On you

I was reading though you blog today. I subscribe so I read your writings quite a bit. Im stuck in the whole I seem to be digging deeper. Even my blog post on being stuck is un-profound. I found a similar post on your site, of course and found that even when your stuck your still profound. Bravo.

If appears that you only started blogging March 2011, but I’m on an iPad so I might be mistaken. Random and surprise there’s a link to my blog. That’s really nice thank you.

You know I woke up this morning thinking about you. Not in a creepy way. No not like that. Out of all the blogs I read you have to be the most mysterious. Like what city do you live in? It seems a bit hard core, but I have never lived in a city. You don’t appear to have a car as you take use public transit a lot. You volunteer a great deal. I respect that but don’t understand why you put up with the bullshit. Your soul is very kind.

I can’t even find the words to describe you. The first post I read I thought, “Quit your damn complaining”, but you had a valid point and I would have been irritated to. As I read I realized this, I’m being judgmental about a face, a women, a place I had never been or known. I would like to say that as I read I get to know you. I don’t. You always leave me hanging waiting for the next adventure. Your next life experience.

Now maybe I didn’t read the one that states all the facts. The who, what, where, when, or why. Though in little bits and pieces you lay them out as any good writer should. I am always in suspense. What the hell is going to happen next. Quite frankly it’s better than a novel because there is no end in site.

My life is pretty boring. I live in a nice house, go to work, have kids, do my thing. In an epic sort of novel way I’m not on the New York times best sellers list. There is no drama, no suspense. Just an average life. You on the other hand are a best seller. Well…..at least to me.

Honestly I trying to pay you a compliment. In fact several compliments. Sometimes, on some days I find my self wanting to change worlds with you. Does that shit really happen. Are you kidding me. Man my life is boring though I love my life. You probably don’t see it, and if indeed these are true life stories. I like to think that they are. Then you have an amazing sense of the pen. They way you describe your world makes me feel like I’m there though I don’t know where there is. As you walk though the city, watch people out the window, describe the dress, and the cup of tea. No it’s not that the tea has gone cold. It’s that it wouldn’t taste the same if you reheated it. So true and I envy that I didn’t see it that way.

It’s the detail. The description that brings me into your world. The weather, the people. I have to wonder; I really do. How educated you are? Have you taken writing classes or does writing just comes naturally. You say you have low self esteem at times, but honestly….. I think your fine. That’s not a judgement. From where I sit your talented, you have this incredible way with the world. The way you perceive it, relate to it. Your a strong woman. I admire you. I know your looking for a job and may I suggest free lance writing. You would be good at that. I

You know who your are. I’m quite sure of it. I’m not the best with words. I don’t have your talent. It’s a compliment, all of it. So here’s to hoping I didn’t stick my foot in my mouth as I often do.n fact you would be great at that. Write a book. I know I’m not the only person that thinks this.

Memorial Day

I never really think to much about this. As it turns out it’s just another day off, although today I chose to come into work. It’s the first time I have worked this particular holiday in eight years.

As always I sat on my front porch drinking coffee with my husband, reading emails, playing words with friends, checking groupon. The usual stuff. Not thinking anything about the day. It just a day. Then…….my iPad started beeping with all the site subscriptions I have. Everyone was writing about Memorial day in one way or another.

The lives that have been lost; the lives that have been forgotten. The injured. The found. Every life has a value to someone. Every person has been loved. Everyone gone remembered in some way by someone.

I work with Marines. I have lost friends, and acquaintances to war. I remember them often. The smile on their faces. The sound of their voice. The kindness in their hearts. The things they loved to do with their free time: skydiving, sailing, rock climbing, biking, etc. They are all amazing men.

At work guys don’t speak of the war much. I never really ask. Their home. There with family and the war is in the past, although I hear my share of stories.  Most are amazing and totally different than what you hear in mass media. It makes you wonder, so I no longer watch stories about the war.  The Marines are proud and I am proud of them.

I have meet boys who are now men that have lost their sight, their arms, their legs, the normal mental state. I used to feel sorry for them. I don’t anymore. They are proud of their misfortune. Proud of the job they have done. Willing to do it again without regret.

I don’t think about all I am grateful for everyday. I should. We have many freedoms that others don’t.  I should be more grateful. It’s a shame we need a day to celebrate the one who sacrificed. Those who have lost their lives for our benefit. Those who have sacrificed their lives for the ones they love. The country they love. It’s a shame that as a people we forget. We get so involved with the day to day we simply don’t have the time to remember. At the very least we have today.

In loving memory of my friend.

Chaney Ranch

This is an updated post. Jantz sent us a video he made of our son. And quit frankly I am super stoked about it.

Driving

Today as I am driving to the gas station after dropping off my kids I notice a man walking across the street before. He was of average height and build. Looked to be normal. Had everyday casual clothes on. Just walking across the street going from point a to b. I wonder where he is going. What he mint be thinking or whom he might be thinking about. Then like poof his whole life story pops in my head. I have made it all up.

He grew up here loving to surf and play guitar. He’s a musician by trade, but work is tough. The pay even tougher. So when he comes to run his errands he parks in a central location and walks. He figures it’s a good way to think and get exercise because he cancelled his gym membership. He needed to money to feed his two kids.

His wife is an RN at the local hospital. She is well educated and loves the sound his guitar makes when he plays. That’s how they fell in love. In a small jazz club. Recently she had to take a pay cut. He finds ways to save money by clipping coupons, walking, and car pooling with other parents.

You know his daughter is quite the budding ballerina. She dreams if being the princess in this falls play. His son is a star football player and practices hard to make it to the draft, although that is years away. Both kids play guitar to humor dad, but neither want to be a musician.

I have named him Joe because it’s an easy name. Joe is rather content walking. A happy man and I smile at the happy life I have given him.

After I get fuel its off to the dance studio to register my daughter for next season. I notice an older women sitting in her SUV just outside. Of course I have a story for her as well.

She’s a grandmother of two rather bouncy young girls. Who she takes care of while their mother is at work. No, she doesn’t live with them, but there’s are plans for that in the future when the housing market gets better and she can sell her house.

In the car she is discussing the dance schedule with her daughter. Who use to love to dance. She has fond memories of that. Now her granddaughters fill that void with twirling bodied, swinging arms, and dancing feet.

This is my usual day. Making up stories about people. Today they were happy. Sometimes they are tragic. But, there is always a story to be told.

Professionals vs Common sense

I read this article: http://nolongercensored.wordpress.com/2011/05/23/a-living-breathing-relationship/

“I’m not a professional and therefore can’t answer this question… professionally!” This is a direct quote.

At what point in time did professionals become the authority and common sense get throw out the window. The author makes clear, concise, valid points. Surely points that any good professional would make, for a price. Yet with some good old fashion common sense and experience he has come up with these on his own. Which, by the way, has saved him a bit of money both on a divorce attorney and a psychologist. With that he can take his lovely wife, assuming he’s married, out to dinner the next time he forgets to take out the trash.

I have a friend with a wife and 3 year old child that’s going to counseling. Their problem… communication. That’s a killer for any relationship. That’s common sense, communication. In fact without it we can’t even order a burger. We know it’s best approach. Yet we take a pass from using it when it comes to relationships, especially when it’s mixed with respect.

I’m mad at you and don’t want to talk now. Just say it, respect it. Space does wonders.
This is not working out. Ok, later.
Have two tubes of toothpaste, two computers. I do because I leave the lid off the toothpaste and I get angry when he’s on my computer touching my keys. Communicate these points. Easy fix.
Agree to disagree and let the dog lie in peace.

My husband and I have nothing, not one thing in common, except our kids. He loves to travel, I don’t. He loves the extreme, I don’t. He likes the news, I don’t. He likes beer, I don’t. He likes PC, I don’t. I don’t like anything he likes, but I like him. Why because of communication and respect. It common sense.

Another quote:

“What’s mine is hers and what’s hers is hers…wait! Just kidding! ”

Really, it’s true. Men see the world in these terms. They are willing to give up all worldly possessions for the woman they love. My husband is happy with my old, so I can have the new referring to computers, cars, monetary items. I’m happy. He’s happy. Items can be replaced. People can’t and I want to keep this fish. Common sense. I know you see that, right.

So why do people have to be so mean when it comes to relationships. Drag it out for months only to devastate some poor unknowing fool in love. Narcissism ring a bell.

You don’t need to be a professional to figure out that common sense = happiness, to include communication and respect. Exclude narcissism.

I hope I did justice to the original writer. Please check out his site. He makes very good points in all his posts. Truly, a professional with a great deal of common sense.

Failing

I read a featured post yesterday on failing , so here are my thoughts.

My honest emotions are infuriating. Failing is a part of life. In fact it’s how we find what we are good at. Aristotle was probably not good at sports, but rather philosophy. What if we had told Aristotle he was a great soccer player, a winner. What if based on that he became a athlete only to find after years of playing he didn’t make the cut and was told he sucked. Finally, someone was honest, but he had wasted years because of perpetual lying. That’s how I look at it. Why lie. Yes the truth hurts. Why teach your children to lie. A white, small, little lie is still a lie.

My daughter likes to sing, she sucks at it. It doesn’t mean however that she can’t find personal joy in it. My son, terrible at drawing. It doesn’t mean he can’t make a beautiful picture or find joy in the arts. These shouldn’t be career choices.

I am blatantly truthful with my kids, for some that makes me a bad parent. This is a perfect example. When my son started riding motocross tracks (mx) he struggled but loved it. One day the track was dry not up to his liking. He complained incessantly. I got mad and this is what I said, ” You can be a whiney little cry baby girl and we can go home and have a tea party or you can man up and get the job done. I’m done with your whining. Either take off your gear or ride.” I was mean. I could have been nicer for sure, but that was the turning point. He chose to man up. He accepted the conditions of the track and rode. Now he’s a rockstar on 85’s. He’s a great rider that can conquer any condition set before him. This is his passion in life. He lives and breathes it. Mx was his choice. He made it and his is willing to face any necessary consequences. The only rule I have is simple. The day you want to give it up, walk away just say so, and we will be done. I don’t see that day ever coming. He has given up holidays, parties with friends, and all unnecessary luxuries for this. He will make a great man.

Im not a fan of team sports, because there are losers and winners although that’s not how it’s played. Telling a kid he is a winner all the time only leads to a false sense of security and self worth. Have you watched the auditions for American Idol. For some they were told how great they are all of their life. Their self esteem is huge. They have a false sense of awesomeness. Randy says the suck. They go home crying. They have been living under an umbrella of lies because nobody wanted to hurt their feelings. Now what. If someone had just been honest then another greater path could have been taken. Time, life was wasted on lies.

That’s just the way I see it. Lies waste life, talent, and ultimately builds a strong resentment rather than a bond of respect. Sure I hurt my child’s feelings when I tell them they suck at something, but my kids will do great things because I was honest. My daughter is eleven and taking college for kids courses all summer. She is an amazing learner. She wants to do this. My son is at Chaney Ranch riding with pros, because he has passion and commitment. Both of my kids are individuals who make choices, decisions, face consequences, just like I do. Just because they are young doesn’t make them incapable of handling life. They are. They want to.

My guitar with distraction

My Guitar

It’s been awhile since I played and quite frankly I’m at a loss on how to get started again. No, I know just pick it up and play. It should be that simple. Alas it’s not. The music just doesn’t seem the same. Being sick for six weeks I am sure has very little to do with it. I believe that I was stuck before…no lame excuses. When I should hear a melody I hear up and down motions. Where I should hear a song I hear picking. By no count am I an advanced guitar player. I am skilled at noodling, if you will.

The officers (I got distracted)

There are two officers sitting on the patio of Starbucks. One is rather handsome, young, wearing a swat team uniform and dark sunglasses. He is very cool. The other an older gray haired man with…….a mustache. I’m laughing thinking only move into the century bro. I smile wider completely content with that thought. I just think they look ridiculous, CHIPS. The older man rubs his nose a lot. I think the little hairs must tickle. I’m guessing in his fifties, and despite the mustache he’s good looking as well.

Im am with great intent trying to listen to their conversation, but its breezy today. The few words I catch, education, he screwed up, she was there. I suspect they are talking about there fellow officers. The younger uses hand gestures as a means of getting his youthful more idealistic points across. The older man with hands firmly placed on his lap points and shakes his finger as if scolding a small child. He believes himself the voice of reason. The man of experience even in this rather quiet city.

They have left and I am all alone out on the patio with only my own thoughts left to consider and back it to the previous dilemma. How do I find my way back to my guitar?

A friend and I started playing at the same time. I have not been a very good motivator these last few weeks. I was thinking,

1 Take some lessons
2 Order lessons for Mary Swartz @ guitarjamz.com

Those were the only two I came up with. Indecision also includes, picking, percussive rhythms, blues, country. Since I’m not very musically inclined to start with I can’t decided what type of music I want to play. My biggest dilemma is the ud uud uud uud. I hear the motion not the melody.

Sunny Day

There is nothing, at least nothing I can think of that measures up to rain. It has rained for two days here in SoCal. and what once was dry in need of water now flourishes with life. Because of the rain I have not been out in my vegetable garden, so this morning was truly amazing. The dust of dryness is gone and the skies are clear. Each petal, each plant is awake….awaiting the morning sun, reaching towards the sky. The squash and zucchini flowers are brilliant yellow and have never looked bigger.

Whats reaches to me the most is the solitude; the peacefulness, quiet. Each plant speaks volumes of what it will do for my life. How it will change my life. How the flavors will inspire my cooking and my soul.

The morning

What hour of the day would you like to spend the rest of your life?

The answer is simple for me. The first hour when I wake up. I open my eyes, scurry down the stairs to have a cup of coffee on the front porch with my husband no matter how cold or hot it is. My feet are always bare and the freshness of the day is new and untainted. Everything is in place my guitars by my desk, my treadmill down stairs, and my iPad in hand. Its a new beginning. A fresh start to all the crap that happened the day before. You can do a whole bunch of things in that hour or you can just enjoy your coffee. Either way I love waking up and not because I’m not dead but because its like a new life. Its new, fresh, never happened before except for yesterday. It cant be explained. It just is. A moment that repeats itself over and over and over. Never changing and never the same. Its the little things like the amount of sugar in your coffee or the cup in your hand that makes it different. Amazing I just have no words for it. The rest of the day is always tainted with responsibility. Things we don’t always want to do. People we feel obligated to be nice to and places we have to go or not go because of one thing or another. the trouble with the rest of the day is that it’s just trouble. Its complicated, messy. The morning is always simple.

Blogs

I read so many blogs tonight from all over the United States. I really search out the most unread blogs and found so much life that was incredible. Kids typing to make sense of there life. Parents trying to find the right way to raise there children. People dealing with everyday life. We hangout in our own little world most of the time and forget that there are millions of others that are just like us. They deal with the same thing. The work for the same things. The one thing that makes us all unique is that we perceive the world differently. A simple tree can represent so many things. Things I would never even think of.