Friday, December 4, 2009

The Art of Doing Nothing

It's a Friday night, 8:29 pm and I'm home. Writing a blog post. (this one... :-) ) I had a kind of quietly busy day. Went to my morning meeting at 7:30 a.m.; chatted with a friend outside of Starbucks for a few minutes. Went to the gym from 8:45 to 10:45 and then to workout with Armando at 12:00. (I sure do exercise alot. Just underneath this stubborn layer of pernicious fat is a very toned, fit and strong body...) Went to Stop & Shop, called Matt at Anchor Travel to get Martha's tickets home for Christmas break. Took a bath. At 3:00 I went back to New Haven to meet a friend. I texted her when I arrived at the entrance to her building. She walked across the marble floor in bare feet and opened the door for me. In the lobby, there was a huge Christmas tree, a real one, beautifully decorated and with that great aroma of Christmas tree. So pretty. So sweet smelling. I couldn't believe it was a real tree. I turned and went back to touch it, and it was. Wow. So nice.
We went into her place and sat on the couch with our feet up on the coffee table and chatted. Jobs, books, writing, friends, family, holidays, food... I guess with some people, you just have alot to talk about. She fed the cat. Put away her dry cleaning. We went to Shaw's on Whalley Ave. to pick up groceries. She doesn't have a car, so sometimes when I'm in town, we'll do errands together. I excel at this. I am perhaps the premier errand runner on the East Coast at this time. She bought the things that are hard to carry when you have to walk... heavy things... drinks in bottles, jars of tomato sauce, some vegetables, some cheese... We packed it in the car and headed back into the city. I sat on the couch while she put the groceries away. She came back and sat on the couch and put her feet up on the table. Dark red nail polish, but not too dark. Not like blood. More like raspberry I guess. It looked nice. We chatted awhile longer and I stood up to head home. She walked me to the door. I drove home. Made myself a ham and cheese sandwich for dinner. The boys had pasta. (I gave the rest of the turkey soup to the dogs. Really. Enough with the turkey already...)
It's been a pretty quiet Friday night.
I kinda like it that way.

Monday, November 16, 2009

Got My Buffalo, Got My Elephant...

I'm writing at my desk in the bedroom tonight. Don't usually do that, but I was just putting away some laundry and wandered over, intending to send an e-mail or two. Which I did. And then I just sat, looking for a few moments. Looking at my stuff. I do love me some stuff. Got lots of it. A person's stuff can tell you things. My stuff gives away little clues... where I've been, what I do, what I like...
On my right, there is a pen holder made of pewter. It is in the shape of a human body, seated crosslegged on a pillow, hands on knees, palms turned up. It's about 4 inches high. You lay the pen across the two open palms and it is held there by the silver figure whose face is featureless and tilted somewhat skyward. It holds that pen like something sacred. Which it is, sometimes. Next to the pen holder is a sphere of clear crystal on a small plastic stand. It's good for gazing into. It has one or two cracks and cloudy bits, but it's also beautifully clear. On the shelf above there is a small wooden box that smells like linseed oil. It has a brass clasp. The box is rectangle, six inches long, solid with five cylindrical holes drilled into it. In each hole is a small blue stone shape. Tetrahedron, hexahedron, octahedron, icosahedron, dodecahedron. It is a sacred geomety set. Listen to the inscription on the inside of the lid:
Sacred Geometry is an instrument of dialog between man and God, permitting us to find unity inside nature's diversity. It provides complete understanding and experience to consciously shape our future and accelerate the ascension process. They show us how to open our hearts and evolve the consciousness through models. A beautiful promise, eh? Complete understanding and experience. Pretty ambitious. I don't think I'm using them right. So far, my consciousness has evolved to this level: Huh. Look at those pretty blue stone shapes. And I like this box. I'll take it! My tarot cards are in another pretty box, and above them a book on mythic astrology. Yeah -- I don't know. Whatever that is. It's deep. And there are really cool symbols. I have seven glass vials containing the seven sacred oils of ancient Egypt... Spikenard, Palm, Lotus, Olibanum, Juniper, Myrrh, and Fo-Ti-Tieng. (I never heard of that last one either. Smells nice, though.) Underneath those, on another shelf, is my pocket pantheon of Egyptian gods. Isis, Osiris, Horus, Thoth, Anubis, Bastet and Sekhmet. Gods of creation, nature, magic, wisdom, the arts, death, healing, the sun, the sky, the elements... Lots to think about. Lots of gods out there. Lots of gods in here, too. (pointing to chest) And in here. (pointing to head)
There's my big natural crystal, my little painting of a ship, the ceramic statue of a head all mapped out like the chart for cuts of beef, only instead of things like Tenderloin, Porterhouse, Sirloin, Rib Eye, it says things like Language, Intuition, Music, Time... Where do they come up with this stuff? And why do I find it all so fascinating?
I have a viking, a gargoyle, three elephants and a buffalo. A Herkimer diamond. A box shaped like a treasure chest that holds postage stamps. A little dry erase board with a picture of a cup of tea at the top. You get the idea. It's just my stuff.
I like my stuff.
And it likes me.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Haiku, And I Mean It

My friend is in pain
I cannot fix the problem
But I can be here

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Soft Porn

Ok, for all you Cakelet readers who are craving something yummy? I invite you to visit www.armandoaversa.com and check out my personal trainer. And I am not even kidding. That guy? In the picture? He is my in-real-life personal trainer. Three times a week I get to sweat and pant with this spectacular specimen of the male physique. How lucky am I, right?

He is currently competing in a contest called, I kid you not, www.hottestbodintheworld.com
I am trying to help him in any way I can, because honestly? I love this guy. He is truly a wonderful person. He has me totally believing that I am going to reach my goal weight, and get my mojo back, and do all these things I've wanted to do for the past ten years and have failed to accomplish.

I'm down 28 lbs. since I started with him in March. He is really good at what he does. He is helping me succeed. He is helping me believe in myself again. That's an awesome gift. I am going to do whatever I can to help him back.

Please vote for Armando. If you're a blogger, and you want to share the love (and, let's be honest, the incredibly hot body) please put this link out there in cyberspace.

The contest is for a men's cologne called Body Heat Sexy x 2. If you go to the www.hottestbodintheworld.com link and click on 'see all' you will find Armando's picture there and you can vote for him and become a fan, if you are so inclined. To know which one is him, you'll have to check his page at www.armandoaversa.com

He's up against some pretty serious competition. Go check it out. And then, put a cool cloth on the back of your neck, or maybe take a cold shower. These guys are sizzling hot.

Have fun.

Oh, and you can vote once a day, so feel free to revisit as often as you want. I find it doesn't get old...

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Gotta Love Haiku

I find myself lost
But in such a gorgeous place
I might just stay lost

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Mental Pictures

I have a friend who's a good photographer. www.heatherlibermanphotography.com (Hi Heather! You reading this? I'm giving you props!) I wrote a descriptive piece awhile back about my Saint Bernard, standing in the snow and looking so noble and Saint Bernardly and Heather said "I wish you had taken a picture." But I'm not a camera person. I was, when the kids were younger -- but I'm not now.

I take mental pictures, though. (and Heather, might you be rolling your eyes right now?) I will concede that mental pictures do not always have the sharp clarity and high resolution of today's excellent digital photographic images. And mental images do fade over time, somewhat. They become a little vague.

Sometimes, I write them down.

So I'll remember.

I took a mental picture on Saturday. It was of my daughter Grace. She is 21, a senior at Boston University. We had been at a horse show in Holliston, MA, where the mighty B.U. Equestrian Team took 1st place overall and Grace, who was a point rider for that day, came in 1st in her event. Victory! Triumph! Glory! So fun to win! First place finishes don't happen all the time, no matter how good you are. They're always special. And you get to keep them forever. And they make you feel good.

After the show, we walked along Beacon Street towards Grace's apartment. I was carrying her riding jacket on its hanger and had her boot bag slung over my shoulder. She walked ahead of me a few steps, next to her dad. She was wearing her jodhpurs and boots, and carrying her helmet in her hands. In the helmet, just peeking over the edge, were the tips of the blue ribbon she had won earlier in the afternoon. The helmet also held an etched glass awarded to her from the Tufts riding team, who hosted the event. The glass was filled with candy, as it was the day of Halloween. There were lots of people (LOTS of people; like that Halloween spirit at B.U.!...) who were walking the streets in costumes. We saw several cowboys. (I suspect there may have been an All-Cowboy party going on somewhere. Either that or a huge sale on cowboy hats, kercheifs, and sheriff's stars...), we saw a few cats, some pirates, a milk carton ( who almost got run over. I don't think the visibility was too good inside there. But it was an excellent milk carton) As Grace walked along the sidewalk I saw one or two people give her a glance, appraising her "costume." And it made me smile. Because even though riding outfits make for pretty decent Halloween dress-up clothes... she wasn't pretending. She's the real deal.

And Grace? I am so proud of you. Not just for your mad riding skillz (or your mad driving skillz, or your mad tortoise-keeping skillz, or your mad penguin-feeding skillz) I am proud of you for the person you have become. I am proud of the way you live, and the decisions you have made, and the adventures that you have faced. I am proud of your awareness and your sensitivity. I am proud that you take good care of yourself, and that you treat people decently. I'm even proud that you're a little naughty from time to time. It's important to be balanced. :-)

I took a mental picture of you on Saturday.

It's a keeper.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

The Quote Garden

I love this site: www.quotegarden.com because I love words. Words, phrases, sentences, paragraphs... arranged in ways that bring comfort, or provoke thought, or empower.

Here's one that I wrote in my little black book:

A ship at harbor is safe -- but that's not what ships are for. --John Shedd

Right?

I'm hauling in my anchor; I'm setting my sails; I'm going on a voyage of discovery.

Because that's what ships are for.

And this ship has been in the harbor WAY too long.
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