The way to love someone
is to lightly run your finger over that person's soul
until you find a crack,
and then gently pour your love into that crack.
~Keith Miller

Wednesday, May 30, 2012





‘A good traveller has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving.’ ~ Lao Tzu

 It is very strange for me to not have some objective ... A desired outcome ... A goal or target ... In mind.  I can think of a few somewhat significant relationships which are so fluid that I have no expectations. I can't think of any thing I actually do, rather then the minor activity that supports the whimsy of those sorta friendships, where I don't have some sense of where things are going ... I have x number of doors, y of which are already painted ... These are the elements on the completion checklist, these ... outstanding. I'm starting to think about that. I'm starting to pay attention to where the joy is in a moment. I'm laughing at myself a bit here ... even my rose vine is supported by invisible lines.  The birds come and go from the nests found there, but the vine is trained along specific lines.

This will sound weird probably, but ... Yesterday I went with Four for a pedicure. I can remember having a professional pedicure three times in my life. It sorta creeps me out to have someone scraping dead skin from the soles of my feet ... A stranger trimming, filing, painting my toenails. I don't particularly like the process, but ... this morning I woke up with pretty radiating from my feet. Today I felt pretty, really, it's a feeling, and it started at my feet  ... which is quite rare for me. It was a nice feeling. Why does that matter ... I wonder. And why does bronze nail polish and perfectly squared nails matter at all?
 The quote at the top ... .  I went with my daughter because she asked me to. I planned to guide her through the process. I wanted to help her see how to do that salon thing. Maybe she is that kinda girl, whatever that means. What happened was I found a bit of joy there ... later. My feet are telling me something that makes me smile. I told my daughter that in a few years,when all of them are out of the house, I think I will make the trip to the pedicure salon every Friday. Just because ... Waking up with pretty feet was ... super sweet.   Now, I understand the whole purple hair salon ritual ... I may totally get it.

I guess that's what I am thinking about now ... lately.  I don't have any plans at all.  Well ... I have calendar items,  I have chores,  I have projects, but I don't have really anything going on.  Some of the stuff I have read over the years ... Zen stuff probably ... encourages us to do what we are passionate about.  It seems like the places that light me up are some distance from where my life is supposed to be lived at.  I'm not saying that in a sad or martyr or whatever the word is way.  Simply making an observation.  I think there is enough joy for the day close at hand ... which would be missed were I to follow my passions.  People do what they are supposed to do and look for the joy along that way ... like these little bronze colored toenails.  I walk with sparkly feet.  And if I could see it, the ground is covered by microscopic miracles, like those photos of sand, no telling what. No telling what today might see.

81/1000

Thankful for the smell of wood mulch steaming up and mingling with the gardenia blossoms ... Woody gardenia ... heaven must smell just like that.

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Where I'm at on this so far ... painting from top to bottom coming forward ... then back with the next layer 
I need gesso and ... maybe something else, not sure yet ... 
I like to paint the sky, even from the ground.



Kitchen floor tile ... not a fan of ceramic floor tile.  Two pieces, make that three, near the doorways, have little cracks in them.  Little cracks become big cracks.  This piece is being fine tuned to fit as a replacement.  I have a new list working up for a run to Lowe's ... floor grout.  That's the other thing.   I really don't like grouted floors.  In the laundry closet under the machines, the floor is beautiful.  The pristine grout mocks my attempts to keep the rest of the flooring ship shape.  Husband suggests I "Dremel" out all the grout and start over.  I do not like the idea of that ... pretty much at all.





These are called "hero" accessories.
Hero not included in set ... .

We rented a house in the Keys which had what I think was the perfect flooring ... travertine tiles without grout seams in the "wet" rooms ... well worn heart pine in the others.  Sigh.


It feels so good to my feet.  And ... it is beautiful.  Wish list ... Anyway ... I don't think I am going to replace the grout in the kitchen and breakfast rooms.  I pretty much hate the very idea of it ... talk about abrasive dust, it's already aggravating me!  I am going to replace those three tiles, and maybe the one near the dishwasher where dropped silverware has chipped tiny flecks of glaze from the tile ... then I'm going to scour the lines with that vinegar and soda solution ... then I'm going to paint a sealant on before anyone else even breathes in the area.


Yesterday L helped me with this tile measuring thing ... and also with installing the remaining outlets in the living room.  New outlets ... very white ... really pretty.  I know outlets aren't usually considered pretty, but, these really are!  L said he had no idea how tedious that work is.  One thing I have learned in life is that it is impossible to truly appreciate the contributions made by ones partner in marriage.  To me, he goes to his office and does stuff.  If we talk during the day I can hear NPR playing in his background ... his voice sounds almost as though he may be sitting there with his feet up on the desk ... . I know somebody comes in and empties his waste basket.  It's pretty easy to slip in to taking each other for granted when you've been married forever as we have.  It was great to have a buddy to work with yesterday.  I wouldn't have gotten the wet saw out without him near by.  Really just great.  He accidentally, but very sweetly, nicked his finger with the screw driver and bled a little on the switch plate ... glad I'm not the only one.  It was very encouraging.

I also started a new large canvas ... sky.  Just beginning it, and it was the first thing I thought of this morning when I woke up.  It is going to be ... my favorite.

Monday, May 28, 2012

PRIDE

PRIDE
WRATH


Pride n. 

  1.  high or inordinate opinion of one's own dignity,importance, merit, or superiority, whether as cherished in the mind or as displayed in bearing, conduct, etc.
  2. the state or feeling of being proud.
  3. a becoming or dignified sense of what is due to oneself orone's position or character; self-respect; self-esteem.
  4. pleasure or satisfaction taken in something done by orbelonging to oneself or believed to reflect credit upononeself: civic pride.
  5. something that causes a person or persons to be proud: His art collection was the pride of the family.


1. Pride, conceit, self-esteem, egotism, vanity, vainglory  imply an unduly favorable idea of one's own appearance, advantages,achievements, etc., and often apply to offensive characteristics.Pride  is a lofty and often arrogant assumption of superiority insome respect: Pride must have a fall. 

Conceit  implies an exaggerated estimate of one's own abilities or attainments, together with pride: blinded by conceit. 

Self-esteem  may imply an estimate of oneself that is higher than that held by others: a ridiculous self-esteem. 

Egotism  implies an excessive preoccupation with oneself or with one's own concerns, usually but not always accompanied by pride or conceit: His egotism blinded him to others' difficulties. 

Vanity implies self-admiration and an excessive desire to be admiredby others: His vanity was easily flattered. 

Vainglory,  somewhat literary, implies an inordinate and therefore empty or unjustified pride: puffed up by vainglory.   boast. 


1.  humility. 



Pride is an inwardly directed emotion that carries two common meanings. 
With a negative connotation, pride refers to an inflated sense of one's personal status or accomplishments, often used synonymously with hubris. 
With a positive connotation, pride refers to a satisfied sense of attachment toward one's own or another's choices and actions, or toward a whole group of people, and is a product of praise, independent self-reflection, or a fulfilled feeling of belonging. ~ Wikipedia  


I'm not the only one having a time of trying to define "Pride"  because it commonly means two distinctly different things and ... seems like quite more with subtle variation.  And ... pride in one's accomplishments, early developmental accomplishments all the way through life to perhaps wonderful feats of accomplishment seem to be motivated by whatever dope pings us along.  I want to be proud of myself.  I hope I can behave in a way that I get "good" feedback, most especially from myself, but probably from my significant others, and maybe even from society at large.  Here is an example ... people sometimes say there are not very many CFIs who are also women ... somewhere, very hidden within, I smile at that.  I also realize that I spent days of my life on that ... days which may have been better spent, days which most definitely could have been wasted but weren't (I am also proud of that ... that I try not to waste my life ... this blogging stuff is the one thing I do that I would consider the most wasteful uses of my time ... I still think it's worth a bit of my time). Had I not spent time on flying accomplishments I know I would have found other challenges to pursue ... and I admire and congratulate people who make similar choices.  I think there are tons of people who can be very proud of their life work ... and a lot of it isn't measured as favorably by society at large.  People who choose to make right choices frequently do so with no accolades at all.  In reading these soldier's stories of late, I can see how easily one doing "good things", "right things" doesn't feel that their life is being well spent.  One writer spoke of digging holes in the sand ... which filled right back in.  Yeah ... I get it ... truthfully, we all get it.  I clear the front hall table ... every day.  I do the same stuff over and over again every single (sometimes freakin') day.  It doesn't seem to make a difference ... not the kind of difference that is worth a life. Seems like we can all be very proud to be on the planet with those who strive towards good ... whatever that is exactly. 
Pride ... another thought on pride is I know pride has stopped me from doing some stuff that I would like to do but don't ... because it is wrong.  I want to be proud of my choices and I hope to not disappoint God more then I have to.  I would very much like to dip my finger in to not my ice cream ... part of the reason why I don't is pride as in the opposite of ashamed.  I don't want to feel ashamed of my behavior ... I want to make choices I can be proud of.  
It has been difficult for me to adjust to how my life is right now.  I am used to having a goal ... a plan ... to see myself moving towards.  I have used that strategy to organize my life.  In a way it's fair to say to validate myself to myself.  As long as I was accomplishing steps towards my goals I thought I must be "on track" and could feel proud of how the day was spent.  Now ... I guess I am in the process of figuring some stuff out.  Now ... I do the dishes and ... I mop the floors ... I have these home projects going, but ... well, I like things to be nice and tidy, but I also realize that it doesn't make much difference.  I unload the dishwasher every morning while my yummy coffee brews ... I look out the window and smile with my dog ... I see the birds on the feeder ... yeah, everyday ... same thing.  I do not feel pride in any of those five ways it is defined above.  I do the best work I can.  I don't think it is significant in anyway.  I just do what I am supposed to do.  I don't think it will be like this "forever" ... but I discipline myself to make the best of it. Sometimes I do pretty good with that sometimes not ... sometimes I feel pretty bitchy in general ... like I am wasting time.  What I really think is I am in this time and it won't last forever ... I am trying to truly enjoy the ease of these days.  I can pretty much think about whatever strikes my fancy ... and I have a lot of freedom to do as a wish ... .


A portion of mankind take pride in their vices and pursue their purpose; many more waver between doing what is right and complying with what is wrong.
Horace



"For the wicked boasts of the desires of his heart, and the man greedy for gain curses and renounces The Lord. In the pride of his countenance the wicked does not seek Him" (Psalm 10:3-4 RSV)



... pride very often results in self-destructive behavior because, while a form of self-delusion, it isn't necessarily as much an overestimation of one's self as it is a dangerous underestimation of others, hence "Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall" (Proverbs 16:18 RSV). ~ Wayne Blank,
CoG pastor and author of on-line Bible studies. 


"There is one vice of which no man in the world is free; which every one in the world loathes when he sees it in someone else; and of which hardly any people, except Christians, ever imagine they are guilty themselves." ~ C.S. Lewis on the sin of pride in his work "Mere Christianity"


When pride comes, then comes disgrace, 
    but with humility comes wisdom. ~ Proverbs 11:2  some translations say contention rather then disgrace.





Webster's handle on this word ... 
  • it is the quality or state of being proud, as in inordinate self-esteem or conceit, or a reasonable or justifiable self-respect or delight or elation arising from some act, possession, or relationship (such as parental pride). 
  • pride is also defined as proud or disdainful behavior or treatment. 
  • an ostentatious display.
I've been thinking about pride for a while now.  



“Pride is Satan’s disease” by Thomas Brooks“Pride is a sin, which of all sins, makes a person most like Satan. Pride is Satan’s disease. Pride is so base a disease, that God had rather see His dearest children buffeted by Satan, than that in pride they should be like to Satan (2 Cor. 12:7). When Paul, under the abundance of revelations, was in danger of being puffed up, the Lord rather than He would have him proud like Satan, suffers him to be buffeted by Satan…

It was pride which turned angels into devils. They would be above others in heaven—and therefore God cast them down to hell… Other sins strike at the word of God, the people of God, and the creatures of God, but pride strikes directly at the very being of God… God bears a special hatred against pride. His heart hates it, His mouth curses it, and His hand plagueth it.” –Thomas Brooks, “The Unsearchable Riches of Christ” in The Works of Thomas Brooks, Vol. 1, Ed. C. Bradley (London: L.B. Seeley and Son, 1824), 51-2.

Pride is interesting in that some pride is necessary ... an excess of pride is corrosive, absolutely destructive ... .  It seems almost like a balancing act.  

wounded warrior ... here because the reality is life is messy ... sometimes it sets you down ... this guy, we played with army men all the time when I was growing up ... this guy, wounded, is still all in, he's still a player, and ... he's gonna be a lot harder to knock down ... the lower CG is an asset to his whole team.
I thought I'd go ahead and post this ... go on to the last of the seven vices,  ... I know there's plenty of more to think about here. So ... wrath.




Friday, May 25, 2012

photo from Pinterest ~idk
I love the architecture of this tiny body
and the genius that drives it to fly
wonderful insignificant design
these guys are a dime a dozen and almost too tiny to notice
... amazing
It snuck up on me this year ... I wasn't prepared.  Summer.  The two youngest are out of school and I haven't given a thought to how we might spend our extra time together.  I have gotten used to spending lots of time alone.  Alone like no one else is anywhere around.  Alone like I know when Sammy moves from the back porch to behind the shrubs ... to that hole the size of a wheel barrel that we both pretend he didn't dig.

So here we are in the season when I will hear "Moooommmm" quite a bit more often then I am used to.  Four is giving swimming lessons, and life guarding for a couple of weeks, hanging with friends, before she heads North to the wilds.  She's spending the summer working as a camp counselor ... no AC, no phone ... laptop only in the mess hall and only during a specific time of day ... yes to hiking, kayaking, ropes courses ... ponytail fun.  I'll see her a few times on the weekends ... pretty much how it normally goes even when she's snuggled in to her own bed at night.  She, more then the others, texts me throughout the day ... pictures and words.  I'm going to miss her phone especially!  I really want to do that screaming eagle trip with her this summer ... zip lines we like.

V, with her pesky sister soon to be totally out of the way, is amped for my full undivided attention, she wants to flip it off and on like a switch.  We are working on that ... the world can't revolve around her whims.  She gets huffy when I don't stop what I'm doing when she wants ... also, when I look in on her when she doesn't want ... hmmm, I am raising a kitty cat.  Now that is an interesting insight.  Last summer she was a little girl ... now at twelve, I'm starting to see the woman she's becoming.  I'm looking forward to showing her the stuff I do ... home stuff like cooking.  I think she and I will shop and cook together quite a bit this summer ... and maybe I can even get her to line the glasses and plates up in the dishwasher just so ... like I do, lol.  I doubt it!  Yesterday she reminded me that she loves yesterday's muffins sliced and reheated in the panini pan.  I see a summer of late breakfasts lining up.

L is out of the house at like five ... doesn't even want a cup of coffee before he's out.  He does an outdoor class with a handful of his best students every summer ... I call it field ops.  Last year I would drop by with Gatorade or Popsicles mid morning, about the time of day when the students felt they had done a full days work ... oh ... I had forgotten ... he swings by the donut shop on the way out there and picks up sugar bombs for all.  Uh huh ... now I see how it is ... (I'm not a fan of donuts though I do find it almost impossible to say no thanks to the perfect banana nut bread under the glass at Starbucks.)

I did fly yesterday ... this guy is going to be okay to work with some.  He is, by his own account, stubborn and impatient.  I am not sure that those are desirable traits for very graceful flying.  He doesn't trim at all ... never.  I told him he could really smooth out his landings by trimming out to stabilize final.  I actually told him if  we fly together again that that ... trim ... will be what we are working on.  He knows he flys  an altitude that jags like an AC/DC induced sound wave.  He would be so much happier with his flying if he'd trim.  I can live with with the idea of working on that ... what might get to me pretty fast is the stubbornness.  I don't dislike the trait specifically, plenty of place to dig one's feet in, but not where you say you want different results.  Retired Navy.  I haven't seen a lot of those guys, but I think I'm starting to see "a type".  Impatient can be channeled I think ... he says he pings the stall warning routinely on departure because he is impatient to get in the air.  That is ridiculous.  He shares the plane with another guy ... bet that guy trims his landings ... my guy is probably flying the same trim up.  I have enjoyed a lesson of returning to the airport, flying the pattern and landing with just rudder and trim.  I was surprised that it could be so sweetly landed thus.  I think that would be a good exercise at altitude for this guy, if he can visualize it.  Other thing was either too much rudder or none at all ... hmmm ... I wonder if he cares about tracking the center line as much as I do.  Winds were calm and our plane found herself over the grass to the right of the runway before we were 150' - 200' in the air.  I'm like, "Let's track the center line out on this one ... pick a cloud out there straight ahead and fly towards it" ... then, "Nope ... you're over the grass" and he said, "I'm flying straight at the cloud I'm looking at ..." I said, "Next time you better pick a cloud that knows how to behave then, 'cause we are nothing but green!"  He's going to hear that better if I say the plane is doing this or that ... and encourage him to provide "directional inputs" for "her".  Maybe ... well see.  We just need to get him stubborn about the right things.

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

ƒlash mob ... love this

Pennies from Heaven


Early start on prepping this room for new paint.  Where the house has settled I slice away veneer and check out the structure beneath.  A rusting sheet rock nail has "popped" some paint in the ceiling, tsk,tsk, that needs a little help ... and there are tiny fissures radiating at about 45 (hmmm ... no degree symbol ... strike one) degrees away from the door frames, yes, those beautifully restored doors ... they are so pretty ... pristine like a magnolia blossom.  I moved furniture ... swept dust bunnies and got to it.  
This should dry and be ready for sanding pretty fast ... I've got a fan blowing on it.  Sometimes that is counterproductive, because this stuff likes to cure on it's own time ... trying to speed up the process can cause cracks in the wall mud, but this is such a thin application.  I'm taking my chances with it ... living large.  Hah.


So ... look what moving furniture turned up.  I remembered my top secret hiding place for these little keepsakes, which belong with my little brother,  he has me watching them for now.  The rings, watch, and cue chalk were in a drawstring clothe bag which I emptied with a smile this day.  Our older brother's things.  I have many a fond memory watching the hand that handled those things ... lining up a pool shot which I had something riding on.  Today I could almost hear the trash talk ... and the companionably laughter that chased it around the room.  God, I love the sound of a solid break. 

That little scrap of faded paper is a highly prized artifact, documenting membership to the squirrel club.  Yep ... you have to climb the fire watch tower at the Coconino National Forrest to scoop up one of those bad boys, least that was so back in the sixties.  I can still remember the sheer terror that threatened to empty my little bit of a girl bladder ... right there for all the forest animals to see.  I forced my trembling legs to climb while looking down through the metal mesh stairs, that was back before I was old enough to know to look up.  Always look up.  My big brother raced up the flights and called back to me, "Come on, D ... don't be such a ole sissy pants."  Oh yeah ... the lifetime membership to the Honorably Squirrel Club has been so much better then that ... I'm definitely not an ole sissy pants.  I sometimes wonder how high those watch towers are ... seemed like it had to be the very tippy top of the world back then.  The time softened bit of memorabilia was carefully tucked inside this book of old wheat pennies, my brother carried it in his wallet as a joke ... it was there when his wallet came home.
I love this collection. There is a "first-prize" ribbon attached to the last page ... I think it was some school thing.  These pennies make me laugh ... they actually surprised me by hinting at how much laughter I have stored up over the years.  Life ... is fun.  We all had little collections of pennies and nickels, dimes too.  This is the only booklet I have though.  We had so much fun with those collections ... using them as magazines of ammo ... coin bullets which we would launch at each other with rubber band sling shots from behind pillow fortresses.  Pop and fly ... money everywhere.  Flying money made my Momma loud ... plenty of trouble, it was still so funny ... funny enough to fill my heart today.  Yeah ... we coulda put an eye out.

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

what I was trying to think about ...









Maybe I shouldn't have moved the washer and dryer without help ... I hurt my back up there around the shoulder blade where it in silence always does hurt ... the hurt that hurts all the way in to my heart.  I am upset with myself for letting myself get to a place where I want to lick old wounds.  You know what I mean ... like you have a thing and you think you worked through it and it's like you're so relieved the lightness of it floats you.  Then ... something like a little physical ache pings at it and the shadow of it darkens until it seems to have substance.  And next thing you know, you dig it up ... and gnaw on it like an old dried out bone.  The pain in my back kept me from being able to breathe deeply enough ... a big breathe pushed at the pain, and then some other stuff piled up on that and now I feel ... not good.  Not good ...  like rope burned.  Last night I had the moving car dream again ... I was alone in a van in the middle of the very back seat, unable to move forward to apply breaks ... the roof of the vehicle started pressing down ... later I dreamed that I was drowning.  It's not a panicky feeling it just feels so hopeless.
I notice that I want to feel ... cynical ... edgy ... guarded ... distant. And ... not.  Not at all those things.

I wonder if this is the sheet rock dust ... or the little picks and dings on my fingers.  I may be spending too much time alone.  I am happy with my work.  I like what I am doing.  But ... I am fretting about something.  A phantom.

And ... I'm letting it make me bitchy towards people I care about.  That's a bit of a surprise ... I thought I was just mean talking' to myself at times like these.  So ... I am trying to figure out how to re-boot.  You know ... not like a re-set on a circuit breaker that will pop again, but like ... what to do with the real problem ... and, truth is, some problems can't really be "fixed".  Some problems ask us to manage our response to them. And ... cranking on others is just not helpful or acceptable.  It doesn't alleviate any of the pain and in fact just creates new little pains.  Super silly response ... I swat at a fly and slap myself silly.  Yep ... that's pretty much it.


Well,  I have my little list of things going and fresh gardenias on the table.  This day wants to be a good day ... a grateful day.  I am going to look for the good in this day ... starting with a second cup of coffee!

"The triumph of good in the individual life is the central victory which makes all other victories possible." Lynn Harold Hough




Monday, May 21, 2012

"When love awakens in your life, in the night of your heart, it is like the dawn breaking within you. Where before there was anonymity, now there is intimacy; where before there was fear, now there is courage; where before in your life there was awkwardness, now there is a rhythm of grace and gracefulness; where before you used to be jagged, now you are elegant and in rhythm with your self. When love awakens in your life, it is like a rebirth, a new beginning." ~ John O'Donohue

 As I putz around updating some of the electrical outlets and have time to think about that love stuff ... I hate to admit that part of the problem with love for me is ... I don't like how it commits me. I don't like how it makes me vulnerable. I don't like to ... trust ... I don't seem to want to risk someone else's stuff ... Their intentions, motives. What I think I usually see is ... people default to their own interests. They juggle and balance their own interests without very much thought to how it affects others. People expect each other to look out for themselves. So for me it is about fear which is a trust thing. And ... The thing is, love is very complicated. It's like a maze ... You really don't know what you're "getting" in to. I am thinking of people I both love a trust ... Not very many. I think I trust their intentions ... best intentions which are unselfish ... there is no agenda. I really do think Paul Newman's letter does a fair job of expressing ... mutuality in a romantic relationship, but loving intentions are not unique to a marriage.  We get lots of different places to practice love.
Sammy found this little guy who had fallen from his nest ... or maybe was just not strong enough to fly.  His momma bird "chirped" him in to the shelter of a bush as we watched from a distance.  I wish I could know his whole story ... will he make it ... how many more days does he need to develop ... will he be able to do a first flight from the ground?  I don't know how the process works.  We thought it was neat that the momma bird had a contingency plan.

before church
after church ... 
gun shopping ... I especially like this one ... American made, it fits my hand well ... good weight.  
I like guns ... don't know why,  just do.

Today I'm going to fly a bit ... paint a bit ... do bunches of laundry and freshen up the flowers on the table.     This week I'd like to finish the crown molding and paint my bedroom.  Also I want to get those striped chairs completed. And install the three new switches and five new duplex outlets.  That may be my primary to do list for the week ... re-hang the drapes after L puts the hardware back up for me.  
This is the last week of school for my two youngest.  I'm seeing lightning bugs ... fireflies ... baby lizards ... summer is here.

I had been thinking about trust ... and hope also and recently, this year, especially about love.  Love is one of those things whose actions are ... I want to say counter intuitive, but that's not exactly true ... well not at all true in some instances.  In others ... precisely true.  The dynamics of the exchange with the birds ... showed what might be instinctive love ... from the mother bird.  She didn't want to forfeit the baby and yet she "protected" herself.  It seemed like a very balanced thing ... she was very present to offer her help yet she steered clear of harms way for herself.  I am thinking about this not in the context of family relationships, but in a broader way.  I guess every relationship ... or exchange ... can be guided by love.  Tiny little exchanges supported by love can re-direct entire courses.  I have seen it happen and I know it's true.  Love as a compass.  Hmmm.  Compasses can be pretty squirrelly.  Their error proclivities are knowable though.  I wish it were possible to always act in a loving way.  Part of the problem of love for me is ... love commits me and I need to figure out how to manage my commitments ... sorta like that bird did.  All in, but mindful.

Well ... off to the day.