spc: these feet were made fer walkin'

this month's self-portrait challenge is about enclosed spaces.
(marigoldie, click here.)

aging is like being in a small space.

i keep saying "i am forty"
to make it real.
cuz i feel like i am
way behind in maturity
in comparison to where
i am "supposed to be".

so...i sat, looking at my dirty, dusty feet
while at the philly folk festival.
and thought of all the places
they have taken me over the years.
taking my first steps.
pedaling my first two-wheeler.
walking to my first day of kindergarten
and home with my brother.
countless teen dances where i
kissed a boy for the first time.
wearing character shoes for all
of the plays and shows i performed in.
years of working in retail, standing for hours.
bar-hopping in my twenties.
sailing for the first time
(and almost barfing) to catalina
with my big brother.
waiting tables to get through school.
walking everywhere for the five years that i didn't own a car.
running. running. running.
jumping rope with the shorties.
walking down the aisle at my wedding to
marry the most wonderful-man-in-the-world.
standing all day in a classroom.
camping and hiking
and biking and photographing
and marching and skipping
and twirling
and
and
and...

these feet are going to take me through the next half of my life.
and that half is going to rock even more than the first.

crossing over

this is the last post
of my thirties.

paul and i are leaving
after i publish this
to go camping until
sunday.
the day i turn four-oh.

we will be at the
philly folk festival
listening to amazing
music 24 hours a day,
on-stage and in
the campground.

i will return
older
wiser
and maybe a
little hung-over...

until then, my peeps.
until then.

hee...

self-portrait challenge: stairs

i hate stairwells.
not because i'm lazy.
because i fear them.

when i am going up a flight,
i always feel like someone/thing
is behind me
chasing me
out to get me
and pull me downdowndown
into some bottomless black hole.
or
on open stairs,
i feel like someone
is under them and
will reach out and grab my foot
and i will pass out from fear
and wake up in a dungeon somewhere.

i have always had this fear.

when i was little, i would stand
at the top of our stairs in the
middle of the night,
on my way to the bathroom.
i would be
paralyzed with the knowing
that some snarling, hairy monster
was going to run up and
grab me and carry me into
the darkness and gobble me up.
seriously, i would stand there,
motionless. not wanting
to give myself away.
it would take all of my courage to run
to the bathroom door and pass the
top step of the hollow blackness
that went to the first floor of our house.

and i still shake a bit when i have
to come up the basement steps after
throwing a load of laundry in.
always looking behind me
over my shoulder
just to make sure.


this month's challenge is: small spaces.
find more self portraits here.

end-of-the-week thankfulness

i flew into charm city yesterday.
back to the land of old bay seasoning
and the town where everyone calls you "hon".

i am home.

i am thankful for so much.
i have just spent the last three weeks roadtrippin'
across very beautiful parts of our country.

i am grateful for the adventurous
memories made on the drive
through appalachian country with my
sweet friend, shelley/thelma,
who now lives in houston.

i am fortunate to have visited with family
and, together, inhale yummy memphis barbecue,
crazygood texas tamales and local beer.

i am thankful to have filled my lungs
with the clean desert arizona air
and to have seen the saguaros of tucson.
i am grateful to have feasted on the best fish tacos and posole
i have ever had with
my dear friend, keno.

today, i attended the baptism of our
neighbor's triplets on this glorious morning.
i walked the whole way to the church
with my other neighbor, carol.
it was 75 degrees and breezy.

paul and i grooved out on the best
tomato sandwiches for dinner.
(hooray for summer tomatoes!)
ciabatta bread rubbed with garlic
and layered with yellow and red slices.

i will sleep in my own bed
next to my cutie-pahtootie
and our toe-biting cat.

tomorrow, i begin the last week of my thirties, ya'll.
seven days until i am the big four-oh.
(but that is a whole 'nother entry.)

peace out.

spc: roadtrippin' on highway 10

the self portrait challenge
this month is: small spaces
so i thought it appropriate
to write about my
current roadtrip and being
trapped in a car for what seemed like
forever.

my dear friend, keno
and i left houston on sunday afternoon.
we gassed up trigger,
our trusty steed,
and headed west on highway 10.

armoured with
ample snackage
(two thermoses filled with
strong coffee, scones, cookies,
hot cheetos, salt and pepper chips,
bananas, breakfast burritos, popcorn,
pellegrino, spring water, and diet dr. pepper),
we began our 16 hour, 1065 mile voyage.

somewhere after san antonio
we switched seats.
"if you see a critter," advised keno,
"and you can't swerve to miss it,
then just hit it."

what?

"you know...just don't flip us.
don't freak out and go off the road,"
he explained.
"it is better to dent trigger then to be
upside down, skidding across the empty
desert highway..."

i nodded in agreement.
my eyes peeled, i sped down the road.
not even one mile into my navigation,
i spotted a deer carcass.
(much more than a dear-smear).
i screamed, and held onto the wheel tightly
as i realized i was going to have to straddle the
bloody mess with the tires.

"good job! you handled that well!"
encouraged my nervous friend.

my heart was racing and we were still
in one piece. whew...
i sped ahead.

"what the hell is THAT?!"
i could only switch to the lane that
the big, grey, needley-furred looking beast
was facing.
"please don't run in front of me..." i pleaded.
my stomache flipping, i stared at the critter
that stood on the yellow line.
i drove right by its nose.
"i think...i think...now i know this sounds crazy...
but i think that was a wild boar!" i stated.

then we started laughing.
hard.

laughing nervously.
laughing at the surrealness of it all.
laughing with relief that we didn't smear it across the highway.

bunnies. hundreds of bunnies.
whole gangs of 'em
watched us from the roadside
as we sped across texas.
into new mexico.
and, finally into arizona.

the sun came up as we deliriously
drove into tucson.
past the yucca trees and cactus.
sleep deprived, we arrived at our hotel
and parked trigger.
finally, we were free to roam
about with our own two feet.

i am in the land of cactus, ya'll.
a whole 'nother world from baltimore.
i'll keep my eyes peeled for rattlesnakes
and keep ya'll posted.

deep in the heart

i am officially, once again,
a teacher on vacation.

i left two tuesdays ago
to drive the miles between
baltimore and houston.
my good friend, shelley,
will be teaching in texas now
and i volunteered
to take the road trip with her.
(and her dog and cat and fish!).
we stopped in memphis for some
delicious barbeque and
hugs from relatives.
arriving in houston,
her parents welcomed us with
smiles and margaritas (yum!).
another cousin and her lovely family
treated us to mexican food
(and more margaritas!) and
stories from all years that have passed since
we last spoke.

i drove to euless and reunited with
my aunt and uncle and cousins,
and ate more mexican food
(and beer!).

today i leave the lone-star state;
the big, rambling state where
most of my dad's family lives.

i was here eighteen years ago
when he died.
i came for the funeral and
once again the summer after that.
i hadn't been back since.

life went on.
i lost touch living my northeast existence.

over the last week,
i have connected with cousins and aunts and uncles
who have opened their homes
and arms wide to me.

i have discussed the history
of my ancestors and have
attempted to catch up
on all the happenings of
our clan.

so interesting to see the
faces that look like mine
and click with the personalities
and characteristics that are from
the same recipe that i am made, too.

it has been a wonderfully full week.
i am exhausted from all the goodness.
reflectively sorry that i let so much time go by.

so goodbye to the state
where the stars shine bright(ly)
late at night.

mmm hmmm...you know the song.

i will write more when i get to arizona.
yippe-i-kay-oh! ridin' west we go!