My Favorite Summer Camp Song

I was one of those fortunate kids who went to sleep away camp in the summers. And I went to cool ones. But no matter how cool a summer camp is, they all have corny camp songs. And I remember most of them to this day.

Back in the 1970's there was something on the market called RC Cola. Don't know if you can still find it but they had an advertising jingle that was titled "Me and My RC". Some of you may remember it.

The following camp song is one of my favorites and should be sung to the tune of the RC commercial...


"I woke up on Sunday morning
and I looked up on the wall.
The roaches and the bedbugs
were havin' a game of ball.

The sore was six to zero,
the bedbugs were ahead.
The roaches hit a home run
that knocked me out of bed!

Oh, me and my bedbugs,
me and my bedbugs.
What's good enough for other bugs,
ain't good enough for me and my bedbugs..."

Seems appropriate to where I live somehow, lol, even though I don't have bedbugs!

Lunch Date

I had a lunch date a few weeks ago. Guy I'd met online. We had emailed, talked on the phone, exchanged pics, the usual.

As mentioned in a previous post, I live in a rather sub-standard place and there is no doorbell. I arranged for my date to call when he arrived and I was to meet him outside.

He called, I headed down the stairs and into the street. Seeing the car, I begin to walk toward it when I notice a woman in the passenger seat. I pause, thinking it's the wrong car, when the driver door opens and out steps my date looking very upset.

The woman in the passenger seat looks up at me, opens the door and says, "You look more expensive than me", then walks away.

My date then explains that when he pulled up, she jumped in and asked if he was looking for a date! When he told her to get out of the car she refused unless he gave her five dollars. He threatened to call the police as she was unbuttoning her top, and that's when I arrived.

You know you're in the city when your date is propositioned by the local working girls at 11:30 in the morning!

I Met Someone

I met someone recently,
and she is free.

She laughs like a child,
and still plays 'let's pretend'.

She expects only kindness,
and fearlessly gives love.

She's proud and brave,
compassionate and strong.

She enjoys her life
with all it's ups and downs.

She sees mystery and beauty
everywhere she looks.

She is grateful
for the gift that is herself.

I met someone recently,
and she is ME.

Beautiful

God this city is beautiful! I've got this fabulous view from my room. It faces west, with big windows overlooking twin peaks.

I find myself continually fascinated with the play of light on the hills; from dawn to dusk it is everchanging. I spend hours, watching the lights go off as the sun comes up, or watching them appear in the dusky air as the sun sets.

And then there's the moon, shining brighly down on it all through the night.

It's like having a living painting on the wall.

FOUND

I found the key! The cage door is open, and i feel like i could fly.

What an adventure!

A Community of the Spirit

There is a community of the spirit.
Join it, and feel the delight
of walking in the noisy street,
and being the noise.

Drink all your passion,
and be a disgrace.

Close both eyes
to see with the other eye.

Open your hands,
if you want to be held.

Sit down in this circle.

Quit acting like a wolf, and feel
the shepherd's love filling you.

At night, your beloved wanders.
Don't accept consolations.

Close your mouth against food.
Taste the lover's mouth in yours.

You moan, "She left me." "He left me."
Twenty more will come.

Be empty of worrying.
think of who created thought!

Why do you stay in prison
when the door is so wide open?

Move outside the tangle of fear-thinking.
Live in silence.

Flow down and down in always
widening rings of being.


Rumi 1207-1273

Hello Darkness...

All of my life I have been very aware of the natural world around me, flora, fauna, seasons, weather. And it effects me in a very deep, visceral way. Even in the city.

This is the time of year when the sun goes to it's rest earlier and earlier each evening. Arising later and later each day. There are more days of gray, damp, chilly air that make one envy those mammals who, even now, may be hibernating in their cozy dens, or long for a roaring fire to chase away the early darkness.

Somehow it seems that time speeds up; that we rush headlong toward the winter solstice, that time of death and rebirth. Each day flying by faster and faster, less and less sunlight, less warmth, like sand running out of the proverbial hourglass.

Anticipation makes the return to life seem endless. Through those dark days of the first two and a half months of the new year each day becomes a month and each month a year. Every second of daylight gained seeming hard won.

And I, who so desperately need the sun, find myself waking at first light to open the curtains wide and soak up every drop. Keeping them open late to watch the last fading blush of day leave the sky, so as to lose not one precious second of the day and it's gift.

Adventures In Tenement Living - Part One

tenement - n. 1. A building to live in, esp. one rented to tenants. 2. A run-down, low-rental apartment building whose facilities and upkeep barely meet minimum standards.



Let's just be clear... both definitions describe where I currently live. Especially the second one. And I'm not even sure we meet minimum standards.

I moved to the city last year for a reason. Several actually, but one was that I was heartily sick of the suburbs and the country. I've spent my whole life in one or the other and wanted something different.

Well, I got my wish and then some! The first neighborhood I lived in here was very quiet compared to where I am now. There were times that it was so quiet, you wouldn't know you were in the middle of one of the most cosmopolitan cities in the US.

Now I know I live in the city!

The first night in my new tenement, I discovered that after the sun sets, my front stoop is the local businessman's 'turf'. He works a couple of feet away, his muscle sits on my stoop. It took a few days, but we worked it out. I ignore their existence, they move out of the way if I need to get in my door. They were actually quite polite and I miss them now that the local gendarmes have busted them.

Miss them? you say with incredulity! Yes, miss them. You see, a 'storefront' like this doesn't stay empty. New businessmen move in as the old ones are moved out. But the new ones aren't polite. And they're scary. It makes coming home after dark a bit of an adventure, and these days it's dark by 5:30 pm.

Gives a whole new meaning to the saying "early to bed, early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise"...

Blindness Comes in Many Forms

Oh my Friend!
That I could hurt you
Is unthinkable, and yet -
I have.
How is it that we can know
So little
About ourselves?
About each other?

We spend our lives
Imprisoned -
Within our bodies-
Our minds-
In our loneliness.
Longing for understanding,
For connection, to be accepted.
For a Friend.

Why then do we destroy
That which would be
Our salvation?
How is it that we can be
So cruel
And yet so unaware?
Believing all the time,
That we are being loving and supportive.

Who is this stranger
In me
Who so insidiously takes control
Without my awareness or
Permission,
Without consideration
For my well being
Or yours?

This stranger
This ME I never knew
Existed,
Now exposed,
Unmasked, revealed,
Forced out of the darkness
Cannot, I hope,
Survive the light.

The Magic Turtle

Once upon a time there was a turtle who lived in a land of mortal enemies. He was the only turtle who lived there. He could not ever remember seeing another turtle. The only reason he survived, was his magic shell. It created an illusion so real his enemies believed he was one of them.

The most frightening aspect of the situation was that at times of high stress, or strong emotion the illusion would waver for an instant, and if any of his enemies happened to notice ( none had as yet) there would be awkward questions, to say the least. He felt his only recourse was to stay as uninvolved as possible.

There was the possibility of escape, but he scarcely thought of it. This, after all, was known, while what lay outside the realm of his nemesis' territory was not.

Though no one had noticed the wavering of his illusion per say, they sensed something different about him and he was never treated as an equal. Always in a subservient role of some sort, patronized, and covertly watched. Pretending not to notice and being forever hopeful that the situation would improve was the only way he knew to survive.

After many years of this came a particularly bad year. He didn't know quite what had caused the change, but things were fast becoming intolerable. And now, looking at it clearly, he realized that was saying quite a lot! Something had to change. Anything would be better than this.

And so, gathering his courage, he stole away one night. Quietly, after everyone had gone to sleep, in the very deepest part of the night, he crept silently out of town. And then out of the territory altogether. When the sky started to brighten with the coming dawn, he crept off the road and went to sleep under a rotting log. He traveled this way for several days. Always moving slowly at night, and sleeping, hidden, by day.

One morning after having fallen asleep in a pile of leaf mould near a stream, he woke to the sound of voices and laughter. And music. Music and laughter were things not heard often where he came from.

Curious, and trusting in his magic shell to scare off any potential threats, he moved quietly toward the sounds. Eventually he came to a clearing in the wood that bordered the stream. He couldn't believe his eyes.

The clearing was roughly circular, with a depression in the middle, like a bowl. In the center were what appeared to be short logs, standing on end. Next to these, and filling the large clearing, were...Turtles! Oh, they all looked different each from the other, but they were definitely turtles. And the music was coming from the center of the clearing where some of the turtles beat on the logs, while others blew on what seemed to be reeds. All the others were dancing.

Quickly realizing that he had found what must be home (he was no dummy) the magic turtle shed his illusion and stepped out to be welcomed by his new friends to their celebration.

And he lived happily ever after.
The End
Sort of ...

See, the only fly in the ointment, was that after all those years of living behind a mask, inside himself, hiding who he was... Well, he sometimes accidentally hid behind the illusion when things got too real, and it would tend make the neighbors run screaming... Other than that, he lived happily ever after.

The End

For real this time

Who Needs A... ?

Ok, I really do not need a man around to fix things or put things together. But a man's tools... that's a very different matter.

You know, you spend as many years married as I have and you kind of take certain things for granted. For instance; you need to put together a stereo. You need to strip the little wires in order to plug them into the back of the speakers and the receiver. But you know what my handy-dandy little tool box doesn't have? Wire strippers. (This must be an oversight on my part because it's a pretty well-stocked little tool box.) Over the years past this would not have been a problem. If I couldn't find it in my tool box it was probably available in my husband's.

But now that Jane's Trip is a solo gig, options have changed. Welcome the ever-present, multi-usage, kitchen scissors. I have been fierce in their protection over the past couple of years. They have been pressed into services during that time for which they were never intended. Adolescents have tried to abduct them, abandon them, destroy them, all to no avail. They cut absolutely anything and never seem to dull. Bought 'em for a buck.

So now, the wires are stripped and thanks to the tool boxes of good men (thanks B) they are not laying all over the floor tripping me up. Jane's Trip is now set for sound...

The White Knights of Wyoming: Stories of the Road Episode II

Saturday morning dawned bright and sunny, with the promise of temperatures in the 70's and clear skies for that day's travel. We started our morning just East of the Continental Divide.

The drive progressed pleasantly enough, with little traffic and great conversation as well as sweeping views to either side. Eventually we started downhill having just passed the highest elevation on I-80.

We pulled into a gas station in Point of Rocks, Wyoming for a bit of a pit-stop and some supplies for the road. (Mostly those containing large amounts of caffeine). I was sitting in sun, in the car, waiting for my mother to come out of the store, when I decided to make a couple of purchases of my own. Leaning over to roll up her window and lock the passenger door, I remember consciously thinking that I needed to grab the car keys out of the ignition before exiting the car. Of course, as soon as the thought was registered, I promptly forgot it. Opened my door, flipped the lock and shut it. On the instant that the door latched, I realized the keys were still hanging in the ignition. And everything is locked tight. No problem, I think, I have AAA. One call and I'll be on the road within the hour. And then I realize that my cell phone is locked in the car with the keys.

Within seconds, my car is surrounded by well meaning citizens of Wyoming. In less than 10 minutes they had my car unlocked, without any damage and we were again on our way. Of course after gaining entry it was pointed out that I really didn't need to lock the car. I was in Wyoming.

How I Got Lost in Puckerbrush Nevada and Other Stories of the Road: Episode I

Well folks, I've just completed a 2,810 mile road trip across the country. I have to say it was fantastic even with the small setbacks we encountered.

I completed the trip on Sunday, but Saturday was really something. 788 miles that day alone. Crossed a third of Wyoming, all of Utah and Nevada. And yes, there really is a town called Puckerbrush, Nevada. Population 28. And yes, I really got lost there.

You see, there is a large truck stop in Puckerbrush. In fact, that is the only thing in Puckerbrush. That and lots of desert. The sun had just set and I needed to refuel... both the gas tank and my stomach. So, of course, I pull off the freeway to attend these needs. Half an hour later I attempt to get back onto the road.

It was now fully dark and when I went back to the freeway on ramp, I discovered that the only ramp was for I-80 Eastbound. Understand that I want Westbound. So I figure that I must have passed the correct on ramp and turn around. I end up back at the truck stop not having seen anything to indicate the direction I need to take.

I look carefully at the signs in front of said truck stop, and they indicate turning left to reach I-80. So, of course I turn left. Again, finding only the Eastbound ramp.

To make a long story short, I repeated these steps several times before finally hitting upon the idea of asking directions at the truck stop. (Understand, that by this time I have spent four days on the road averaging 500 to 600 miles a day and am rather stupid with exhaustion). I am informed by the kindly folk at the gas pumps that I need to turn right when leaving the truck stop and follow the narrow, bumpy road approximately fifteen miles to find the Westbound on ramp. Yes, there used to be a sign indicating this important fact, but it blew down in a storm and the Nevada DOT has not yet seen fit to replace it.

I want send my sincere thanks to the Nevada DOT for their concern and efficiency.

Learning Lessons

Some lessons I've learned:

#1 No major life decision should be made on the spur of the moment. Or in anger. Or in love. Or in any strong emotion. One needs to distance one's self if possible and take plenty of time.

#2 Thinking you can deal with a situation is not the same as actually living it. If you've given it your best but just can't deal with it you have not necessarily failed.

#3 All things worth while take an immense amount of work. But some things will not work no matter how much effort you invest.

#4 Compromise is about meeting someone halfway; do not confuse this with three quarters.

#5 Learn to live in the moment. Yes we all have to plan for the future to some extent, and we should learn from the past, but now is all we ever really have.

#6 Life is too short. Even on the days it seems long. Don't settle.

Home Again

Home three days now and the jet lag is starting to wear off. Vacations are a funny thing; if they're good, you need another to recover from the first!

Seattle in June tends to be cool and rainy. I was fortunate and the first week was full of sunny days with temps in the low 70's. Not bad. Five days with my mom was not enough, but better than no time at all. We stayed up till the wee hours of the morning talking and laughing...It's really hard living so far away from her. After mom's I spent the next ten days cramming in visits with many friends and loved ones. The time spent was perfectly enjoyable. Relaxed, no stress, lots of fun and laughter. Of course the last few days the weather turned on me and I was reminded of why I wanted to move. When you wake up in the morning and can't see the tree tops because they are in the clouds...Well, let's just say it's not my thing.

The last day of June saw me on the way to San Francisco. Weather was perfect, sunny and 70 (the sky back up where it belongs) and I got to my friends place just in time to watch the fog roll in for the evening. To me there is something magical about the fog in this, my favorite city. I can spend literally hours watching it drift and move. It's hypnotic. Since the age of twelve SF has been my Mecca. It's the first place I think of when I need to escape. I love the rhythm of the city; the energy and the eclectic mix of people and culture. I had a fabulous time, as usual.

Homecoming is always, for me anyway, a mix of emotions. I mean, no matter how much fun you have, living out of a suitcase gets old after a while. And one tends to miss one's own bed and pillow. And yet, it's rather anti-climatic. After three days of laundry, sorting through a month's mail and reassuring the dog that I won't be disappearing any time soon, reality sets in. I realize that once again I have no life. Sure there's work and there are the household responsibilities, but these are not life affirming activities for me. They are not fulfilling. And most of all I realized how lonely I am here. For a variety of reasons I have not yet been able to develop any friends here. I miss having people around to share my thoughts and ideas with. People who find interest in the things I like. People who like things that I find interesting. So I feel restless, and somewhat dissatisfied. It's time to change things. Shake things up. Let my presence be known. And be damned to those who would stand in my way!

I'm leaving on a jet plane

Anybody remember that song? It was one of my favorites back in the late seventies.

So in about six hours I have to leave for the airport. Can't sleep. Too excited. Tried drinking beer, tried working out, tried sitting on the deck watching the fireflies give their nightly show in the meadow, nothing's working, I still can't sleep. Why can't I go now? I mean, I've been packed since nine this morning, why should I have to wait for the plane? Shouldn't they work around my schedule? Oh yeah, I don't own a private jet....have to work on that.

So far my vacation from work has been fabulous. Now for the real vacation, Seattle and San Francisco. The west coast may never recover...

If I actually get time to post while there, I will. Otherwise I'll see you all in July!

Later!

Memememememememe

Ok, so Kaci tagged me. This has not been an easy task, but here goes.

What is the total number of books I've owned?
At least 1,200. This is a very conservative estimate and only covers the last fifteen to twenty years.

Last book I bought?
Shadowland by Peter Straub (Don't waste the bucks)

Last book I read?
Well, I am currently almost finished with Shadowland. Have not suffered through such a boring book in a long time. Often depaired of even finishing it. Before that was The Kite Runner. Well worth the read.

And the tough one...
List five books that mean a lot to me.
I struggled with this question quite a bit. I mean, only five? So, here's my best attempt; be forewarned that this list could change tomorrow and they are not in any particular order.

1. The Jungle Book by Rudyard Kipling. The unabridged version. I still have the book I so loved in childhood. Stories that must be read to me over and over again until I could read them myself whenever I liked.

2. Maia by Richard Adams. An epic journey that I have enjoyed many times.

3. The Stand by Stephen King. Again the unabridged version.

4. Motherhood, the Second Oldest Profession by Erma Bombeck. There is an author without whom the world is a little bit darker.

5. A Midsummer Night's Dream by William Shakespear. I don't know if plays count, but if they do, there it is.

Now, I'm also supposed to tag five other folks. I think most of you have already done this so let's see......

Brian (but you won't be back in town for two weeks, guess we'll have to wait).

Midnight Cry

Phoenix

Dave

I know that's only four but the rest of the folks I would have tagged, either don't have a blog or have already been tagged.

Emergence

She stepped out into the light, blinking owlishly, feeling exposed, naked and raw, like a snake having newly shed it's skin. In some ways that's exactly what she had done. Gone were the walls of the prison which, while they hemmed her in had also made her feel protected. At least inside those walls she knew what to expect. Now she was vulnerable to anything.

Suddenly, she was in doubt. She wanted to turn and flee back into the place she had just left. She looked back and saw nothing but gray walls that seemed to extend forever in all directions. Again she looked toward the light. She had to go forward. Even though she was terribly frightened, felt as if she was no more substantial than a child's play-doh creation, she must continue. She had worked hard for this freedom. She had to trust that this time would be different.

She let herself into the apartment with her new key. It felt heavy enough to be made of lead. Smooth and powerful in her hand. Leaning back against the now closed door, she looked around. To anyone else it might have seemed dingy, dim and spartan. To her, though, it seemed bright and open, compared with where she had spent the last several years. The dusty, worn carpet might have been silk and the chipped formica counters in the kitchen could as easily have been fine marble. It was hers, for now anyway, and she had every intention of hanging onto it. The only other option was to go back, and that she was unwilling to do.

Right now, though, she was exhausted. She pushed away from the door and crossed the unfurnished living room, heading for the bedroom. Partially furnished in this case meant a narrow metal frame bed with a sagging mattress whose ancient springs groaned loudly in protest as she lay herself down. She groaned along with them at the thought of tomorrow. She would need to find a job first off. How to explain where she had been the last few years? Would anyone understand? Then, find the Good Will and see about some furnishings for her new home. Perhaps filling the empty space would make it seem more secure, more real somehow.

As she drifted off to sleep, her last conscious thoughts were more prayer than anything else. That this would get easier, that she would be able to rise to the situation, that the freedom would last.

A Mother's Gifts

Over the years my mother has given me many wonderful gifts. She has fabulous taste and knows my taste in books, clothes and jewelry. But there are others that are even more timeless and precious and I just wanted the whole world to know about them. Ok, at least my whole blog world.

She gave me the gift of language. Mom taught me that words are powerful and have meaning. That they can bring others closer or push them away.

She gave me the gift of literacy. She opened the door to a wondrous world of books and I will be forever grateful as it has often been my salvation.

She gave me the gift of sight, teaching me to look carefully for the beauty in those around me and in nature. How to look into myself and explore and grow.

She gave me the gift of choice, allowing me to choose my own path even though it might not be one she could follow.

She gave me the gift of acceptance. Taught me to accept others as they are, for who they are.

She gave me the gift of tolerance. From her I learned never to judge another's values, beliefs or culture by the standards of my own.

She gave me the gift of exploration. It is from her that I learned to love to travel and experience new places.

She gave me the gift of inspiration. For watching her live her life with zest, with freedom and seeing her follow her dreams inspires me to do the same.

She gave me the gift of wealth, for she taught me by example that a rich life is worth much more than being rich.

But most of all she gave me the gift of her love, which has sustained me, surrounded me and kept me whole.

Thank you mom, your gifts are treasured and I love you.