Category Archives: questions

two pairs of shoes


“Fear filled days and a media haze …information was once king but it is now the new pawn pushed around to distract and disorientate.” Joe Callanan

“Can I handle the seasons of my life?” Fleetwood Mac – Landslide

 “I choose two pairs of shoes the exact same, one for the yard and one for town. That’s all I want”. Me

These are the thoughts lurking, floating around in my mind on this Sunday morning in “late September” (Rod Stewart). It’s somewhat of a mixed up medley, so, I wrote them all down and tried to find the sense in it all, the connection.

The first two are obviously about the unknown future and how it teeters on such a tiny ledge never revealing what’s about to happen. Joe Callanan is a friend of a friend of mine and I follow him on FB. He lives in Spain and has interesting points of view that I like to think about – he is straightforward and causes me to think past my boundaries as I enjoy the melodious flow of his transcendent words. I asked permission to use the above words of his because I believe them to be true. My dad used to tell us, “Don’t believe anything you hear and only half of what you see”. I always thought that was such a negative and cynical thought but now, at 62, I get it. The only adjustment I could make to his suggestion now, would be more emphasis about believing what we “see” – much more of life has become an illusion. Anyway, I am more and more turned off from the media and more and more convinced my dad was right. That leaves me in a bad spot when it comes to making choices, I seek the truth but I have about run out of places to look, hence my deep continued connection to Nature – she never deceives. We have more and more sources at our disposal and more and more ways to sway, not more and more ways to reveal the truth…we have taken the low road. It’s tough to find your true thoughts, propaganda hits us “Left “and “Right”.

“Make yourself sheep and the wolves will eat you”…another quote, this one from Ben Franklin. I hope we all make the decisions of our lives based on our own thoughts. That’s as close to political as I care to project…I just want to make up my own mind.

The Fleetwood quote whizzed out of the song on the radio the other day, a song I have heard again and again for decades but somehow, that time, those words were all I heard and that question needed an answer. When you are young, there are no seasons of your life – youth just goes on forever, it seems. Now, for me, there are seasons of my life. I see them and I answer Fleetwood’s question with “no”, I was not prepared. This lack of preparation was not a bad thing, however. How do you prepare for life?  I probably won’t be prepared for the next season either, but I do know now, while I may not be ready, I will be okay.

And the last thought about my shoes sort of wraps up the whole tangled riddle of mismatched thoughts by putting into words that I want as much simplicity as I can control, beginning with my shoes. I don’t want or need all of the superfluous commotion around me anymore. It’s a difficult battle, however, this battle for things to be simple. I am certainly not at a point to be without, I do like comforts and aesthetics but now, I like fewer “things”. Although, you would not believe that if you saw the accumulation of 31 years of life in this house that is our home, every wall is filled with paintings and every closet and attic is filled with yesterday. But, somewhere amongst it all, I find a metaphysical clearing that has not existed before this season of my life. It is a clearing that only I know of and it tells me that the accumulation has stopped, that I can just be and exist happily with so much less, hence, my two pairs of shoes, one for the yard and one for “town”.


questions answered…maybe

I wanted to post something today and I began a story about an owl I saw this evening but no “story” emerged, just a snapshot appeared. I write:

 I went for a short walk today, late in the afternoon but before evening. I walked across the field towards the little coulee that separates my space from a neighborhood and watched for the moon. I did not see it, this winter moon in its waning phase for the sky was cloudy and filtered its light, but as I stood there I heard a whoosh sound cutting the stillness. I looked up to see an owl in flight. It landed near where I stood in a tree – perched there and magnificent. I felt I didn’t belong there, this was his space, it is a place he had come to many times before when there were no people, no houses and concrete. He now seemed out of place and that made me sad.  Later, as I was writing, I heard him outside of my window. By then it was nighttime and he was hooting. There is something mysterious about that sound. It seems foreboding and ominous.

That’s it, that’s as far as I got. I distracted myself from the owl and began rummaging around in my folders and I came across something I wrote last summer – I may have already posted it but, that’s okay, I post again because now, unlike then, I can answer some of the questions. I suppose if we just allow our lives to progress as they should, we can find answers, but that’s not what we typically do, we force things to happen – patience is a virtue. Anyway, here it is, perhaps, again.


summer 2012
I couldn’t sleep past 5 am this morning even though my bedtime last night approached midnight. It’s good though, I have wanted to see the summer sunrise and hear the silence in my house and I did this morning. There is something special about the beginning of a day – the feeling of aloneness, a place to connect with yourself before the rattle of the day distracts you and you become the chameleon once again. I can see myself more clearly  and I can admit my fears and flaws  and I can get to know me a bit better here in the very early morning when the world is somewhere in the distant and I am “alone” in it. I set goals for myself in the quietness of this morning, simple things like starting a canvas I have already created in my head and packing away the childhood memories in Matt and Drew’s room and then more difficult things like completing  the unending book I began nearly a decade ago, a memoir about Miss Sue and another goal to untie a few more apron strings, to “let go” , to redefine my role as mom and view it more as a sideline “job” while , all the while, wearing my heart on the outside– this is tough after so many intense years of being in the middle of things but it’s rather restful also – less doing and more enjoying. This post is going nowhere…

 It’s nearly noon now and I have some reoccurring thought in my head. It’s about change, lifestyle change. I can’t maintain the appetite of my youth – I have to let a few things go before I get weighted down with age and upkeep. I think I will begin with the garden. I have been gardening in one capacity or another since I was 15; Miss Sue taught and inspired me then. I have, by early June, semi abandoned mine and as I look at it I realize it is like a child and needs a lot of attention if it is to blossom and reach its potential. As I look within myself I realize I am not willing to give it the time it needs, at least not now. I have discovered this wonderful place to give me compensation, however, the local Farmer’s Market. I will limit my garden next spring to a square root box containing tomatoes bell peppers and eggplant and maybe cucumbers. Done.


I am still debating about my chickens at this point. I really do enjoy the fresh eggs and do not trust anything in the supermarket so perhaps I will scale down my flock from 18 to just 4. This will have to take its natural course of course, for I do not cull chickens. From this bucolic scale down I propose and post, I hope to unveil time – time to paint, write, and leave, just for small excursions probably to visit my nomadic kids.

Then there is the question of this house – this huge great old house where I raised my family – what do I do? What do we do – us who have rooted ourselves in memories and a place and now want more flexible time and less domestic work; it seems a choice between sentiment and pragmatism – who wins? It’s a great place to accommodate my large family but nearly each day of the year, after Elizabeth leaves, it will be an oversized space for just two people. I do not want to be its slave nor do I want it to be my money pit – I can think of so many other places to throw money, places that make a contribution to someone. I am not prepared to answer this nagging question just now, I think more needs to unravel before I know the answer. I will just pay mind to the contents at this point and try to lighten the interior load and perhaps one day soon, I will know what to do with the rest.

Ok.There you have a fair portion of a summer day’s rambling – questions posed, few answered. Exhausting, but it does help to write it down.

b u

p s


There are no answers. We spend our lives asking questions but no one has been able to come up with the answer key. Minds far greater than mine have thought and pondered and died…never returning to let us know if they were right. I suppose that is why really old people, at least the ones that have been observant, are great sources of wisdom and while they don’t have “the answers”, they can make better assumptions. There are messages in their stories and lessons from their lives, but who even listens – youth is being carelessly spent on  worldly things.
 It can be so Shakespearean…
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
ok, this is deep and dark and Shakespeare is scary and tragic…I will take the antithesis of this projection and flood my day with light.

I have a lot of questions today; it is a day without a job, a day to be with my thoughts…here’s one I ask myself: 
 Not now, so, when?
b u
p s