Independence






Senore' Banana

Sole Purpose

Today I'm setting it all aside, putting on my flip flops and walking out into the world for the sole purpose of stirring up a little fun.    

I hereby commit to this. 

Flip-flop

Well behaved women rarely make history." -Laurel Thatcher Birch

Wilson

'Lo and behold, I have my very own Wilson. 

He floated by the lake house dock on Sunday night.   He was immediately scooped up and his arrival has been well received.  

It's Wilson, the pups and myself through Thursday evening when "S" returns along with friends for the holiday.  I am using this time to knock out the last bits of a project agreement for work (which I plan to wrap up today) and then taking the next two days to quietly recharge.  

There are limited distractions at this lakeside hideaway. It becomes a bit like Walden pond during the week.  Very serene with  limited sightings of boats or people.  The perfect setting to take a  deep breath (or three).    

Wilson has given the thumb's up on the upcoming survival plan:

Curl up with a book (immerse myself in someone elses life for awhile).

Exercise (ride bike and swim). 

Let any worry or concern sit quietly in a corner.

Sing a harmony (this usually occurs while cooking.).

Start a photographic series (the words "Local Color" keep coming to mind as I drive around town).

Wear my favorite straw hat (its shape is crooked and bent which lends itself to feelings of immense happiness while wearing).

Place the watch in a drawer. 

Slow my mind.

Turn the computer off and go outside and feel the sun.

Take 6 more deep breaths and replenish.    

Wilson      

   

Today's Menu

Live on Cloud 9.     

Let your inner child play. 

Disturb the universe.

Open a new box.

Sing barefoot. 

 Classic    

June Nights






LePups






The Tide

I am open. 

I don't think I have ever been this open before in my life.

I mean that.

There have been a lot of conversations around our house of late about the here, the now, the future.  Will we have a baby?  We will not?  I imagine in a few months if we are not blessed with the news of a baby, you will see us change course.  

This other direction centers around two more years in Houston and at the beginning of the third, taking a year (or more) off to travel in and outside the U.S.   We'll have a base camp somewhere besides Houston (possibly the lake house).  The bulk of our belongings will go into storage, excess baggage will be tossed, time will be spent experiencing life in a completely different way.    We will plug back into a new city after traveling (there are a few on the list) but, the idea is to see what bubbles to the surface for each of us and for the separate entity known as "us" and let those current unknowns guide us at the time.   Of course, none of this is set in stone (that's the best part about being open) other then to continue to experience as many new things as possible and live life to its fullest--in whatever shape, size or form it comes in. 

If we are blessed with a baby, we will be thrilled beyond words and the next chapter will read differently.  Greater responsibility, a bigger house, more stuff (can't be helped) and a beautiful, beautiful being that lights up our hearts and who's life and love is the adventure.  

The thing about trying to have a baby is that you have no control over it so you have to turn it over to God, Fate, the Universe.  But, I trust in this and the answer we receive.  

I'm open to the  magic of these two very different extremes and the love, the lessons, the opportunities, the chance to give and grow that each will bring.   

P.S.  This whole being open to life, yourself and others thing is worth trying.  It's very peaceful.

Dockwater

We live on the edge of the miraculous every minute of our lives. The miracle is in us, and it blossoms forth the moment we lay ourselves open to it. The miracle of miracles is the stubbornness with which men refuse to open themselves up. Our whole life seems to be nothing more but a frantic effort to evade that which is constantly in our grasp.

-Henry Miller