Monday, March 2, 2015

He Lived Long, And Prospered


So sad over the passing of this most talented and gracious human being. Or half human being in his iconic role as Spock. I can't say that I understood many of the plot lines or characters of Star Trek when I first viewed them as a child. But subsequent viewings as an adult helped me appreciate how groundbreaking the series was for its time. Seeing this video today left me filled with awe and joy. As if that's not enough, I was also not aware of a photography book that he published called The Full Body Project. It didn't sell very well but it made an impact on those who did peruse a copy. I just love this man more and more all the time.

Sunday, March 1, 2015

TigerCat


Yes, the Christmas decorations have long since been put away. Even this. But I forgot to post this sweet pic of Newton helping me with the lights. Since Newt is a cat, I use the word helping rather loosely. Cat code for help is impede. But just look at that cute little face!

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Beer Brains


It's Tuesday, which means trivia tonight. Please enjoy this preposterous pile of phones stacked in the middle of the table, a show of solidarity in the spirit of honest play. Meaning that no answers are arrived at by consulting the internets or calling/texting a friend. We rely strictly on our brains. Fueled by beer. 


Monday, February 23, 2015

Monday Poetry Corner

I have admitted before that I take too many internet quizzes. You know, to help peel away the layers and reveal my true personality. Some I have taken numerous times to see if there is a way to game them and get a preferred result. Often among the multiple choice answers there isn't one that accurately reflects my thoughts, giving the final result less validity. Okay, fine, not that there's a scrap of validity at stake here. This morning I took one that would reveal What Famous Poem Was Written About You, meaning me. I was expecting something dark and brooding, and instead I was surprised with a lovely poem by Emily Dickinson.

There Is Another Sky

There is another sky,
Ever serene and fair,
And there is another sunshine,
Though it be darkness there;
Never mind faded forests, Austin,
Never mind silent fields -
Here is a little forest,
Whose leaf is ever green;
Here is a brighter garden,
Where not a frost has been;
In its unfading flowers
I hear the bright bee hum:
Prithee, my brother,
Into my garden come!

This is what my choices revealed about me:

Optimistic, but not without a sense of pragmatism, you yearn for foreign lands and exotic tastes. The tides of fate and change thrill you as you surf their waves into the next phase of your life.

But enough about me. Take the test yourself and discover what poem was written about you. Then write your own.

Saturday, February 21, 2015

Tomato Heaven

I chose a luscious slice of an enormous home-grown tomato from the stack in front of the window. It was so huge I was holding it in both hands like a chunk of watermelon, chomping into it over the sink with juice running down my arms. It was wonderful. Then I woke up. While it is shivery February in the real world, it is late summer in my mind. I could smell that tomato. And the soft warm breeze drifting in through the open window. Cue up Seal & Crofts, please.
  

Friday, February 20, 2015

Say Cheese!


When I chose this photo for Throw Back Thursday, all I was l was looking for as I dug through the archive was a group pic of my family of origin. But the more I examine it, I think there's enough going on here to be the basis for a novel. So disparate are each of our expressions and poses it almost seems as if it was photoshopped together. Each of us has our own little story going on here. Mom in the center, all calm, composed and very pretty, and completely oblivious to little brother Cullen in her arms who appears distressed if not outright crying. Older brother Scott to the right, all GQ and nonchalant, his jacket rakishly pulled to one side by his pocketed hand. Darling little golden-haired Martine in front, squinting into the sun and waiting patiently for our father to take the picture already. Me to the left, a shy downcast grin, wearing my recently acquired pink cat-eye glasses. In our Sunday best, I think this may have been Easter. I don't recall attending church frequently, if at all when we lived in Denver, but this is most definitely the house on Victor Street. If frequent moves make anything easier, it would have to be identifying the date and location of childhood snapshots. The various yards and houses and furniture give practically every year its own distinct setting. Cullen's casual attire probably means that he is staying home with Dad while Mom whisks the older three of us off to Easter services. But first, let's get out the camera to capture the moment. I have no actual memory of this day in my eight year old life. I do remember Mom's red-striped dress as well as the Peter Pan-collared dresses Martine and I are wearing. I look back on this as an innocent time. Before any clues that my parents would eventually separate and divorce. All I likely knew on this spring day in 1965 was that I was wearing my favorite dress. That we would get home from church and hunt for the colored eggs Dad had hidden while we were gone. And that my new glasses made the world focused and bright again.