeling. Sad. And sad is ok because it is a feeling. I should have expected this due to the move in my office. I love change but sometimes it affects me negatively for a while. And I need to deal with it. I may want to feel happy and I will, again. I feel pounded down. I feel like everyone wants something from me. I feel that there are things I need to do and don't know how to do them.

I feel like crying. I'm thinking awful things. Awful 'what-if' things. I've lost the time to sit quietly and read. I no longer make quilts. I want to make baskets but don't. I need to get back to me. I need to just do this.

The 4th of July at One Old Goat Farm

The 4th of July at One Old Goat Farm was pretty low key. Low key, but fun! For the past several years, we've had a family badmitten tournament. All the kids are part of it~from youngest to oldest (me)~but this year was different. My oldest son Ryan had to work and wasn't able to participate. This year was also different because it was the first year in ages that my husband didn't have to work. Which is good thing, but also a bad thing. Not having to work 12 hours on 4th of July means that the bean harvest isn't as good as it has been in years past. But he was able to be part of the annual badmitten tourney for the first time. He l-o-s-t! Really though, we all win. How the tournament works is, everyone play everyone else. Each team can drop the birdy 3 times and the team who has batted the birdy back and forth the most times, wins. For the final round, we let Sebastian, my lab with a taste for badmitten birdies, participate. This adds a whole new twist to the game.

Gangsta Dog

With no TV and a day of rain, the kids must come up with their own fun. One of their favorite things to do is to take pictures and dress up the animals.

Thus, Gangsta Dog aka Tipper

Just a quick picture post.....

Thanks to Kelee from the Kadillacshack www.katillacshack.com. She has organized a great effort via Design Gives Back http://www.keleekatillac.com/design-gives-back.php

For the huge group effort of animal-loving bloggers decorating scarves, the sponsor of the program will donate $2000 to help pets that are affected by foreclosure and/or repossession. Please go to Kelee and click on Design Gives Back to read about all the awesome efforts.

Age of Perspective (or is it perspective of age?)

I'm fortunate to work at a University which has one of the largest if not the largest alumni base in the country. Apparently Wednesday is the day that these not so recent graduates return to campus to get together for coffee and to reminisce about the good old days.

I often am behind them in line at my favorite coffee shop on campus and this past Wednesday, learned a valuable lesson. As I waited in line, I watched the people in front of me: an elderly gentleman, bent over, white hair shuffling to the counter wearing the college colors from head to toe. In front of him were two old ladies, also white haired and also shuffling around-one with a walker- and also dressed head to toe in the college colors. I was thinking to myself how wonderful it was for these old people to have some way to reconnect with their college pasts. I was thinking of these people, these past college graduates in terms of their age and indicators of age. Not as a former teacher or engineer or physician and certainly not thinking of them as former cheerleaders, basketball players, or students. I was thinking that they were old. Period. That is how I identified them.

How sad. Because . . . . I was watching them, I heard the old man call to the old ladies, "hey, do you girls need any help?" And it occurred to me, that this man likely did not think of himself as an old man. He was just a guy and his lady friends who were around his age (I'm assuming) were just girls. And how wrong I was for thinking of these people, these fellow graduates, these fellow previous students, in terms of age! Now I know that the new students think of me as old. And someone in their 60s or 70s may think of me as young. So who is right? I feel, well, I don't know. I don't feel 'an age'. I don't want to be thought of as a 40 something. So what right do I have, to think of anyone else in terms of their age.

So I've decided that one of things I'm doing for myself is to start thinking of people as people and to not take it upon myself to place anyone in a category just because they are a certain age. Or race. Or gender.

We all are~regardless where we are in life's journey~just humans.