We're back over in Texas this week ... just in time for the 500 year flood event.

We made a quick stop in the metroplex to check on L's mom, then down to Waco for a short stay just because it's handy and our room in Georgetown was not available.  We spent Memorial day in Fredericksburg where we thought to explore a s a possible place.  Fredericksburg struck all of us a great place to visit ... not where we want to live right now.  My husband can't see himself living an hour away from a bookstore chain of some kind.  I could be happy anywhere I think. Closer to Austin works well.  We have rented a house with the idea to find a spot to build.  I don't know how the next "while" will go as far as building goes.  Building would be great.  My husband is very concerned about the manipulation of the housing market.  He is more attentive to that sort of thing then I am.

The selling of our home has been weird for me.  I was surprised by the "pre" on the market interest - both people made offers on the house ... one was pretty close to what we expect to sell for ... almost good enough, not quite.  We have a couple of little projects (the bathroom floor and kitchen cabinet doors) to finish up before we list it.  I think it will sell right away at the price we have in mind.  I like the location of the rental.  Settling in to a different place will take some doing.

Here are some interesting looking clouds.  These pictures were taken yesterday, they trailed a very robust TS system.

The last shot shows how they "blur" in a stratus layer.  Here's a link for more info on these bad boys.

artichoke

frozen mess ...

view of weather from inside the restaurant ... it poured down!

bird nests in the yard

Bird nest with several eggs inside a tool bag pouch hanging inside our garage
the back door always stays open for Sammy ... she found a safe place to roost,
though she does startle every time I walk by there.

This nest was anchored in the branches of the gardenia bush
- inactive-
spotted it while searching for gardenia "starts"

same nest settled in the crepe myrtle for a brighter shot
I admire the architecture and the industry!

maybe it's this type of nest:

Warbling Vireo Nest

Vireos usually suspend their nests between a forked branch, with the nest hanging down below the level of the branch.

Photo © Guy Lichter

Just pictures (and a few words)

new coffee device rocks!

still like a mid walk break at Starbucks
(in before any other loungers)

Ami's cool scissors and my grey-er hair
This may be my last hair cut with her - so - 

Isn't it true with life that more is always going on then "that"?

I'm skipping right over notes on our trip to "The Dash" last weekend to notes from yesterday ... a zipline-canopy tour.

https://vimeo.com/46127678

I forgot to ask them if I could include their picture in my notes  here so "the guides" with their faces blurred out for now at the highest perch on our tour.  The most interesting part of the fun for me came when I stood right there where the guy in front is standing in this picture. There are two possible safety connections from the platform up the stairs.  I selected the "wrong" one as I tend to do when given a choice.  I had to back up, untether (the safety cord) and reconnect to the proper line for the "Screaming Eagle" course. Tiny missteps "glitch"me when I think I'm doing right ... they cause me to revisit the recent thought process ... like ... I'm all set to do this (whatever it is) and now I see that I made an error in judgement somewhere along the setting up part and it causes me to re-examine.  The platform was stable, but creaky like a wooden floor in an old building ... we were way above the ground up where it's breezy.  Just northwest of here I could see smoke stacks that I'd used as ground reference points for flights in the area several years back when I was "doing" my CFI,  a memorable time in my flying.  Today I recognize that this story began (if there is a beginning to a story ... they really start in the middle of other stories and overlap just like the several flights of stairs under the tiny footprint of this tower do) ... this story, rather part of this story, began back there around the weeks I spent using those smoke stacks as reference points ... they still provide reference, an orienting reference for life rather then a flight.  I was writing about that spot where one steps forward without anything to hold on to, reaching for the pole to steady the step up on to that tiny box which boosts you up for the guide to attach your harness to the zipline ... as a matter of clarity, my harness was tethered to a safely line before I climbed those last two or three steps out in to the wide open ... but ... it didn't feel that way.  You know you are safe in some part of your mind, but on a different level you know this is not a place you "know" ... instinct kicks in and if you are cautious of heights as I am ... well, my legs were just a bit weak as though to indicate "we are not going to cooperate with the rest of your crazy self here".

I've wanted to "do" the canopy tour for some time now.  I thought now or probably never as it will be less likely to come back to Georgia from Texas for something like this.  IV was happy to join me for the adventure which was something like throwing caution to the wind.  I say it that way because with all the safety measures securely in place caution truly didn't play a role ... I would never go to a place where someone might be seriously hurt, I wouldn't take myself there and I wouldn't encourage anyone I cared about to go there ... in that sense the dangers of "the zip line" are largely fantasy ... and that fantasy can be used as a re-boot for any number of "heartbreaks".

I have wanted to share experiences like this with a buddy ... doable things like walking The Trail, unlikely things like hang gliding around the Christ the Redeemer statue in Rio ... other fun things, places to connect, places where you don't feel ... alone or not understood ... not to be cynical, but I think it's true that we are largely alone and largely not understood for whatever reasons ... sharing what's really going on is hard, finding ways to face it yourself, to grasp it so that it might be shared is ... not easy work.  Life keeps us too busy for the work of living.  Sometimes I make myself busy so that I won't have to feel the messiness of life.

That's really what losing my brother is about to me ... you've got this buddy who really knows you, has known you all the way to the first memory of yourself ... and they know your stupid stuff and your better stuff ... .  I think the important relationships in our lives are really, at best, shadowy outlines of what/how/who Christ wants to and is able to be to us.  We have a place in our souls that longs for company/to accompany and we have trouble figuring out how to fill it.  Well, I do.  Even the most intimate of relationships with our "people" doesn't, can't fill that spot ... that sacred place.  And ... I'm not sure that what I'm talking about is actually "fillable" in this physical part of a lifetime.  I know people would argue that it's all about where you are spiritually ... I'm just saying that as long as I have a body wrapped around my soul that I doubt I will experience the "fullness" of that not full place.  I have looked for ways to experience Immanuel ... I am open to God with Us ... I believe ... and life falls short.  I really like life, I'm just saying, what I long for doesn't happen here.

I'm getting distracted from the story on this particular flight of the climb to the top of what is my own life ... the place were I get to step off in to eternity.

The zip line, Eco tour, rocked.  It was really cool.  Almost not scary at all ... I didn't go there looking for an adrenaline rush ... I went there to mark a passage to a different time.  I went there to move through an actually experience, last year and the past several years in fact (not just the end of lives I loved, but other important life events) ... I wanted a day to mark the portal to what comes next ... what life experiences are still out there for me. Some people mark their skin with ink to record their journey.  I save memories like snapshots, I hold them in my heart, sometimes I need to revisit them, some may be best left alone.  It really surprised me as the day unfolded ... the chimney stacks (I should find a picture of them for here) reminded me of "a time" where even in the crazy fantastic messiness of life I felt perfectly joyful.  I have remembered the feeling and recently thought to recapture it for just a brief second as one might catch the scent of broadleaf magnolias as they swoop over the full blooms ... no lingering ... one glorious whiff and zooming on by.
So, for me the zip line experience was about climbing to somewhere, stepping off in to the unknown, enjoying the glide (and it was magnificent) and going with it.
I also wanted to "do" the suspension bridges ... not because I thought I'd enjoy them as I expected to enjoy the zip lines, but because I want to demonstrate to myself that I didn't need to be afraid (because of my long history of suspension bridge themed anxiety dreams) of stuff that's not really that scary.

I wanted to celebrate what was and what is yet to be. I wanted to embrace "that".

Four and I started the adventure with two couples, one young engaged kids, the other, an old married couple, and our two well trained, personable guides.  The kids were around my daughter's age and were "up" for anything the day might bring.  They were celebrating his birthday she said.  The older couple were friendly yet very quiet.  She seemed like a person who really needed a big hug (to me).  They didn't have a phone with them so I offered to take a few pics with mine and send them along later which I did.  Here's her note back:

Thank you for the pics. I know y'all thought I was scared but there was more going on than that. I had found out that my husband had a go phone and had been texting a woman and it was our ***th wedding anniversary yesterday so my heart was breaking. Under other circumstances I would have really enjoyed everything. It was so kind of you to comfort me up in the trees. God bless you and thanks once again. 


more going on then that

Isn't it true with life that more is always going on then that? "My heart was breaking".  I don't know this couple, and I doubt that our paths will cross again.  I feel fortunate to have been able to provide some small measure of comfort ... I feel fortunate that she was able to share her story, the story on this particular moment in the longer, bigger, stack of stories which have and will make up her life.  I appreciate that she shared.  

   

There's probably more I would like to say about the day ... It was a great day.  Without exception I felt gratitude that I could experience the pleasure of what could be seen and the way it was being seen  moving through the woods, over the steams, zigzagging on the zip lines ... .  I am grateful to the people in my life ... to L for treating us, to C for coming along side on a big deal to me day, for strangers who in sharing their stories enrich my own.  

 This one was snapped right before I clicked on to the safety line at the top of the tower, that's the look of bravado because I know my legs were a bit jiggly 

And this one is my favorite shot of the day ... this is the nothing to hold on to where it really feels unfamiliar, just you and the air and a decision which amounts to a leap of faith ... and those reminder towers distant right with a contrail overhead swirling in the flight levels ... I love it.

A few of the sights at SOUTHERN MAKERS 2015

O R B I X
HOT GLASS

Cal Breed

L A Pottery

 Larry Allen

L A Pottery

John Emerald Distilling Company

CAB yachts

Flannel & Floral

Alabama Funk
Ronnie Crutchfield

DEBORAH STRAWN GLASS

Lucy's INSPIRED

CATHEAD

Revel and Liz

for Goodwyn | Mills | Cawood
co-founders of SOUTHERN MAKERS
with SOUTHERN ACCENTS,
E. A. T.  SOUTH,
and MATTER

Happy Anniversary

Notes on Pablo Neruda

http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/pablo-neruda

 In his speech upon receiving the Nobel Prize, Neruda noted that “there arises an insight which the poet must learn through other people. There is no insurmountable solitude. All paths lead to the same goal: to convey to others what we are.” 

last class .. before and after

(Game face  smile in driveway prior to departing)

I've worked with a lot of students in this very room.
I'm proud of their accomplishments,
and there will be days that I miss this.
(smile|sigh)

messy places and grace

I've noticed that in life there are a lot of loose ends.  Stuff ... doesn't wrap up.  Most of the time there is no closure.  Where did the idea of "closure" come from anyway?  I mean , I am partially who/how I am because of life's events and how I navigated/continue to navigate them.   The thing (one of the many things) I love about being almost 60 is the perspective that time on task affords.  I like the perspective, and I like the subtle changes that life tweaks in to those perceptions.  I like that we can learn, rethink, and maybe even settle in to a more graceful attitude.  I like it when I see grace in action around me.  I'm really amazed and so very thankful for those tiny glimpses of God's love in action.  He keeps on using our life stuff to benefit us it seems.  We don't get closure because it seems like we keep on learning from previous events - some of them messes or "near messes".

That really is what I'm thinking about today ... messes.  But first this:  You can barely see him in this shot, but that is a fox.  He, or more probably she, sauntered across the street not more then 50 feet ahead of us.  This is my neighborhood of mostly heavily wooded one acre lots.  New homes are going up on a large parcel which was near the creek and relatively undisturbed.  Those hand rails step down to a tiny overflow branch of the main creek which zigzags through here.  This has been a great place for walking.  I've loved the birds especially ... and the deer are cool ... foxes and coyote less so.

So ... messes.  You really don't know mess until you start the moving process.  That's my new "epiphany".  It's really a multi-layered thing.

We have decided that our time here really is winding down.  Bittersweet isn't the right word because none of it is bitter.  I have loved raising my kids, walking my dog and flying here.  It's been a good place.  And ... the people are good people.  I'll miss seeing faces familiar and dear.  Like this ... the mailman.  He has been the mailman the entire time we've lived here.  Last year, just out of the blue, he gifted me with a handmade wooded cross (imperfect, more on that later) for reasons unknown to me ... he said it was just on his heart to do so.  I've already packed the cross or I'd snap a picture of it real quick for you.


Messes.  Two things need to happen in the house.  I have a few "loose ends", unfinished (and some un-begun) maintenance to do ... plus, this came as a bit of a shocker, being away as much as I was last year encouraged messes to accumulate!  Dormant messes, like the layer of dust perched atop the bedroom drapes at ceiling level.  I re-painted that room (messy) a couple weeks ago and in the process the drapes and rods came down (messy) and ... they were really bad ... after washing and the laborious effort of ironing and rehanging them I thought they looked nice.

A few years ago I put a beautiful new cork floor in the master bath ... but I hesitated on how to properly seal the seam where cork meets tub.  That created a mess.  Eventually it was a big mess and had to be pulled before showing our home for sale.  There's that mess near where I rest and in the rest of the house boxes are stacked in every room as I begin to cull through and pack.  Some boxes which are not going with us and are left open as we decide on rummage sale or Salvation Army ... some boxes are taped shut and labeled as carefully as I do things (maybe overdo things).  I'm finding that I just thought I didn't need my wok ... it's crazy (and feels extra messy because I tend to be organized). The bathroom floor is a smaller mess setting in the larger mess.

Here are the new floor tiles.  My very smart husband is "learning" exactly how to install these.  He has been perfecting his technique over the past few weeks ... starting with the place in the bathroom where the toilet connects to the drainage pipe.  Yeah ... no working toilet in there for the last little while and because this is a special weekend in our family we have plans to be away for the next few days ... so ...most generous time estimate of getting the toilet back in looks like a couple of weeks (to me).  I don't really care about the inconvenience of being down a toilet in the house.  What I don't like is ... the dust from the do-overs.  He is getting more thin set squishing up through the voids between the mosaic pieces then he thinks is advisable.  Once that dries to his dissatisfaction he cleans it out with a scrapper and an air compressor (with the help of José ... Cuervo that is, or more accurately, Hornitos).  The dust is everywhere.  I still had important girl stuff out on the counter when the dust started swirling in there ... the door way has remained open through out this process and I fear for the tops of my drapes as I sweep and mop, dust furniture and lamps, rewash bedding ... it's a mess.  A big mess.  And ... well ... it's a mess.  Last night as I lay in bed wondering if "that smell" could be pervading from the open floor drain (I put a plastic lid on it a few days ago) I started thinking about messes.
My messes.
The messes I may want to help make ... messes avoided by God's grace alone ... messes that people who care for me have directed me around rather then through ... those kind of messes.
Sin messes maybe.
It's funny how we are ... we really sometimes do want to flirt around with making and enjoying messes even when we know messes are messy ... messier then they could possibly be worth.  It seems best to reserve room in your life for the unavoidable messes rather then knowingly creating them.
I was thinking about that within the context of the bathroom tile mess ... not my mess. (A mess I appreciate, truly I do.  Thank you for fixing the floor so beautifully ... so excellently. This isn't about that ... that just helped me see this.)  Not my mess, but a mess I am "near".  The entire environment I am in seems to be excessively messy ... as messy as a move.  As messy as living in a storage zone ... as messy as between here and there.  But ... that with the dust mess ... that's what I'm thinking about.  Someone near me is "fixing" a mess and that's messy business.  The dust from their mess settles on my stuff.  The dust from their mess becomes my mess.

When I do wrong, make messes ... the mess makes messes for people who are near my mess.  If my mess is sin ... my sin (my choice to sin) affects the people near me (near me and my mess).  And this ... I'm not participating in the bathroom tile mess.  I am stirring clear.  But ... the fallout from that mess is very much something that I deal with, something that at very least affects my space to do life in.

I think it is interesting that people say "I'm not hurting anyone 'cept myself (with my messes)."  Last night I thought it must be grace which makes the messiness of figuring out how to best behave ... or the messes created when we don't behave well ...  grace must be the secret super power which makes escaping or enduring the messiness of life possible .

So - Sometimes as we "fix" messes we make other messes (and possibly even want to make what we know will be other messes).  It's really good to have tolerance for one an other's messiness.  It's amazingly cool that we can help each other not to make messes.  It's neat when the residue from our fellow's messes can be swept up fairly easily.  It's great that grace abounds in messy places.

It's amazing to see grace in action(s).