Desert Magnolia

Yesterday I went to say goodbye to another amazing human being. He had fallen to his addiction,  in spite of a sterling intellect and absolute certainty that he would prevail. He was wrong. As I look back at his lovely service, and the people who spoke lovingly of him, I felt incredibly sad, but also proud for him. Some people are not stellar humans. They are selfish and idiotic and really, at times one wonders at the universe's wisdom, 'What the hell? She's an IDIOT! What is the point, here???" Onward. He was kind, he was generous, he was brilliant. And he was sensitive. Very. Deeply. Which, as we all all pondered yesterday, created a perfect storm in which his addiction was able to prevail, at last. There is a strange bittersweetness to services. We are there to bid adieu to a dear friend or loved one. In the process we reunite with those with whom we've lost touch, with those we appreciate after many years in spite of miles and time separating us.

The desert Southwest is named that for a reason. Our rainfall is way below other parts of the US, and when people fly in for the first time, they are struck by how brown everything seems to be... But let it rain a few times and magic happens. The little plants and flowers that wait patiently for the tiniest bit of moisture dance with joy and sprinkle the desert with sage greens and various gorgeous flowers of incredible intensity. And if the rain continues for more than a shower or two, as we're told it will this year, the entire desert gets a fluffy bluish green fuzz not unlike that of an adolescent boy sprouting his first beard. The Pacific is warmer than it has been in awhile, which bodes well for us. The last few days have been stormy, and lovely rainfalls have occurred during the night, making the morning air clear and fresh and moist and rinsed of some of the typical pollens found floating abundantly this time of year. People look better too. We kind of glisten up, moi

We are not Irish. I mean, I may have a wee drop or two of Irish blood from my Grandfather's side of the family, but really, we're not Irish. We're more English/northern European Czech/Polish and Lebanese...as you have probably gleaned by now. Oh and 1/32 Cherokee, but that's not part of today's focus. My hubby is Polish. 100%. Not a drop of Irish in there that we're aware of. Sparkly blue eyes, olive complexion, deeply felt emotions and rather stubborn...100% Polish, that's my man. But every year we make corned beef and red potatoes and cabbage. And we drink a Guinness or two to celebrate the day. Oh, and hubby's very favorite of all time DVD will be in the player tonight - Celtic Women. He loves them (who wouldn't, they're talented, gorgeous, and embody the Irish tradition, right?), and our friends all tease him. I know that if I lose him to another woman one day, she's gonna be Irish, and probably sing like a bird. I have no defense

Web surfs can be interesting exercises in either discovery, or, like today, in futility. I'm not sure what I was seeking when I went out surfing a bit, but aside from a funny blog post by one of my fav bloggers, the effort was frustrating. What is it we're looking for when we go out there? Is it comparative happiness, something that Facebook seems to provide?  People seem so happy out there. Big smiles on faces, snapshots of lives, the highlights shared, the deeper, darker moments usually concealed. Today's brief visit to the FB included finding a beautiful tribute to a former colleague who has passed, by a dear friend who has also been a colleague, at times, and has always been one of the most eloquent writers I know. That loss, of the former colleague, makes 5 losses for this year. That is just too many. Maybe I'm just in a weird head space, but right now I just don't find the joy in surfing. The bigger question is whether or not I try to fan the flames a

There are times when you blink and large chunks of time have passed. I'm told this happens when you're super focused and working toward a larger goal, which I am. But I am also told that this happens when life deals up some really painful events and your psyche/soul/emotions just need a little time to try to process. 2015 is not currently my favorite year in ever. In fact, if I had to reassess, I'd say it ranks among being slingshot into the sun and not popping out the other side. Or like being dematerialized and only coming back 70% on the other side... Since January 1st, we have lost four dear souls. Four. We have attended three funerals, a memorial service and a wake. We lost people who, one and all, made the world a better place by merely having been in it. They all brought something special to everything they did, and had a special light that shone. They were all fierce and funny and passionate and funny and had special specialness. They all made this world a mu