18 August 2014

228/365

morning view along the road.
(any doubt, back in the Cornhusker State?)

and then after waking up in the dark, and driving 628 miles, and a quick change of clothes- we were there...
catching up with old friends,
sitting on soft green grass,
under the coolness of summer clouds,
surrounded by so many familiar faces,
listening to chatter that was in one language.

culture shock of the nicest kind.

225/365

It was almost overwhelming. Would you believe I didn't buy one book?

224/365

We parked here, but ate across the street at RJ's Hamburgers in Kenedy. The burgers were super, but it took almost an hour of waiting out front on the picnic table before we finally were served. The entire time I kept thinking, "maybe tacos..."

223/365

some of my favorite early-morning-and-I'm-outside things:
cowbell accompaniment during my rock and roll;
dogs trotting down the street, smiling;
the rare cool breeze;
the sun peaking up over the horizon.

222/365

the privilege of a table-full for Sunday lunch.
(really! I'm not being snarky!!)

09 August 2014

Only YOU...

Kristy trivia- I'm a Smokey the Bear fan.

I think it started in middle school. I was a member of a most awesome Girl Scout troop. We traveled and camped all over New Mexico, including one trip to Capitan, New Mexico, where the real little bear cub Smokey was rescued from a forest fire in 1950. Capitan is the home of Smokey Bear Historical Park, and is where Smokey is buried. (ha! BEAR-ied...)
I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP!! There was an actual Smokey the Bear.

Then later while still a Girl Scout, at some big event down at the Convention Center I got to BE Smokey the Bear, wearing the Smokey the Bear costume, while my fellow Girl Scout handlers told others "only YOU can prevent forest fires..." (Of course!) I was accompanied by Woodsy Owl, of "give a hoot- don't polute..." fame. (hmmm... I'm pretty sure that there was no real Woodsy Owl...)

(note: fellow introverts- wouldn't many of you agree- wearing a costume in complete anonymity, not having to say a word, not a public soul who knows who you are- isn't it a dream?!)

And today I hear it's Smokey's 70th birthday- just don't light the candles!

(Smokey image from 1982 ad campaign from the SmokeyBear.com vault)

221/365

a Fleetwood Mac-Eagles-James Taylor-Simon and Garfunkel while plugging along and pressing on kind of afternoon...

220/365

Grateful.

219/365

"The cotton was open and spilling into the fields; the very air smelled of it."
- William Faulkner, The Hamlet

08 August 2014

218/365

I thump them.
My grandpa was an expert thumper, well, at least I thought he was.
There was that one time when he was sure that he had picked The Perfect Watermelon, but the lady at the counter of the Farmer's Market on Indian School Road in Albuquerque convinced him otherwise. He returned it, got another one, and don't you know, it wasn't ripe.
My grandpa never forgot that. And neither have I.

05 August 2014

217/365

good while it lasted.
very good.

216/365

"What do you want for your birthday?"
"Family peace. No drama. All peace, all day."

Well done, family.
I love you all.

215/365

yes, I buy myself flowers.

04 August 2014

214/365

home.

213/365

Si el Espíritu de Dios
Está en mi corazón
Yo danzo como David
Yo danzo,Yo danzo
Yo danzo como David
Pónganse de pie a danzar
Pónganse de pie
- "Danzo Como David" by Salvador

212/365

In Childhood

BY SARAH A. CHAVEZ

In childhood Christy and I played in the dumpster across the street

from Pickett & Sons Construction. When we found bricks, it was best.

Bricks were most useful. We drug them to our empty backyard

and stacked them in the shape of a room. For months

we collected bricks, one on top another. When the walls

reached as high as my younger sister’s head, we laid down.

Hiding in the middle of our room, we watched the cycle

of the sun, gazed at the stars, clutched hands and felt at home.

211/365

Seriously!
The cuteness!

210/365

Walking through those handcrafted doors, the heat and humidity weigh down the air, seemingly slowing my already sluggish first-thing-in-the-morning pace. But it only takes a few minutes of being still to acclimate. Hot coffee balanced carefully on the arm of the chair, I squint at the print of my travel bible and scribble notes and ponder and meditate. A morning breeze blows through the courtyard. The bells from the Catholic church down the street ring in the distance. The Federales finish their morning drill and greet me with surprisingly cheerful Buenos dias on their way to breakfast. Cars and people hurry by as the sun makes it's appearance on the eastern horizon, and soon the group gathers for our own morning meal.

I would be hard-pressed to surrender that extra morning hour.

Prone to Wander

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