They have over 40,000 living creatures...including penguins!
And lots and lots of fishies!
Can you see Little Jakey and me living here? I SO can!!!
Friday, June 29, 2012
A Living Museum
California Natural History Museum in Golden Gate Park, San Francisco.
They have over 40,000 living creatures...including penguins!
And lots and lots of fishies!
Can you see Little Jakey and me living here? I SO can!!!
They have over 40,000 living creatures...including penguins!
And lots and lots of fishies!
Can you see Little Jakey and me living here? I SO can!!!
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Ventura Beach
I am still California dreaming today of Ventura. The unrelenting heat here keeps my mind on the beach elsewhere. Wish I was there again...
Monday, June 25, 2012
Friday, June 22, 2012
Malibu
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| Water is cold in Malibu |
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
My Moon
A couple of nights ago, I saw a beautiful full moon. Since I was driving, I was not able to get a picture of it. I just appreciated it.
However, I still have a picture of my moon and stars. I always have a picture of my moon and stars. Here he is.
However, I still have a picture of my moon and stars. I always have a picture of my moon and stars. Here he is.
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| My Moon and Stars, Jakey The sweetest thing that ever drew breath |
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Feeling Homesick
I woke this morning to a feeling of home sickness. Odd you may say since I woke in my very own bed. It is a feeling I have learned to accept. There is only one cure for such sadness. Pop in “In Spite of All the Danger” by The Quarry Men into the cd player. In very short order, I felt surrounded by warmth and brightness.
Time is flying past me as quickly as the countryside through the window of a high speed English train. The further I travel in life, the quicker it flies past me. I envision life as a corridor from one place to another. In my mind, life here is not a destination but a hallway leading to another hallway or maybe leading to a final destination.
As I have often mentioned, I feel displaced. How is this possible when I believe that everyone is doing exactly what they were born to do exactly when they were meant to do it? Could my speculations be wrong? Obviously, my logic could be flawed.
My mother used to laugh as she would call to mind days since past when my sisters were in school yet I was still too young to attend. She said I would frequently seek her out as she was busily going about her daily chores just so I could adamantly inform her that I wanted to go home. She would repeatedly tell me that I was already home and there was nowhere else for me to go. She never knew what I meant and honestly, it is so long hence that I can no longer recall what I meant by it either. However, I suspect I do know the feeling to which I was referring. It is a sensation that has never left me. It was the feeling of this morning on this day.
Previously, I believed it was the ‘where’ aspect of my life that was radically out of balance. I felt I was just in the wrong place, a missed turn, a failed opportunity, a destination gone sadly awry. Could it be the universe hiccupped when I was born landing me in Texas when I should have been born in London? Instead of riding my bicycle on a scorching, black topped road, I should have been playing hopscotch in a chilly, key lock park. A girl never has been born to this planet with more love in her heart for all things English than this girl. How can this be? Is it an ancestral gene? Where did this passion come from and why does my niece have the same proclivity? I only have questions. I have no answers.
At cursory glance, one would think this bears an easy solution. The obvious resolution is move to England, correct? Moving and belonging are two entirely different things. Of course, I could transplant myself there but I would always be an outsider. I would never be the real deal. I would never be the receptacle for memories of an English past. Everyone knows that once you leave a place, you never fully belong there again. The second you walk out the door, you are a changed person. So when I go, I go losing all feelings of belongingness to anywhere.
Recently, I have come to think that perhaps that hiccup did not just land me in the wrong location but also in the wrong time. I was born either too late or too early. Still I know, I am doing exactly what I was meant to do at exactly this moment. I was meant to feel this right now, at exactly this place. I was meant to be an outsider looking in, an intruder, an interloper, questioning, feeling displaced, wondering if I will ever find my true place in this world. Will I ever feel at home? As more time flies past, I doubt that I will. That is okay though because I am cool with it. However it plays out, it is meant to be. I so love that. Although you may not understand my mystical and childish ramblings as even I do not, do not scoff for these may be the very mysteries of life that are keeping the stars apart.
Time is flying past me as quickly as the countryside through the window of a high speed English train. The further I travel in life, the quicker it flies past me. I envision life as a corridor from one place to another. In my mind, life here is not a destination but a hallway leading to another hallway or maybe leading to a final destination.
As I have often mentioned, I feel displaced. How is this possible when I believe that everyone is doing exactly what they were born to do exactly when they were meant to do it? Could my speculations be wrong? Obviously, my logic could be flawed.
My mother used to laugh as she would call to mind days since past when my sisters were in school yet I was still too young to attend. She said I would frequently seek her out as she was busily going about her daily chores just so I could adamantly inform her that I wanted to go home. She would repeatedly tell me that I was already home and there was nowhere else for me to go. She never knew what I meant and honestly, it is so long hence that I can no longer recall what I meant by it either. However, I suspect I do know the feeling to which I was referring. It is a sensation that has never left me. It was the feeling of this morning on this day.
Previously, I believed it was the ‘where’ aspect of my life that was radically out of balance. I felt I was just in the wrong place, a missed turn, a failed opportunity, a destination gone sadly awry. Could it be the universe hiccupped when I was born landing me in Texas when I should have been born in London? Instead of riding my bicycle on a scorching, black topped road, I should have been playing hopscotch in a chilly, key lock park. A girl never has been born to this planet with more love in her heart for all things English than this girl. How can this be? Is it an ancestral gene? Where did this passion come from and why does my niece have the same proclivity? I only have questions. I have no answers.
At cursory glance, one would think this bears an easy solution. The obvious resolution is move to England, correct? Moving and belonging are two entirely different things. Of course, I could transplant myself there but I would always be an outsider. I would never be the real deal. I would never be the receptacle for memories of an English past. Everyone knows that once you leave a place, you never fully belong there again. The second you walk out the door, you are a changed person. So when I go, I go losing all feelings of belongingness to anywhere.
Recently, I have come to think that perhaps that hiccup did not just land me in the wrong location but also in the wrong time. I was born either too late or too early. Still I know, I am doing exactly what I was meant to do at exactly this moment. I was meant to feel this right now, at exactly this place. I was meant to be an outsider looking in, an intruder, an interloper, questioning, feeling displaced, wondering if I will ever find my true place in this world. Will I ever feel at home? As more time flies past, I doubt that I will. That is okay though because I am cool with it. However it plays out, it is meant to be. I so love that. Although you may not understand my mystical and childish ramblings as even I do not, do not scoff for these may be the very mysteries of life that are keeping the stars apart.
Monday, June 4, 2012
What Could This Be?
I am still in frantic cleaning mode. How does a person accumulate so much stuff? It is crazy, ridiculous! This past weekend, I went through my kitchen cabinets unloading dishes, glasses and small appliances that I have never even used! Why did I ever think I needed those things? I must have had a good reason at one time. The people at the local goodwill store where I unload it all now know me on a first name basis. Eventually, I will get it all cleaned out. I have given myself a year.
Sometimes between bouts of cleaning, I took breaks to work on these little art pieces. This is probably she-art but I am not sure yet. I have not made anything in a few months and felt rusty. I need to flex my muscles. As they say, use it or lose it. The sad part is this...I already have made enough she-art pieces that even they are becoming something that I will eventually have to get rid of...there is no end to it!
Wonder what these will be? Honestly, at this time, I have no idea. Stay tuned for the end product.
Sometimes between bouts of cleaning, I took breaks to work on these little art pieces. This is probably she-art but I am not sure yet. I have not made anything in a few months and felt rusty. I need to flex my muscles. As they say, use it or lose it. The sad part is this...I already have made enough she-art pieces that even they are becoming something that I will eventually have to get rid of...there is no end to it!
Wonder what these will be? Honestly, at this time, I have no idea. Stay tuned for the end product.
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| Any ideas what these could be? |
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
How I Spent the Holiday
People like different things. That makes life interesting. Some people like animals. Some people like kids. Some people like kids and animals. Some people like neither. Some people like vanilla ice cream. Some people like chocolate ice cream. Some people like both. (me!) Some people do not like either one. Who are THOSE people? They are just wrong!
I remember when one of my nieces was about 8 years old, she 'accidentally' marked on the headliner of my car. It didn't bother me. One day, my sister noticed it and asked me who wrote on the headliner of my car and I told her it was her daughter. She asked me if I had scolded her for it and I told her no, that 'her daughter' had explained it was an accident and I had accepted the explanation. My sister gave me a smug look and said "I am glad you do not have kids. They would be in prison by now." In other words, apparently, I am a 'suckah'. I am. I freely admit it.
If I was a 'suckah' with my nieces, I am a complete lump of mush with my kittens. Do they ever do wrong? You bet! They can tear up more than I can shake a stick at. Do I ever punish them or scold them? I might scold but only rarely. I never punish. Usually scolding requires their involvement in something dangerous like trying to jump on the cook stove when there is an outside chance it could be hot. I only turn it on about once a year so that is not likely. I am constantly looking for hidden dangers to them in anticipation so we can detour around it before the situation crops up.
One thing cats love are strings. Some cats are completely in love with strings so much that they would forsake a Thanksgiving turkey leg for a two inch long piece of crochet thread. I do not understand it but they love to chew it then they love to swallow it. I do not have to tell you that eating any type of thread is not good for the digestive system of any animal. The thread has the same effect in the gut as creating a puckering binding of sorts. Thread has been fly in my ointment ever since I began caring for cats. It has caused so much pain and suffering for me and them that I am ever vigilant searching for thread or strings or anything that might remotely even resemble said objects. Even if I tout myself as being a 'cat whisperer' understanding the minutest nuiasances of the feline mind, I cannot anticipate how the world appears through their beautiful slanted eyes.
I mean, who would have thought this would have been so enticing? Who would have thought this was string nirvana? I should have seen it coming a mile away. Afterall, it is my specialty.
What could I do to repair this damage though? There were several possibilities. I could sew drapes. Again, not good with cats. That makes the adventures of climbing almost impossible to deny ones little feline self. I could buy more blinds. Isn't that the definition of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over again but expecting different results? Okay, so what to do? I decided to repair them myself and 'cat proof' them. Okay, don't laugh.
If he (Nigel) can figure out how to get those strings out of that, I will eat my hat. But who knows? He is very smart! I mean, look at how he makes me work for him. And by the way, I don't wear a hat so I am not in danger. ;)
Friday, May 25, 2012
Testimony that I wasn't expecting
Wow. Someone I do not even know far away in another state but was aware that I love to investigate ancestry for people sent me this picture and asked me 'Do you know anyone in this picture?'
Actually, the short answer is no. I never knew these people but I know 'of' them. It is a beautiful thing!
The oldest lady in the front holding her hat with a stern look on her face is my great grandmother, Elizabeth. She was a petite lady less than 5 feet tall and wore size 4 shoe. Her father was a presbytarian minister. The ladies surrounding her are her 3 daughters. On her left is Ella, on her right is Corrie. Standing behind her is my elegant grandmother, Erna that I never knew yet I still love. She looks beautiful there and exactly like my mother. Could she be the one in Heaven that loves me? You bet it could be her. It could be someone else that I never knew. Yet I know they are there and love me. How do I know this? Because I feel their love from here.
This picture is a treasure! I come from an ancestry of strong, able, intelligent women. I am blessed.
Actually, the short answer is no. I never knew these people but I know 'of' them. It is a beautiful thing!
This picture is a treasure! I come from an ancestry of strong, able, intelligent women. I am blessed.
Monday, May 21, 2012
Testimony from Long Ago
Do you ever stop to think about all of those who have come and gone on this ancient planet of ours? When you do stop to consider it, it makes us all seem so small and inconsequential. I love to find testimonial evidence of a life lived here long ago still standing and still appreciated by someone of today. It does not need to be anyone I knew of, read about or am related to because we are all sort of related in the family of man, aren't we? No one lives in a vacuum.
These windows were crafted by artisans long ago. These dyes cannot be created any longer. The recipes are lost. The ingredients can no longer be obtained. They are gone from this planet forever. However, the artisanship of someone who lived and breathed just like we do can still be appreciated on this day.
Over a hundred years ago, someone crafted this glass in Europe. Someone that got up and went to work each day trying to make a living for themselves and possibly a family created these precious pieces. Someone with worries and joys just like us. Someone that was loved. Someone that is now gone and remembered by no one. Still, this glass brings enjoyment to anyone that studies the intricate patterns and fine workmanship provided by someone that is now nameless and gone from this life. That is a beautiful thing to me.
These windows were crafted by artisans long ago. These dyes cannot be created any longer. The recipes are lost. The ingredients can no longer be obtained. They are gone from this planet forever. However, the artisanship of someone who lived and breathed just like we do can still be appreciated on this day.
Over a hundred years ago, someone crafted this glass in Europe. Someone that got up and went to work each day trying to make a living for themselves and possibly a family created these precious pieces. Someone with worries and joys just like us. Someone that was loved. Someone that is now gone and remembered by no one. Still, this glass brings enjoyment to anyone that studies the intricate patterns and fine workmanship provided by someone that is now nameless and gone from this life. That is a beautiful thing to me.
On Friday, I was telling anyone that would listen to me how beautiful I think the peony is and complaining that this flower will not grow in this desert we live in here. Then, on Sunday, our church was filled with peonies! What are the odds? I cannot recall us ever having peonies in church before this Sunday. Someone in Heaven heard me. Yes, they did and I love them for it! Aren't they beautiful?
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Feeling Thankful
I have a staggering appreciation for the universe. I become so easily fascinated by the smallest aspects. The falling shadows ever so slightly waving around a lily being brushed by a breeze. The complex yet simple perfection of birdsong. The warm rays on my skin of a perfectly placed sun…not too close but just close enough to bring life to our world. God is an architect. The Grand Designer. There is order to the universe. I find comfort in that. There is reassurance in knowing that I am doing exactly what I was meant to be doing and exactly at this time. It may not be what I wanted it to be when I dreamed of this day years ago but upon arrival of this day, it is what it was intended to be. I love that.
When I write that I am a truly, truly fortunate person I cannot begin to adequately convey the thankfulness in my heart for this blessing. I have been wonderfully gifted and favored through no merit of my own.
My dreams are beautiful. My dreams are a gift and there can be no doubt of that. In my dreams, I experience a lucidity that I can never hope to attain in a conscious state. My life becomes clear, focused and marbled with meaning. I understand completely. A light of awareness casts comprehension across my past in which all becomes as clear as a neatly laid out road map. I understand the whys and wherefores. I know I sound like a bit of a mystic. I suppose I am but this life is a mystery, is it not?
Obviously, last night, I had a dream that is freshly embedded in my memory. Again in a dream, my mysterious visitor came to me to share insight on why I do some things as I do and why I have chosen certain paths for myself. This I know with all of my heart as most assuredly as I know my name. Someone in heaven loves me. My path has not been an easy one but it is mine. I would choose no other. This was the course chosen for me when the world was swirling, forming out of chaos when the Grand Designer put us all in motion to follow each of our individual paths.
It is a beautiful thing that this fellow and I got here to this place at the same time. I am so glad I could be there for him when he needed someone. No, I would alter nothing if it meant by doing so that our trajectories would not have crossed.
When I write that I am a truly, truly fortunate person I cannot begin to adequately convey the thankfulness in my heart for this blessing. I have been wonderfully gifted and favored through no merit of my own.
My dreams are beautiful. My dreams are a gift and there can be no doubt of that. In my dreams, I experience a lucidity that I can never hope to attain in a conscious state. My life becomes clear, focused and marbled with meaning. I understand completely. A light of awareness casts comprehension across my past in which all becomes as clear as a neatly laid out road map. I understand the whys and wherefores. I know I sound like a bit of a mystic. I suppose I am but this life is a mystery, is it not?
Obviously, last night, I had a dream that is freshly embedded in my memory. Again in a dream, my mysterious visitor came to me to share insight on why I do some things as I do and why I have chosen certain paths for myself. This I know with all of my heart as most assuredly as I know my name. Someone in heaven loves me. My path has not been an easy one but it is mine. I would choose no other. This was the course chosen for me when the world was swirling, forming out of chaos when the Grand Designer put us all in motion to follow each of our individual paths.
It is a beautiful thing that this fellow and I got here to this place at the same time. I am so glad I could be there for him when he needed someone. No, I would alter nothing if it meant by doing so that our trajectories would not have crossed.
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| JakeyBooBear |
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