Market Moments

The way the fermenting melons in the entryway filled that slick dark space with their fecund ambrosia.

and then

The way the tiny woman's cowlick and dark blond shine so perfectly matched that of the little boy in her carriage.

and then

The impenetrable El Capitán of cloud and electricity that loomed over the obliviously sunlit asphalt.

Yes.

It was a good day, after all.

Dirty Car Art [Alert: Genius Material Ahead!]

Scott Wade uses dirty cars

to create his masterpieces.

See his website here. Wow!

Shhhhh ...

... he's sleeping. (This gray tree frog lives under the edge of my parents' rainwater collection barrel)

writing notes in class

Today I sat in a workshop for 8 hours; sometimes I wrote things down. I wrote my bucket list, which I'll share tomorrow, and this:

I also flipped through a whole body + soul magazine, and got some great tips for living green, which I'll also share. It's amazing what you can learn when you have a chance to sit still for a few minutes!!!

belated Birthday goodness!

These thanks are so long overdue that it's embarrassing. On my birthday (Nov. 5) I received not one, but two, bouquets at work from far-away admirers!

The first bouquet was from Jamwall, muse of my muse, my midnight heavy-breather and my morning wake-up call, hand to my puppet self, master of my secret inner teacher-slut:

The second was from Osbasso, awakener of my inner half-nekkid dancing sprite, solo enthusiastic applauder in my audience of one:

Thank you both for such surprising wonderfulness! Such unexpected kindness made my day, my week, my entire birthday month.

Reasons #297 and #298 why I love my job:

Universal truths,

randomly placed

by the hands of the young:

Creative freedom:

Our science tables were so trashed that they needed a paint job; I asked the principal for permission to paint them. We laid the base color in October and have finally gotten around to putting the animal prints on. Yesterday we started the giraffe; I projected the print onto the screen so kids could see how it should look. One tiger is also finished. There will also be cheetah and zebra. Only 10 tables to go!!!

Pretty.

Stick out your tongue.

(click image to see amazing snowflakes!)

(thanks, Tuuna Taco!)

I went to St. Maarten.

Oh yeah, it was like 3 years ago, but it was pretty. I just needed something tropical in my life today. It is MF cold ovah heah!!!

How was your trip to the beach on that gorgeous Sunday?

It was like this:

The last rose of summer began to open today.

My rose bush sent up one last, flailing stalk with one bud at the top, which opened today at dawn:

Reason #998 Why I Love My Job

This school year, I give a prize to kids who come up with the best way to use recycling in the completion of their homework; I thus accept homework done on cereal boxes, soup cans, old worksheets, newspaper, etc.

Christopher took it one step further today:

Pretty Thing in the Sky

These were taken over Massachusetts last week:

What a Wonderful World!

Torn Between Two Lovers

I was visiting my faraway friend Stefan this summer, and I discovered something odd and wonderful installed in his shower. He had put in two showerheads, one on each wall.

Each had its own temperature control, and its own on-off faucet. One could opt for an ordinary, single-headed shower ... or the double headed water whammy.

Which do you suppose I chose?

I just took a regular shower. End of post.

Ah, I see you folks know me too well to believe that. Of course I was all over the Double Showerhead Suds-o-Rama of Joy!

It was rather an odd sensation to be getting it from both sides. At first I had both faucets set to the sameish temperature, and enjoyed being saturated while I was soaping. The sprays were just far enough apart, though, that I would have to move to one side or the other to get maximum coverage. If I stood still in the middle, only my thighs and calves got the full brunt of their watery loving; not bad, but not as enjoyable as a full-body spraydown. I would stand slightly to one side so that one faucet could work on my upper body, the other on the lower half. Then I felt like I was spending too much time with the first faucet, so I would have to move over and give faucet #2 a chance.

By far the best moment of this trip to Liquid Xanadu was when I changed one of the faucets to cool water, the other to hot. The conflicting sensations, melding to the perfect temperature as they met on my skin, was as close to ecstasy as I had been in days! I almost dared a pirouette, to allow a cocoon of hot-cool to coat me as I spun, but I was afraid I would fall and break a hip and have to lie on the tile soaking in hot-cool spray until the ambulance arrived. And that's not sexy.

I think I would like a double showerhead in my own house, but I also feel it is an extravagance that I cannot fully justify. Double the water use, just for some hedonistic pleasure? I think not. I am way too puritanical for that. How can I truly enjoy such behavior if, as I am being blasted from both sides, I think about the children in India, drinking the water their cattle are shitting bathing in? Even Stefan said he rarely uses the two showers, because of his feelings about water use.

So I'll stick with my boring old single showerhead. But maybe, just once in a while, I can visit Stefan and cross back over to the Dark Side. It was so wet and wonderful there.

I Saw Pretty Things

In addition to all the family pictures on my camera, I found these from my vacation:

Progress

Just home from vacation. Many of you did quite well on your assignments, and I will give them back to post on your refrigerators & share with Grandma as soon as I get a moment that does not include digging sand out of newly-discovered crevasses and throwing out moldy lettuce.

Until then, looky here:

Due Date: August 17

Assignment: Unlock Your Inner Artist!

While I am visiting my favorite place on earth, I am borrowing a page from The Artist's Way and giving you an assignment. Simply fill in the blank with a word or phrase that answers each of the following questions. You may do it here or on your own blog, in your journal, or on a maxi pad. Just as long as you do it! You have one week.

I, meanwhile, will be picking sand out from the spaces between my toes, and thinking of you.

Here we go:

1. My favorite childhood toy was ...
2. My favorite childhood game was ...
3. The best movie I ever saw as a kid was ...
4. I don't do it much but I enjoy ...
5. If I could lighten up a little, I'd let myself ...
6. If it weren't too late I'd ...
7. My favorite musical instrument is ...
8. The amount of money I spend on treating myself to entertainment each month is ...
9. If I could get anything for my inner artist, I'd buy him/her ...
10. Taking time out for myself is ...
11. If I start dreaming ...
12. I secretly enjoy reading ...
13. If I only could have grown up to be ...
14. I wish I could make/write/grow/ create a ...
15. My parents think that I ...
16. What makes me feel weird is ...
17. My most cheer-up music is ...
18. My favorite way to dress is ...

(loosely adapted from The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron)

Sin and Redemption: A Finders-Keepers Story

This image belongs to Howard Finster.

I was returning my shopping cart to the piled-up wreck at the "Convenient Cart Return" when I suddenly spied a 12-pack of Coke on the bottom half of someone's abandoned cart. I instantly snatched it up and put it in the back of my car along with my other groceries. Score! my mind shouted, then curled furtively into a corner to bask in its contempt. Thief, it whispered. But I didn't listen, I had free soda!

As I drove away I spied a man returning to the cart area. He scanned the carts, then threw his hands skyward in exasperation.

I left and went to the drugstore, batting at the little buzzing voice inside my head.

Five minutes later, I returned to the grocery store with the 12-pack, and brought it to customer service. I said, "Somebody left this in the bottom of their cart in the parking lot." The clerk thanked me and gave me the Ahhh, you are a Good Samaritan. A lesser being would have kept it smile of benevolence. I accepted her thanks with the shame of the undeserving.

I don't know if the man would ever have checked back with the store, and discovered that the would-be thief had actually returned his soda. Discovered that he was wrong about me.

Right about me.

I know that I would have kept it, had I not seen the damage I caused firsthand. His tired, of course it was stolen face. His hands, yelling silently at Heaven.

I would have consumed each and every ounce of that Blood Soda. And with each can I drank, I would have tasted the bitterness of my own sin. Am I truly redeemed if I only returned it out of guilt, the crime already committed? I think not. I am still a lesser being, and I don't even have the bubbly sweetness of an icy cold Coca Cola as salve for the wound of this knowing.

A Life Begins

Somehow

at this instant

nothing seems

quite as momentous

as this wee eggplant

pressing its way into the world

from the first of the dying blossoms

here in my patio garden.