Oh, What a Beautiful Morning (May 31, 2010)

Two days ago the hubby and I hiked to the top of Cowles Mountain. It’s not very far from where we live, but far enough away that you only find yourself there with some planning. We hadn’t been up there together in at least five years. Something to do with the three-kid juggle. But our babysitter was available, and we realized it we didn’t do it then, it might be another year before it occurred to us!

There were plenty of other people who had the same idea. Hikers and trail runners scurried up and down the mountain as we arrived and I took the opportunity to people-watch. There were hikers of all ages and nationalities: preschool-aged kids on up to a grandma or two motoring down the trail. We passed college students, families, and solo hikers. Some had tattoos, some Ipods, and one man even wore flip-flops. Sometimes we exchanged hellos. A place like Cowles gives you the opportunity to share the land with others but also a chance to experience it at your own pace and through your own eyes. Everyone takes something different away from the experience.

We reached the top and took a few minutes to absorb the 360-degree view. The mountain’s peak is 1,592 feet above sea level, making it the city’s highest point. To the west I saw Point Loma, downtown and Mt. Soledad. To the south was bright blue Lake Murray and out east Mt. Helix stood tall. Filling in the gaps were what make up a city: roads, cars, trees, parks, schools and residential neighborhoods, all the pieces fitting together like a mosaic. The tidy rows of homes below in Del Cerro looked like Monopoly houses with their identical pitched roofs. Somehow it always gives me a sense of peace, looking down on the city. I notice how small the houses are in the grand scheme of things, and I’m reminded that my life (worries, frustrations and all) is just a teeny piece of something much larger than I am. The view from up high literally gives me a different perspective, and that’s a good thing.

When we weren’t gazing into the distance, we studied the wild flowers blooming just off the trail. We smelled wild sage, and touched flowers with petals the size of a pin head. There were car-sized boulders dotting the reddish-brown dirt and not one piece of litter. It seems Cowles’ hikers respect her.

We hiked on the Saturday before Memorial Day. Although our decision to hike at Cowles had nothing to do with the holiday weekend itself, it seems fitting for this reason: Memorial Day is a day that unites all Americans. We collectively appreciate those who have fought for our country’s safety and freedoms. Like the hikers atop Cowles Mountain, Americans are a diverse group. Each of us approaches life differently: some race up and down the trail, pushing themselves to the limit. Others go slowly, stopping to smell flowers and watch lizards. Some listen to music on their journey, some talk and others go to hear the wind in the scrub brush. Same trail, different motivations. But those who seek out Cowles share an appreciation for the mountain, just as all Americans—diverse as we are—can unite in our love of America. I gazed out over my county, and felt grateful for the strength and spirit of America. A beautiful morning indeed…

The Joy of Repurposing (April 15, 2010)

If you don’t browse thrift stores, you don’t know the fun of discovering a treasure hidden among the coffee mugs, sweaters and love-worn toys. The only rule of thumb for thrift stores is not to expect to find a specific item. Thrift stores, after all, are the gathering place of all things random. But stumbling upon something intriguing is what makes it cool.

A few days ago I treated myself to a thrift store gem. In the household goods section of the store I happened upon a ceramic candle holder, hand-made and glazed with various colors. At 99 cents, I couldn’t argue, and I knew immediately what my plans for it were.

Inside the candle holder there was a wad of wax gripping one wall of the cone-shaped interior. Perhaps the original owner didn’t know how to remove the melted candle and instead opted to give the holder away. I couldn’t believe someone would want to part with a one-of-a-kind piece of art, but I was glad to adopt it on the spot.

At home I turned on my hair dryer and aimed it at the candle holder. A few minutes later the wax was pliable enough to remove. I stuffed some dirt into the cavity and chose a few succulents from my collection outside. Being a plant junkie, I know that I can repot succulents with roots (and even those without roots). I tucked a few pieces into the dirt, ensuring that the plant was peeking out the cut-outs in the pottery. There were six tiny almond-shaped windows on each side of the opening of this piece, and I thought it would look great to see the plants growing out of the peek-holes. The fact that the piece is slightly asymmetrical just added to its charm. The irregularity it what makes hand-made art unique.

The hodge-podge nature of thrift stores makes them great places to go to exercise your creative muscle. Take something that calls to you and turn it into something else. Voila!

Bring on Spring! (March 19, 2010)

Every February I notice with glee that something has arrived, changing everything overnight. Even if the skies are gloomy over gray miles of concrete connecting San Diego, when the freeway flowers bloom overnight, my whole world looks bright. The highlighter-orange flowers pop up from the ice plant bordering the freeways, their blossoms like spiky heads of hair, poking in all directions. There are also yellow ones, fuchsia flowers and this year, even some purple blooms. Our rainy winter is paying dividends.

Some people might find the brightness of these flowers to be too much. Others may prefer exotic flowers that must be carefully tended in a greenhouse. Not me. I love that these bright spots of color thrive with no planned watering. Their brightness is exactly why I dig them so much. They aren’t pale pastels, timid and unobtrusive. NO! They are bold and vibrant, the equivalent of a cheer, when other flowers are whispering.

Even in San Diego where sunshine, not snow, marks our winter, spring makes a grand entrance. I started noticing the freeway flowers about a month ago, but now they are heralding Spring in full force, parading down the freeways’ edges in random bunches. Tomorrow is the first day of spring, according to my calendar, but for several weeks flowers have started to bloom everywhere. Tiny fruits, the size of green peas, have crept out of the branches of our peach tree. Brand-new green leaves dot trees that were bare a few weeks ago. It’s a coordinated explosion of life, and I am thrilled each year when it starts. I wonder if we’ll have a newborn batch of hummingbirds in the nest hidden in our Jasmine vine, as we did last April. Suddenly, everything seems different. Daylight Savings started six nights ago and the days already feel warmer. The growth and warmth and colors all bring such optimism. It’s hard not to feel happy as this season arrives.

Spring? Yes, please!

Football Fever (Jan. 17,2010)

My first mistake was assuming that there wouldn’t be many people there on a Sunday morning. Of course, things are different on a Sunday when there’s a big game. The grocery store was busy. Usually I don’t pay much attention to sports but I do know that the Super Bowl is 3 weeks from now so today’s game was a big one. I started counting Chargers shirts and jerseys in the parking lot. There were dozens. I saw them in the produce department, on check-out clerks and in the snack aisle, where one lady was loading her cart with bags of chips the size of bed pillows, for a super-sized football party, no doubt.

My second mistake was assuming that I could hold and breastfeed my newborn with one hand while pushing the shopping cart with the other. It was do-able for a long time, but the cart finally became heavy and harder to steer in the last two aisles, where I bought 2 gallons of milk and 3 liters of diet soda. No, I told the clerk, I didn’t need help out. Eleven bags of groceries plus the milk, but I’m a first-born, determined to do things myself.

On the drive home a vintage car bounced happily ahead of me, the huge thunderbolt flag above it doing the hula in the breeze. Another car had small flags sticking up from each passenger door. My son’s school allowed the kids to wear Chargers shirts or colors on Friday. Did San Diego have football fever? It felt like it. And it felt contagious. I’ve never been a sports fan but even I felt the excitement building in the city.

I wanted to blog about it, but by the time I got back from a birthday party and onto the computer I’d learned that the Chargers lost today’s game. But I’m writing nonetheless because what although their season is over, something else is still there. When your city is part of the playoffs, maybe it’s not really about the game, the team or the Super Bowl itself. What moved me wasn’t the chance to be swept up in the tidal wave of victory. No, to me the sudden sea f blue shirts represented something much bigger, much more important: a sense of unity. I liked seeing kids, grandmas, bankers and bikers all unified. In a city as big as San Diego people race around, leading their lives, rushing to or from work, living near other people but without interacting. People may not know their neighbors or spend the time to find common ground with those around them. The number of blue shirts was a physical sign that we as people have a lot in common. Sports doesn’t need to be the catalyst for coming together, but if it is, so be it. Whatever inspires us to search for what we have in common with others is valid. Although today’s game ended poorly for San Diego, it heartened me to see people united. Maybe it will inspire us to find other ways to come together with those around us…

New Year's UNresolutions (Dec. 30, 2009)

In general I’m not a big believer in New Year’s resolutions. I feel enough pressure to do and be my best every single day of the year. It’s part of the DNA of being a first-born. We put a lot of demands upon ourselves anyway, so why compound the stress by insisting upon yet another goal, simply because December is waning?

At the same time, of course, I recognize that there is some value in making resolutions. Pinpointing a goal is necessary if you want to achieve it, and verbalizing it often provides the commitment to get the ball rolling (or the bod jogging or whatever you intend to do). The new year gives people (me included) a good beginning point, a fresh start, impetus for something they may have been considering for a while.

So will I or won’t I be part of the tidal wave of resolution-makers as January approaches? I will. But it’s not because I feel obligated. My resolutions are ones I think are worthwhile and important. I’m dusting off two resolutions I’ve made in the past, and the fact that they are reruns illustrates just how hard it is to turn resolutions into lasting habits. My two? I want to have better posture and to floss more.

Both seem manageable. Operative word being “SEEM.” It’s wise to make your resolution something that is likely to be achieved rather than some Herculean feat. But there’s wiggle room within my resolutions, and therein lays the trouble. My resolutions may be hard to keep because unlike quitting smoking, which you either do or don’t do, having better posture or doing more flossing leaves room to ignore it on one day, promising yourself that the next day it will be a priority. My life is tiring, and posture often (literally) falls by the wayside because I am tired and hoisting myself up require energy. Flossing suffers the same fate because while I brush my teeth several times a day, flossing only occurs to me seconds before I collapse into bed at night and am too tired to stand up any longer. (Maybe I could floss laying down!)

So we’ll see. I hope that 2010 will be different. My teeth and skeleton hope this year will be different, too. But if the year is swept away by priorities bigger than posture and plaque, there’s always 2011. And maybe that will be the year I resolve not to make any resolutions at all!

Thanksgiving…Blue Skies and Short Sleeves (Nov. 26, 2009)

It’s Thanksgiving in San Diego again. It’s 75 degrees. Literally. Thanksgiving traditions here? Short sleeves! Maybe a Hawaiian shirt? A little turkey. Isn’t that how it is everywhere?!

Okay, I exaggerate. This week has been unusually warm for us. I really noticed the effect of the heat when I saw blossoms on a plant I’d been watering for months: Black-eyed Susan, pictured above. So vivid against the blue sky. Plants and flowers always remind me of how good life is, how resilient plants are, and how resilient people can be, too.

Resilience helped people live through treacherous boat journey to America before the first Thanksgiving, so it’s fitting that I’m thinking today about the human ability to endure and to keep trying. Today I am thankful for family, friends, health, freedom, laughter. Probably a hundred other things, but these are foremost on my mind. Am I excited about a wonderful meal that many people will contribute to and enjoy? Absolutely. But I’m also glad that we have this day when we pause from the usual busy-ness of our lives and remember how fortunate we are…

Big Announcement

Here it is. Brace yourself: I may not have anything to say. Yes, my lack of announcement IS my announcement. This may be the first time in 30-some-odd years when I have little to say. (Although are you noticing that I'm using quite a few words, for someone who supposedly has nothing to say? You have a point.)

A friend blogs too, and she recently celebrated a year of blogging. The day she realized she'd posted 131 posts in a year is the day I realized I had exactly 0 posts for the month of October! October was incredibly busy for me, but I was still surprised that I hadn't posted anything that month. Eeek! And it's certainly not a competition regarding who can post the biggest number of blogs. I'll leave the contest to other people. I suppose some months I have a lot to say, and other months I do other things. But even now I feel some pressure inside to make this post Exciting!!!!!! (and I'm not sure that exclamation points alone bring about the desired effect) Maybe I blog only when I'm musing about something in particular.

I'll end this post with a link to a really cute video. This video played a lot on a cable channel for little kids and I loved it so much I hunted it down on YouTube. While the video is intended for kids, the message is one for everyone, and the tune is not babyish. The song is called "Duck 4," although on YouTube you need to click on the title "One Egg Different from the Rest." The lead singer (Leon Thomas) is very talented, and his voice reminds me of Michael Jackson's as a teen. (It seems that everyone who has posted a comment about it on YouTube thinks so, too, so I guess I'm not imagining the comparison!) This song ALWAYS boosts my mood when I'm in a funk, and I thought I'd share the remedy...

http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=leon+thomas+iii+Duck+4&search_type=&aq=f