Desert Magnolia

Do you ever have those days when you think about a messy emotional situation from years back and suddenly it ALL makes perfect sense? When, at the time, it was a bloody mess and confusing and painful and just far too stupid for words? I do. All the time. So I ask myself, 'Self, are you just focusing on living your life and then get caught by surprise a lot, or are you just obtuse?' The answer varies. Just the other day I realized that a tremendously messy and painful situation in which I found myself embroiled during my first marriage (then explosive demise of same) HAD ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO WITH ME. I had the bad timing to enter into a dance that had begun years prior, with players who were so intent upon manipulating and controlling and one-upping each other that my entrance simply provided them another person with whom to play the relationship chess game. I was definitely the pawn, and a decade younger than all of them, so not only did I enter the arena without ...

Easter weekend for us..was kind of a blur. There were errands, a pedi, hubby's long hike, my two runs, Daughter's constant movement, visiting friends, friends over for dinner, dinner out with Daughter, etc. And there was the requisite Easter at Grandma's, which would have been fabulous if my darker than Hades sisterinlaw hadn't been there to poison the day. Grrr. Suffice to say, after much discussion and analysis and general observation we decided that enough is enough. She will sully no more of our precious get togethers. Because we refuse to participate past this point. But back to the bunnies, which is really what this is all about. Kinda. The disturbance which had afflicted the bunny universe last week, causing boxing match turf wars and general upset to observers seems to have abated for now. During two runs, on two different routes, no bunny boxing occurred. In fact, I saw plenty of them, but they seemed to be minding their bunny business which is to say t...

And I'm not referring to my bra. Come to think of it, well, never mind that. After a long Skype session with my son yesterday afternoon in which we discussed a myriad of topics, and during which I realized how amazing and observant and intelligent and compassionate and awe.some that kid is, again, I felt blessed and delighted and just, happy. And I took that happiness and warmth with me, shared it with Hubby, enjoyed a dinner of grilled rosemary pork chops, a butter lettuce/artichoke hearts/grape tomatoes/red onion/Persian cucumber salad dressed with a sweet lemon vinaigrette and a nice Pinot Noir, and settled in for Thursday night TV. Hubby surfed between baskteball games and our favorite sitcoms, the evening was balmy, the cat was friendly, and the term 'content' kept surfacing in my consciousness. And then about 930 p.m. my brotherinlaw called to ask if he could swing by the house for a sec, to 'drop some stuff off.' To which I replied 'of course!...

I've been told, both recently and fairly frequently through my life, that I spend way too much time thinking about some things. Like, I analyze them to death. Like, in the case of personal conflicts I try to view the other person's perspective whenever/wherever possible to be as fair as I can. Which means I tend to think a lot about a lot of stuff a lot of the time. And I sometimes exhaust myself. Ok, often I exhaust myself. And, my husband has pointed out to me from time to time, that sometimes a person is just a douche. No thinking or considering their view/history/intent is going to change that. And, he appends, once a douche, always a douche. Life is simpler for him in many regards. He has clarity of vision that I lack, and I respect him for his clarity while also acknowledging envious feelings as well. I wish I could do that, but I'm not wired that way. Anyhoo, about the weight thing. Hubby and two of his colleagues have bet tickets to an Isotopes game on who...

I encounter bunnies on my running trails all the time. They hop across the path, minding their own beeswax and just going about the business of being bunnies. They're good at it. But apparently bunnies have a violent side. A side I saw for myself during my Saturday run. Off to the right of the trail were two bunnies...squaring off. I'm not kidding, they were back on their haunches and planted...a bunny staredown was underway. And then one of them punched the other one in the bunny face! He (or she,  I could not tell from where I was) then backed down, and the other one advanced, punched, kicked, pounced.. I'm guessing it was either a bunny turf dispute being settled the old fashioned way, or about someone flirting. It is Spring, so that could be a part of it. For the record, those boxing bunnies were not cute, they were pissed.off. And I may have picked up my pace a bit as the bunny adrenaline wafted through the Springtime air. Imagine having to explain a bunn...

The beautiful Spring flower arrangement you brought into the office on Tuesday is looking forlorn and wilty. The mood that struck first thing was kind of crabby and mostly not one that supported a strong start to a.nother.day.in.office.paradise. The normal grooming routine, including extra long, warm shower and attention to makeup that usually isn't paid didn't jolly me out of said crabbiness. Even the cheerful silk blouse with cute tie over jeans accompanied by cute sandals (and even sporting my new French pedi that I felt compelled to get on the way home last night) isn't doing it. So now I'm going for chamomile tea, shutting my door and just trying to focus on the endless damned list of tasks that feel right now like they're sucking the life out of me and accomplishing very little in return. Or maybe I should just plan to go for a walk or something healthy at lunch because, wow, I'm sounding super bitchy and don't need to be sharing that love wi...

Last night, at the end of a productive but hectic day, I fought the urge to relax into the evening when I first got home. That pull is strong, but I resisted. Instead I changed into running clothes and headed out.  Which turned out to be a mahvelous idea. It took few minutes to work the knots of the day out of my system, to clear my head and notice the heady aroma of the lilacs in bloom, the silly birds chattering away, the myriad of spring flowers bursting out into view and really get into just moving. After sitting...all day. At my desk. Focusing on my computer and my deliverables. And my schedule. And so on and so forth. But gradually I relaxed and enjoyed the warm air on my skin, the early evening light, the feel of the pavement beneath my feet. There were kids playing in the park, soccer teams practicing, footballers in lineups, and the typical spring evening activities occurring wherever I looked. And the jog...began in an uphill leg. Which usually takes my breath a...

I was born the year The Feminine Mystique was published. My mom was a college student/artist/bohemian, and my dad was almost the same sans bohemian. He was more of a barbarian (his own view, voiced many times over with a chuckle). They raised me to be me. To follow my path, to explore my life, to make mistakes, to succeed, to love, to embrace, to know that no matter what, the key was getting up after a fall and just moving on. I watched my friends living much more conservative and traditional American lives at that point, that is to say that they were living a consumer-driven version of the American Dream. Cooked up by the media, and our reaction to the horrors of WWII. While observing the differences between my life and my friends',  I often felt conspicuously different, like a wild child growing up in Victorian England. We ate homemade whole grain bread. We had chickens (in the middle of the city, that lived in a frame/stucco chicken coop my Dad had built that was bette...

Remember when you had one pair of tennies and they were for everything? Everything. Those days ended for me in high school when I started to run in earnest. In Nike Pegasus, their original running shoe, in white leather with a red swoosh. They were cushiony and durable and made me feel like less of a poser and more like a real runner. After that the style options exploded. I can't remember when Nike came out with their patented Air technology, but I had one of the original pairs..paid a ton of money for them, but it was money well spent. I ran all over the place in those things. All over. The foothills, the valley, sidewalks, parks, around the Academy, wherever...many miles in the originals. Generations of shoes later, I find myself not so happy with the Nike anymore. I've spent thousands of dollars on them in my life, but a few years back began to notice what I deemed to be a general decline in quality, though they've never stopped increasing their prices with ea...

And where on earth did 35-47 go??? But I'm being overly dramatic. Again. See, four dozen? Not such a bad place to be when you're me. I've done a lot, I've seen a lot, I've raised a family and landed airplanes and docked yachts and landed (then released of course!) a marlin and climbed mountains and run a LOT of miles and loved deeply and long and hard and felt..so much that, surprisingly did not kill me..that I feel stronger and more centered and energized than in a long time. And I'm blessed with more than one person can ever rightly expect in one lifetime. And I now possess the wisdom to observe a nanosecond longer than I would have 20 years ago before jumping headlong into a new adventure. Which means many less mistakes but still the desire to stretch and grow and be better and more open and generally less judgemental and overall more accepting and mostly, mostly, knowing that this gift of life is precious and special and mine to experience any way ...