Morning Air

A blue heron soars above the surface of the lake
egrets and ibises dot the water's edge and
an ibis launches, chasing the heron
two birds fly overhead in tandem
I have no chance to see what type of birds
they are fast but they are the same
and their shape and color resemble kites
Across the lake an egret lifts off
from a branch in the cypress dome
and flies right toward my kitchen window
turning suddenly and sweeping back around the lake

I feel like I am looking into rather than out at

The sun is beginning to rise over the trees
lighting their broccoli tops and reflecting
them down onto the glassy lake
their skinny brown stalks in the shadow
Two ripples appear down below
never breaking the surface or
making an appearance
just circles expanding outward

There's an airshow
two egrets fly in a playful chase
landing lakeside in the wispy grass
they flutter about and retreat
high into the preserve
More blue herons soar, three or four
from front of the lake to the back
and the side of the lake to the tree tops
I sip my coffee and nibble on zucchini bread
from the best seat in the house
the one in front of the window.

Red Lobster in Some Town

I could feel her looking at me. You know the feeling. When you're not even looking, but you don't need to, because you know someone is staring right at you. I looked over the partition, separating my  booth from theirs. Yes, I was alone and she had a companion. She quickly looked away, trying to appear nonchalant. She was so transparent. I turned back to my meal and continued eating while her stare bored into me once again. I looked over, she looked away barely in time to avoid eye contact. We repeated this visual cat-and-mouse several times. Did she think I didn't notice her? She was either uncouth or dumb, because next I heard her dogging my meal choice to her companion. I'm not sure if she didn't realize I could hear, or if she just didn't care. I was alone and there was no talking at my table. Maybe it gave her a false sense of insulation.

"Uh, there's so much work." Her hands were flailing as she spoke. "Pulling and cracking and working. I don't know how people order..." She was talking about my crab legs. So fucking rude. Did she not realize I could hear her? I wiped my hands and my face with the napkin from my lap, and I stood up, looking in her direction. I waited for her to look back. And when she did, this time I looked right at her instead of turning away uncomfortably...

You want to know why I ordered them? Maybe it's because Red Lobster sucks and I'm only here because the only other choices in this shit town are fast food. Maybe it's because fried popcorn shrimp and dishes that all have "feast" in their names are not my idea of an enjoyable meal. Maybe a meal that's an activity is a way to kill a little time during a lonely dinner on the road. Maybe ordering crab legs was the only way I could keep myself from inhaling the unnecessary basket of four cheddar biscuits brought to my table for one. Maybe, just maybe, things worth having are worth working for.

I snickered to myself as I placed the napkin on the table and walked to the restroom to wash up. I glanced back at her thinking, "If only."

Sheltered

This is a response to an invitation to write posted by a friend of mine on her own blog. The idea was for those of us who are coming out of the chaos of Irma, to heal through writing.

Sheltered
By Laurie J. Kemp

In the final hours, two back-to-back advisories warned:
she's coming west and we were ready, but we evacuated
because we had somewhere else to go. Now we were home,
the day after with power and internet, no flooding or damage.
We were lucky, but so many others around us were not.
I couldn't understand how it was possible. I couldn't sleep
for three days, and I remembered what I learned about
secondary trauma. I did everything I could to open up my home,
providing hot showers, cold a/c, and a place for my friends
and family to sleep comfortably and do laundry. It wasn't enough.
I signed up with the Red Cross, volunteered at a local shelter
handing out snacks, serving meals, and keeping strangers company.
A Veteran told me how funny it was to see two volunteers taking
photos of MRE's, and he asked me if I knew what they were
and if I ever had one. I would be lucky if I could get my hands
on the beef stew, but the spaghetti and meatballs was pretty good.
I helped an elderly woman who didn't know how to operate
a computer to apply for FEMA assistance. I asked a World War II
Vet if I could get him anything, and he shook his head and said
he was amazed at the greed. He was dismayed by the young people
returning to the snack table multiple times for Oreos and Doritos
and Pringles and granola bars. They're just hungry, I thought.
And bored. I handed out lunch of ham and cheese sandwiches
and chips and bottles of room temperature Gatorade,
and they said God Bless You. Can you imagine?
They were blessing me. With nowhere to go, no family
or friends to take them in through the storm, this
was their last resort, and they were gracious and thankful.
I am blessed, and I am sheltered.

To volunteer or make a donation,
please click the Red Cross logo.

Prayer

My home.

The house we recently built, 

the community we have come to love.

The schools and hospitals

the businesses and the restaurants.

My community.

The beautiful green spaces,

the parks and the gardens.

The slough and the sanctuary,

the gifts of Mother Nature.

My friends.

The circles we have formed,

the camaraderie we enjoy,

The support and the love

the fun and the sharing.

My family.

The separation across miles.

the east and the west,

The north and the south 

the web of love that connects us.

May the grace of G-d be stronger than the fierceness of Irma.

May we be joined in love, wrapped in support and comfort.

May we live long and strong and build again what we stand to lose.

Little Moments #4: You'll See...

We all have them. Those memories of our moms just being moms, and thinking I'll never be like this or I'll never do this to my own kids. Then at the drop of a hat, a snap of the fingers, a blink of an eye, you are like this and you do it to your own kids. Because that's what good moms do.

I had one of these classic moments last night and into this morning. My son, now a freshman in college (oy, I still can't believe it) and I exchanged texts last night. He reached out first to ask me about some things he needed for his dorm. Trying not to (s)mother him, I try to wait until I hear from him to ask a question I want to know the answer to. This time it was about food, of course. I wanted to make sure he was eating. I can't help it. Jewish mom, ya know. Here was the exchange:

This morning, I couldn't help myself. I knew my mom would be laughing out loud if she could be a fly on the wall, and who am I to rob her of such joy? I sent her this very screen shot (above) of my conversation with my son. This is what I got in return:

I love sharing this kind of laughter with my mom. We'll forever share the bond of being two links in the same parent-child chain of love. I know how much joy she gets hearing from me about what a good mom she is. And she is. Stellar. I'm proud to be like her in any way I am. 

I live for little moments like this.

Little Moments #3: The Best PB &J

Have you ever seen the movie St. Elmo's Fire? If you are a child of the 80's, and I am, you have likely seen it more times than you can count. I know I have. There's a scene in the second half of the movie, towards the end with Mare Winningham (Wendy) and Rob Lowe (Billy). They are in Wendy's new apartment and she's describing the almost euphoric feeling of having her own place for the first time. She tells Billy she hate woke up in the middle of the night and made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She said it was the very best PB & J sandwich she ever had, because she made it there in her kitchen in her her very own apartment.

I was going to include a clip here, but the only one I can find of the scene is a poorly recorded video someone made on their phone, of the TV playing the movie.

This is how I felt eating fajitas with my husband on Sunday night, August 13, 2017. It was the first meal I cooked in my beautiful kitchen in my brand new house. I enjoyed cooking and even more, I enjoyed eating those fajitas at the dining room table, with my husband to my right, and my beautiful kitchen with my huge window looking out to the lake, all right in front of me. Best fajitas I ever had. I live for little moments like this.

A New Idea: Little Moments

Brad Paisley has a song called “Little Moments.” It’s a love song and the verses describe the every day moments we smile about, perhaps take for granted.  The lyrics of the chorus are, I live for little moments like that…

I’ve been on the road, getting my son ready for college, busy closing on my house and moving. I knew the next couple of weeks were going to be challenging, and difficult to keep up with writing. But I made a commitment to myself that I would write at least 3 times, and I’m running out of days! Yesterday, I had one of those little moments, and then I rememebered I had one of those little moments on the road too, and I got to thinking. If I jotted down some of these little moments I could accomplish a whole host of things; like keeping my commitment to write even if only a view words briefly and capturing these moments for possible future writing. Most importantly though, it would help me with gratitude, reminding me about the so many things in my life I can be grateful for.

Here are the first two of my (maybe new series?) little moments.

August 7, 2017 between 4:00 and 5:00 pm.

I was driving from Fort Myers to Orlando to spend two days at PACE Orange. My friends at Enterprise had given me a loaded Maxima, and it had great pick-up and a great stereo system. As usual, my iphone was plugged in for tunes, and I was jamming out. Across the sky in front of me there was a hazy mist. It was difficult to tell if it was fog or rain in the distance, but soon a faint rainbow started to appear. All of this, just as the song “Life in Color,” by One Republic came up in my shuffled playlist. It was just one of those moments.

Its hard to see, and now I can see it was actually a double rainbow! I was driving while I took this, shhh.

August 10, 2017 approximately 7:30 am.

My husband and I were talking amongst the cluttered living room. He had to meet the site manager at the house one last time before we went to the closing at 10. I was sitting on the love seat drinking my coffee, and Jacob came to the top of the stairs looking down over me with sleepy eyes. After we exchanged good mornings, he came down, plopped down on the loveseat next to me, and leaned over putting his head on my chest. He sat with me there for quite some time, like he did almost daily when he was little. These days it doesn’t happen very often. I get I love yous and hugs and even kisses, but cuddles are a bit of a rarity at this point. Shirtless from being in bed, I placed my arm around him and lightly rubbed the youthful soft skin on his back. It reminded me how quickly I went from Mommy to Mom. I love those flashback moments.