On Being a Late Bloomer

Truth be told.
I am a very late bloomer.
I wish someone had told me
you can make a living in
unconventional ways-and most
importantly-its okay.

 Frank Sinatra That's Life

I wish I'd stuck with
waiting tables, one of my favorite jobs,
maybe Monday to Friday with
weekends off.  It wouldn't
have been a long career because
my body failed me.

Trusting my art.
Teaching the at-risk
teenagers, I still love.

In my head, a reoccurring
theme developed.  You require
insurance and a safety net.
Plus the pang to have children
started young, a loud BEATING
drum.
 
Nothing academic just
BOOM BOOM BOOM.

 

Who I was at 15 is who
I am today.  My life  is
composed of a collection of 
the same things.
Jesus, saints, the holy ghost,
pumpkins, kale, a pink kitchen,
Birkenstock, embroidery (I like my grandmother's
embroidery, thank you), cross stitch,
canvas bags,
hanging clothes on the line,
gardening, granny crafts (way
before there was granny chic),
second hand (vintage),
handmade, libraries, street fairs,
comfort food, terracotta pots
filled with herbs, cottages, chickens and
kitties.

No evolution here.
The only thing different
is all the things defining
me are now popular.

Exiting the Toxic

Clear the air.
Toxic environments take their toll.
Turn the tide.

Time to seek miracles.
Set time aside to create. 
Touch a bit of dirt everyday.
Sing on the way to work.
Laugh all the way home.
    

Solana Succulents

Plan for a miracle.

Remembering Mericia

Happy Birthday, Mericia.
Oh, to have been blessed by grace.

My own understanding wasn't broad
enough to accept the witnessing of grace.
Grace: what we receive but don't deserve.

My oldest sister was one month shy of her 45th
birthday when she passed away.  It has been
over twenty years, still I recall the blue
of her soulful eyes, the depth of her faith, and
the strength of her will.

Our family: Mother and Prima Texeira. Mericia (in bandana), Dulce.
Joe, me and my other brother, Ilidio.  Rare occasion when all the
siblings were together. 

Mericia, in the middle in blue. 

What a beauty.


My witness of her silent suffering,
built strength and resolve in my heart.
I knew if confronted with my own pain and suffering
I would want to stand as a testament as she did.

Missing you today.
May you continue to rest in peace my
beloved.  

September: A Door to Favorite Seasons

From September 1 on out through Epiphany
is my most favorite time of the year.

All of it every last bit.
Colors, cool weather, gatherings,
tasty desserts, and hearty meals.
A home full of holiday scents.

Pumpkins, fall colored pansies.
Harvests and feasts.
A road trip or two.  (There are
two planned already.)

School breaks.
Poinsettias.
Crafts.
Cozy family evenings.
Vintage Christmas.

 

Crafty Crack

It's true Pinterest  and etsy are my crack.
I can while away the hours.  The stress
dissipates. the inspiration flows, and
while my mind is preoccupied there is
NO pain, none. How's that for medicine?

The same thing happens when we
thrift.   It is the thrill of the hunt.
The only difference is eventually
my pathetic body will succumb to pain.
I am unlikely to give up, not until Mr.
Lee notices I am dragging my right
leg.

Totally worth it.

Mr. Lee says I have enough Pyrex.  Eye candy anyone?

How cute is this lamp?

A dinette for Uncle Joe.

Creepy squirrel, I would have nightmares.

Mushrooms are so 70s and remind me of my mother's kitchen.

That B, really did have everything.

All these things stayed in the shop 

The Angry voice of a Soul

My soul is hoarse from screaming this week.
Barricade after barricade.  Scary, Scooby
Doo, turn back signs at forks in the road.
My mind takes over, I tell myself, you are an immigrant,
not even first generation.

I want my soul to shut up.
I love my life. Shut up already.
Don't tell me, I need to live my purpose.
Don't tell me, I am wasting my God given talent.
Please please let me be satisfied.
Please please stop calling me.

Here is how the theme presented itself this week.
It's only Ash Wednesday, the beginning of the Lenten
season. Time for sacrifice, reflection and prayer. 

Song of Solomon 3:4
The watchmen who make the rounds in the city found me,
And I said, 'Have you seen him whom my soul loves?'
4"Scarcely had I left them When I found him whom my soul loves;
 I held on to him and would not let him go
Until I had brought him to my mother's house,
And into the room of her who conceived me."

Really, the one my soul loves?  Words with depth of
meaning, so romantic and powerful they bring tears to
my eyes.  I have prayed for the Lord to stand down,
to allow me to enjoy my standard unexceptional, but
wonderfully blessed life.
To allow me to not to heed His call.

Then this: lissa rankin MD clink on the link to read
her post on "Are you overriding your soul with
should?"  Yes, everyday I override my soul with
should.  Even if I turn a deaf ear, my soul sends out
messages, brings people to me, has me turn the radio
dial, and stirs trouble.  I don't believe in coincidences. 

All I ever wanted out of life was to have a family,
have a job (not career), and create art.  There were only two
vocations I dreamed about: acting and teaching.
All the naysayers discouragement was enough.

Being called to vocation is not enough.
You must have courage to listen to your soul.
Is yours talking to you, mine is hammering in my
head and heart relentlessly.

It is  dissatisfaction, is it  fatigue plaguing you,
is it the dread of Monday on Sunday evenings or
is like me, a constant tap tap tap?

Seattle Compare and Contrast

In Southern California the car is king.
Don't even think about stepping off the curb
without looking.  In Seattle pedestrians are king.
They are everywhere, they wear
primarily dark colors and step off the curb without a care,
right into the path of traffic.  Yikes.

South Lake Union Trolley (S.L.U.T.)

In Seattle the population is primarily represented by
Caucasian and Asian,
in Southern California diversity is king.
Nearly every language and culture represented.
This makes for variety of food and art. In either case,
there is wonderful food to be found.

Parking in Seattle is insane it simply doesn't
exist.  Public transit, however, is every where.
The disabled population seems non-existent and
with the exception of a few disabled parking
spaces.  I found the population in Seattle, unprepared
to cope with a little woman barreling toward
them with a cane.   

In the Barnes and Noble a man nearly knocked over a display
to avoid getting too close to me.  It may be catching. 

The ladies at The Sock Monster were amazingly kind and
helpful. Giving us pointers on visiting Seattle. 

In Southern California everything moves quickly.
When traffic is flowing at top speeds of  90 mph
with norm speeds running at 75 mph. In Seattle,
every lane seems to move at a steady pace of 65 mph.

In Seattle, 15 minutes takes you a long way
out of the neighborhood, while in So Cal 15 minutes
barely moves you out of your parking spot. 

Pike's Place kept Mr. Lee entertained each day while
I attended training.

The famous Seattle Gum Wall.

Potty mosaic.

Entertaining notes. 

Top Pot

Tastiest doughnuts, EVER.

Treats for a tasty midnight snack.

Fresh cheese.

Lovely shops.

Eye candy.

Bella Umbrella

Good eats of all varieties.
Molly Moon's Homemade Ice Cream Shop.

Delightful staff, delicious coffee, incredible pie, and they
offer baking class. Swoon, if only we lived near.
Pie stands.