sharpchick_2011: (Candle)
And I am blessed.

In the weeks following my resignation from my job, I made a discovery that really was so much a wake up call.

I really needed a break - time to winnow, contemplate, meditate.

Time to just be.

No matter what the future holds, I will always treasure this time that I am taking now. It feeds my soul.
Every day has its own rhythm.

Some days, I am deep into family history, and not just my own.

I have a dear friend who wants to know what happened to a sister and a brother, when each of them inexplicably "disappeared" from the family.

My heart hurts for him, because his childhood (and that of his surviving siblings) has left deep wounds in his soul. (If you read that blog entry, and have an idea you might have any information, please contact me.)

Other days, other bloggers' reactions to a family photo I've posted give me a reason for musing about a long dead relative.

And sometimes, the simple act of doing laundry brings back memories of my grandmother and a quilt she made for me.

Every day has its own richness.

The journey is good.

Namaste.
sharpchick_2011: (Troll)
We had a lovely soaking rain for about 24 hours, starting late yesterday morning.

So unusual for this time of year around these parts. Yesterday's high was 72 in the cottage garden. Quite drizzly. Last year on that date, our high was 103, and we were in the middle of a critical drought.

But yesterday, the universe gave me wonderful weather for planting my backside on the couch and catching up on reading.

Which I did.
Okay, now this lotus is just toying with me.

I have been watching this bud for over a week now.

It gets bigger, and the color deepens but there's no hint of it opening.

 photo lotusbud3this.jpg


I never understand ponders who post this kind of photo, and say something like...

Well, I declare! I had no idea there was a bud. That flower just crept up on me...

Do they not visit their ponds every day? If not, what's the point?

My pond is one of the little bitty pieces of nature entrusted to me that restores my soul.
And so this morning, one of the wees got bolder and came out with the grown-ups for the morning feed.

 photo goldsandbaby072713.jpg


He's (she? do not know - have not looked between the tiny little fins) a new one to me.

There are two other new-to-me wee ones also.

Which now brings us up to six.

And I fear that's really something like 36, or 76...

They do like their citrus.

 photo golds072713.jpg

The journey is good.

And full of all sorts of interesting surprises.

Namaste.
sharpchick_2011: (Romani q of s)
Planning major revisions to the aquascaping in all four tanks.

Plants will ship on Tuesday for Friday delivery to my door.

I'm taking off Friday at noon.
But this morning, I had water changes to do.

Betcha didn't know I was an aqua chemist.

 photo 100_3001.jpg


The bubbles on the tips of the cabomba are CO2. This is called pearling.

 photo 100_3004.jpg


Naturally, Dubya had to be in the photo, because he is...Dubya.
I love this piece of cholla with the marimo moss tied to it. But it just takes up too much real estate in the 20, 10 and nano, so I moved it to the goldfish tank.

 photo 100_3006.jpg


Where it looks like it will be stripped clean by Gypsy...

 photo 100_3008.jpg



Have been soaking some pieces of driftwood for each tank for two weeks in anticipation of the new scaping.

Today, I went ahead and tied the anubias in the goldfish tank to their driftwood, put it in the tank, and weighted it down with a rock.

 photo 100_3007.jpg

It takes about two hours to do water changes and maintenance on all the tanks.

There's a peacefulness about the process that makes it less like a chore. I check plants and fish. Gypsy bumps my hand constantly prompting me for food. (No, he doesn't get any...)
The journey is good.

Nature grounds me.

Now, for the real chores...

Namaste.
sharpchick_2011: (Romani q of s)
This sideroad on the journey - the one with the RSD - has turned, probably predictably, into a saga.

In which I pontificate... )
Every time I think things have toned down to a dull roar at work, I should know to get vigilant.

Because Something Will Happen.

Like the sexual assault - patient on patient - of a woman at ASH. A woman with developmental disabilities.

I am so tired of that kind of shit.

I don't care if it only happens every year or so.
The cottage felines have gotten used to having me in the house more often.

And the guys are getting positively canine-ish. They follow me around the house and settle within a few feet of me.

Bathroom included.

The female bettas in the community tank are as houseproud as Frick is.

Photobucket
You never know when a betta killer might
be disguised as a thermometer


The girls even brush against me - just curious, or asserting authority, I cannot tell yet - as I am vacuuming the tank when I do water changes.

The rasboras flee to the other side of the tank - in a shoal.
The journey is good.

Namaste.
sharpchick_2011: (Smite)
Seems the golfers and socker moms couldn't handle the flocks of Canada geese that made Burns Park their home for the last several years. They don't like bird poop.

So the North Little Rock City Council decided to waive that pesky no-discharging-firearms-in-the-city-limits ordinance and set a slaughter party for local hunters from December 20-22.

Uh oh.

Seems there were quite a few more folks who thought that was a bad idea. (Count me in.)

Some of those opposed set up a Facebook page.

Others - a whole bunch of them - wrote in, protesting the kill as inhumane. We are having a hard time seeing the horror in wildlife being attracted to a city park.

So North Little Rock Mayor Patrick Hays had a little change of heart. Last night, the City Council voted to "discuss alternatives to the hunt."
One of those alternatives could be the one chosen by the City of Little Rock to deal the flocks of geese at Rebsamen Park.

They use a herding dog, and report that it's quite effective.

So get this. Mayor Hays' City Parks Director says that's too expensive.

From the pages of Arkansas' only daily statewide newspaper today:
Having a dog at Burns Park would cost $3,000 to $6,000 a month.

Really?!? Do tell...

I have never, ever - regardless of breed - had a dog that cost me that much money.

North Little Rock has its own animal shelter - at Burns Park.

You do the math.

And the residents of North Little Rock ought to ask the Mayor and his erstwhile City Parks Director to do the same.
The journey is good.

But this irksome government math isn't.

Namaste.
sharpchick_2011: (Default)
But a really neat work thing happened today.

Not at work - as in, at the office.

I was working at home today on the same problem I've been working on since mid March this year.

But things are going according to schedule on that project.
So the really neat thing played out in text message.

A social worker I know sent me a text this morning, asking how he could get a jail to let a detainee come to the ER at UAMS on a doctor's order.

Okay - doc wants someone at the ER - must be pretty bad. Allrightythen, that one's a no-brainer.

So I replied to him.

Have the physician call the jail administrator and tell him the doc is sending an ambulance for the detainee.

He said okay, thanks.

Forty-five minutes later, I got another text from him saying, it worked! thanks.

Of course it worked.

I haven't been doing this for 23 years for nothing...
The journey is good.

Sometimes good shit happens.

Namaste.
sharpchick_2011: (Default)
Last night as I got ready for bed, I went through my usual routine, which includes turning off all lights in the cottage except the tiny little lamp next to the kitchen window.

I got up before the alarm went off this morning to visit the bathroom.

And was surprised when I opened my bedroom door and saw the bathroom light on. There's usually one explanation for that.

I have a dear friend who has gone to the other side who monkeys with the bathroom light to get my attention.

But not usually in the middle of the night.
I guess it's time to write this down.

This is a long one.
Sit back and get comfortable... )
The journey is good.

Namaste.
sharpchick_2011: (Default)
Something really cool is getting ready to happen - I can tell.

It will have something to do with my obsessive quest to document folks in my family tree.

I'm thinking probably the Williams, Baldings or Chapins.

The signs are too clear to dismiss.
For those of you who know what I'm talking about, this will be old hat.

And I am well aware that there are those of you who, if we met in person and I told you this, would plaster on that stiff, straight smile of the disbeliever who is just too damned polite to say, oh, bullshit, and would listen, but would also be looking out of the corner of your eye for a handy exit.

That's okay. I'm good with it. I've had my whole life to deal with disbelief.
In the wee small hours of Friday morning, I suddenly awoke.

I tried to figure out what woke me, so I listened carefully to see if the cottage felines were partying hearty and knocked something over.

All I could hear was silence.

I'm always reluctant to get out of bed and hunt down shit like that because 1) I have a hard time going back to sleep, and 2) at least two of the cats magically appear from where ever they were, circling my ankles and looking up at me, saying well yeah, since you're up, how about a treat? (Life must be at least a little bit of a bitch when you are born without opposable thumbs.)

I wandered out into the kitchen and living room, and looked around. Everything was in order. Stoney and Tig approached, whined, and got their treats.

I beat a hasty retreat back to bed before Emma could rouse and want treats too, which would mean treating Stoney and Tig again to keep them outta hers...
Friday morning when I got up for real, I wandered out to start my day. As I was pouring coffee and cat food, I noticed something just wasn't right.

Couldn't put my finger on it.

It wasn't until I walked by the living room gallery of dead relatives on my way to the den to feed the birds that I saw it.

Every single picture was tilted. The bottoms of all of them listed to the left.

After I fed the birds, I straightened all the pictures and contemplated that. The week before, I had taken two of them off the wall to get photos of them for the genealogy blog, and I considered that maybe I knocked all of them askew when I re-hung those two.

Uh uh. I am way too Type A to live with crooked portraits of the ancestors for a week or so. I am too Type A to let you do it, either.

So I called my next door neighbor and asked her if I had slept through a thunderstorm or a sonic boom.

No, she said...why do you ask?
She's one of the ones who gets *that look* on her face when I talk about this kind of stuff.

Except she wants to believe. I can tell. And I think she probably almost does, since she witnessed my haunted bathroom light switch. It's her brother that does that. He died in 2007.

One of my cousins got the straight, tight-lipped smile when I told her about my haunted coffee pots (plural, mind you, plugged into three different kitchen outlets) and my haunted computer printer.

Then, she had her own close encounter with the printer one day over here at the cottage, and now...she believes.
My ancestors have been giving me signs for years...

I think the first time I understood how important it was to take notice of the signs - even if I don't know what they mean in the moment - was the week long experience I had with clairaudience that began on October 9, 2006 and ended on October 13, 2006, never to be repeated again.

That one culminated in the suicide of a really, really sick man, who tried to kill his wife with a sword, got arrested and hanged himself in his jail cell, after being continuously denied bail because he kept telling the judge if he got out, he was going to go back and finish the job.

She swears I saved her life.

I say I just paid attention to the signs.
The portraits that were tilted on Friday morning tilted again on Friday night while I slept. Yesterday morning I straightened them all up again with a shit-eating grin on my face.

The journey is good.

There are signs along the way.

Namaste.

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