In Spite of ... and Because

Submitted by Virginia Watts on Fri, 03/10/2017 - 21:05

Under the best of conditions we grow straight and true, perfect images of what we were intended to be. Or are those images for us? Sometimes life throws us curves, or obstacles. Sometimes we have to bend or we will break. Sometimes we have to hide to survive. Life will do what it must, and mostly if we let it, we can trust that in the end we will be enough. We may not be what we think is our perfect image, or even anyone's image, but we survive. Being reminded of that by a carrot is unusual, I suppose, but also very ordinary.

Bruised and Battered

Submitted by Virginia Watts on Thu, 02/23/2017 - 14:51

Parker Palmer writes about “withering into the truth” as he ages. That phrase captures both a hope and hopelessness for me. I have never felt so depleted before. Childbirth was a breeze compared to this new age and stage. At seventy-five, and recently recovering both from a bout with the flu and a bad fall, I am experiencing a kind of weariness and dysphoria that is new to me. I can’t seem to get my legs under me to move back into my life.

DO YOU NEED HELP OUT?

Submitted by Virginia Watts on Tue, 11/22/2016 - 15:56

That's a question I get asked when I go grocery shopping and have more than a couple of items, but not one I was asked very often when I was younger. Maybe it's a new trend -- people trying to help one another. That would be great.

My reponse is always "No, I can manage thank you." But today the shopping was a particularly big one, with a box of bottles -- wine, and sparkling water. So I decided to opt for some assistance.  medium_P1160124.JPG

GREAT EXPECTATIONS

Submitted by Virginia Watts on Thu, 11/10/2016 - 12:30

We certainly had them, didn't we? So many great and grand expectations..so much hope..

We knew the gift we had been longing for, working for, was really, really within our reach and we just had to wait patiently until we could open it. Until we could own it.          medium_P1160104.JPG

Fall?

Submitted by Virginia Watts on Sun, 08/28/2016 - 13:54

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I'm sitting at the Farmers Market enjoying a tamale and a latte. The air is warm, but not too warm. In fact it is beginning to feel a tiny bit like fall. There are a few yellow leaves on the liquidambar (or redgum) trees. Since those are usually the first to turn, it may be some time before there is evidence elsewhere. I don't count the Halloween decorations already appearing at Michael's.

Contributions that Matter

Submitted by Virginia Watts on Tue, 08/02/2016 - 12:12

"What are you, some kind of a poet?!"

 

I was eighteen and out on a blind date. My roommate had asked me to double date with her because her brother was in town and she didn't want him to feel like the odd man out. We were sitting on the Santa Barbara pier having dessert. I looked out the window at the shoreline and said "Wow -- the lights on the water look like a snow cone!"

"What are you, some kind of a poet?!" was my date's response. 

Whirled News

Submitted by Virginia Watts on Fri, 07/15/2016 - 20:55

It is Friday night and we have just come home from a pleasant evening at our not-so-local-but-friendly pub. I admit I have had a little more than two glasses of wine, and I won't tell on my husband who does love his Old Fashioneds. But we did our traditional end of week date and enjoyed every minute. 

Bees in Clover

Submitted by Virginia Watts on Sun, 06/05/2016 - 13:56

Eight-thirty on a Sunday morning and the air is softly warm after yesterday's punishing heat. Farmers' Market. Picnic tables under the trees and there is shade even though the morning sun is still slanting in from the east. 

Guitarist properly amped and the play list is every song I love and new ones I haven't heard but fall for immediately. Is it something in the coffee? It's only a decaf latte. 

Engaged to Writing

Submitted by Virginia Watts on Wed, 05/11/2016 - 15:31

Of all the definitions of “engage,” the one that most attracts me is the intransitive verb “to come together and interlock .” Sounds a little sexy, doesn’t it?

 

So many things out there in the world that I am longing to be engaged to, and with. One of them is writing. Too often I push it off into a corner to wait.

 

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