Since my diagnosis with heart issues, I'm changing the way I'm approaching life. This is a page for ambling in the woods, vegan recipes, gardening, and finding new ways to live intentionally. Come on and join and give me your keys to ambling through life instead of crashing through it.
Sitting, wondering, when, if, we will turn the corner for a new time in our lives. Letting go one last time as one of us slips from that gentle touch of our finger tips.
Pour the first cup of the day into a random cup, from the French press. Drip the creamer in, don't stir. Sit on my spot on the couch with the TV on. Sip that first warm sip of the day.
When we moved to La Verne in the 60s the orange groves were still there. We had the best of times riding through them, eating the oranges, our orange fights, and hide and go seek. I know that is not what they were made for, but they were a great playground at the end of their lives.
It isn’t unreasonable to be wary of and often look to the sky in case a pterodactyl comes flying by to scoop me up and carry me off to feed me to her young.
My boys would be a bit embarrassed whenever we were stuck in line. I would always-always-strike up a conversation with a stranger. I can’t help it-other people are so interesting.
OK, we were a weird couple. Whenever we visited a new city we could seek out and visit the local library. Big or small library-it didn't matter. That would be our ideal date-a day at the library.
At the small bank I worked at I was the messenger, the mailman, and the morning donut retriever at the main branch. I would pick up the bags of morning mail at the Ontario Post Office, then pick up the dozen or so donuts for the break room. I delivered all the mail and interoffice/inter branch mail. I was the first one at the bank, and the last to leave, and I had a long lunch, so I would go home to my then newlywed wife. At the end of the day I went to the Post Office and drop off the mail.
The center of my city growing up in West Covina, in the shadow of Covina, was wherever we were, walking up Lark Ellen to go to a football game halftime at the high school, dropping my ice cream outside the 31 Flavors, buying caramel popcorn at the Eastland Center May Co, feeding my rabbit in my backyard on Stuart Ave.
Swim out beyond the waves, float on the undulating ocean, dive down, grab a handful of sand, watch it sift between my fingers, launch to the surface, breath free.
My first job in ‘73 downtown LA in the Union Bank vault when Mom had to work late for her accounting job at the bank I would walk to the mall below the twin towers. I'd pick up another volume of E. E. Cummings and wonder at the magic of his language.
Beverly Hills, not my favorite piece to work, I would cross Santa Monica Boulevard, and walk the neighborhood. Such a mixture of houses, old and new, I always wonder what the insides look like, each has a unique story to tell.
