totally random

Remember those carefree days of summer? When we got thirsty, we’d stop and take big, happy gulps from the hose, paying no mind to the dangers of lead seeping from the PVC. If we weren’t at home, we might stop off for a drink from a water fountain, completely oblivious of germs lurking on every surface. When we wanted to keep in touch, we’d phone, pay a visit, or write a letter–and we did so, focused on the other person; it didn’t cross our mind that we could be out and about, doing other things in the process. We’d sit out on the front porch and visit with a passerby, not considering that person might be one of America’s Most Wanted. We’d eat fresh churned ice cream and homemade strawberry shortcake, because it was delicious–calories were a moot point. And when we’d go on road trips, we’d entertain ourselves–with books and games, naps and conversation; we never imagined plastering ourselves to an electronic screen of one sort or another.

We’ve come along way since then, we’ve learned a lot. Let’s just hope we never lose more than we gain…

Long weekend or entirely too short, I hope you had a lovely weekend.

I ran errands and worked on projects, ate a hot dog and relished an ice cream cone; I spent time alone and out with friends–you know, the usual.

My mum and I did go out with our friends Theresa and Kristi. We were rained on–indoors. We also witnessed a wee kitten nearly ran over, in slow motion, while her poor mother looked on. I gasped, turned, and covered my eyes–in dramatic form, apparently, for the entire cafe soon gaped in my direction. But seriously, it was a close call–had it actually transpired, I would have been traumatized forever. So. It could not be helped.

Speaking of animal cruelty, I finally saw Water for Elephants. Loved it–of course, I’m a sucker for sweet pachyderms, period pieces, and a good love story. Sigh.

I also took a stroll through Eagle‘s Field of Honor …

Six-hundred flags representing our service men and women. Naturally, I wanted blue skies and sunshine. I wanted the perfect backdrop. But that’s not how life works, is it? When we celebrate Memorial Day, we’re not celebrating perfection–we’re celebrating sacrifice.

Of course, looking back I see the grey, overcast sky was its own bit of perfection. It added solemnity. Walking amidst a sea of red, white and blue, the only sound that could be heard was the crack of flags as they blew in the wind. Thanks to the rain, even the neighboring playground remained silent. It was the perfect place to offer a heart of gratitude–to remember the true meaning of the holiday.

With all this rain I’m beginning to feel as if I’ve been transported to Seattle–minus the perks of Pike Place Market, shopping, or hopping a ferry to Victoria. That doesn’t seem right at all. Not to mention, my hair is the size of Texas and I’m not sure we’ll have much of a garden, thanks to a nasty habit of planting seeds right before a heavy rain. Perhaps the seeds survived; perhaps they clustered; perhaps we’ll have a nice crop of green beans in our lawn. There’s really no way of knowing.

On a bright note, a good downpour does ensure the yard gets watered; helpful, since I’m not exactly sure where I’d find the time.

It’s also good for reading; I can find no complaint in that. And that, I’m sure, makes us all thankful.

Speaking of reading, I continue to work here and there on my book blog. I just finished re-reading an Emerson bio written by our very own Amanda Hammond. I’m sure it will royally tick some people off; and yet, I chuckle.

Do stay tuned …