Sometimes
words
are
all
you
need.


Other
times
melody,
or
silence;
perhaps
tears.


But no one
can
live
without
the
magic
of
touch.

known by her smile

smiles are contagious said winnie the pooh.

a million ping pong balls playing musical chairs 'til a whole new song is played.
bouncing. all over the place. ants in the pants.
dylan's inspiration from dust bowl troubadour, woodie guthrie.
johnny's hum between the verses in walk the line.  
my dentist will never be cool, but if you can forgive him for trying, his hokiness charms.
a country song i never wanted to know the meaning of.
cotton ball towers in the sky.
we've been so wasted, it's written all over our faces.
excited talk of a boat rounding a curve in a river. the band finally comes to town in a week.

the song coming from my soul

Find all that is true. Write out the words. Speak them. Listen for the joy in their tune.(Come on, you can pull out a melody; sing it.) Practice every day until your heart's caught on.(Harmony is your favorite part.)

As we zip by...

I've snapped countless photos out my passenger side window throughout these last six years. We are usually traveling to or from a doctor office or a special treatment or a blood test. Rarer are those times we've been able to extend our energies to travel to a friend or relative's home. What I'm trying to say, is that when we are in the car we are always on a mission. I guess that happens quite often to healthy people, too. Rarely, do we let ourselves stop along the way to capture in photo and memory a piece of the beauty that is around us. (Although my family knows that I'm the first one to want to.) This person stopped. He walked to the top of a hill. As I snapped this picture of him, I smiled. A kindred spirit. Someone who breathes in, looks, sees, and knows that we are in a good place.

It had not made at all the same impression on him

as on the Cabby and the children. For what you see and hear depends a good deal on where you are standing: it also depends on what sort of person you are.
Magician's Nephew C.S. Lewis

It's Monday and I'm trying to not walk this same ol' path.

(Beware of circle.)

This week a mourning dove flew off its nest.

 Do we ever wonder how much courage that takes? How much support?
A house burned to black and white amidst (and despite) bursting summer color.



A phoenix rose



and spread her wings toward the beat of a new melody;


forgetting - for moments at at time, the residual odors of melted heat.

Time is all around except inside my clock*

*Regina Spektor "Time is all around"

Sun City

Floating in sunlight

in Surprise, Arizona. An on-line friend flew from San Francisco to Phoenix to finally meet Erin (and another on-line friend) face-to-face. That week, I found lines of poetry written all over our condo. My favorite spot? On my yellow tulip stems. Thanks for coming to see us, Cuileann. (Taken outside a small museum.)

Sharing the love

My Friend Amy and Lenore are hosting a Book Sale Drive for the first week release of Beth Kephart's new Young Adult Book, Nothing But Ghosts. I'll quote and second Amy, "Beth is a gifted writer who deserves a wider audience." This release party's goal is to help Beth sell 200 books this first week. Prizes and a live chat with the author on June 30th are all part of the fun. Rush on over to Amazon (use this link to make your purchase count automatically.) (And don't forget to go to Amy or Lenore's blog to get details about the rest of the party.)

Trust me, dear friends, you will not regret making this summer reading purchase and joining us as we celebrate with Beth. I'm off to finish reading my copy. Cheers!

Photo of the Week (21)

American Idol



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Picture of the Week (20)

California


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Photo of the Week (19)

White whisper, "Hope..."


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Photo of the Week (18)

Golden Moment


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Things that make me happy today

• Being stopped dead in my tracks by Erin's singing of "The Wizard and I" even though I've heard her sing this song a zillion times. The girl needs to star in a musical.
  
• Hearing Brady's French teacher's pure joy about Brady's natural abilities to speak the French language, an extraordinary feat for an American, she claims.
• Singing every word along with Pat Benatar's "Hit Me with Your Best Shot" (which I didn't put on our family's iPod), while preparing lunch, as a shout-out against my illness. (Who knew, when I was a freshman in college and my girlfriends and I learned an aerobic dance routine to this song, in the basement of our dormitory, how much I'd appreciate it so many years later?)
  
• Finishing my reread of Sorcery and Cecilia or The Enchanted Chocolate Pot, a story that is a cross between Harry Potter and Pride and Prejudice, and has a romantic moment that rates right up there with P&P's romantic moment.
• Erin, in the kitchen, bending my ear, telling all that she's learned about acting and moviemaking from the latest good interview she's found on the Internet.
• How beautifully rich Erin's fuchsia-tipped roses, look against the black marble-like tile of our living room fireplace.
  
• The glimpses of sunshine, which indicates that our latest bad, low pressure system has emptied its snow and rain-filled clouds and is heading out of town.
• The odd thrill of not knowing which American Idol contestant is going home tonight, even though I know I'll be sad no matter who gets axed.
• My husband's willingness to go the grocery store, after his long day at work.
  

We're not alone

A friend of mine recently gave me the name of a family who is in the midst of a journey not altogether different than ours. I quickly connected to them by e-mail. In the month we've been in touch, they've already given me a great deal of support and encouragement. The husband and wife write frequent posts on each of their own blogs, which are highly recommended reading for anyone who desires further glimpses of the joys and sorrows faced in the day to day life of those with difficult health problems.

Today's post by the mom/wife, Andrea, is particularly good. (Any post that quotes Charles Dickens gets points in my book.) We have these kinds of Charles Dickens days at our home, too. Things can get low as can be with much despair and pain, but an hour, or so, later we'll be able smile at the beauty of the sunset, then laugh, boo, and cheer together, in front of the TV, watching American Idol. We go to bed thankful.

We're hoping our families get to meet while we're in Arizona. The connection we've already established is a like a new spring garden. We look forward to to it blossoming while we all grow into better health.

Photo of the Week (17)

Rehearsal



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Easter Week