A Thailand beach surprise

As I promised in my previous post, we had a big surprise while visiting the Thai Islands.  Our son from Utah, Alex, and his girlfriend, Sam, planned to meet up with us for several days while we were staying in Ao Nang, Krabi.  But that wasn't the surprise.  Alex had been to Krabi before and thought what better time than to come over again while we were there.

Alex and Sam stayed over in Railay, only accessible by boat, which was a short ride for us from Ao Nang.  Railay is surrounded by a warm sea, lush jungle and limestone cliffs.  Perfect for the adventurous, like Alex and Sam.

Of course, there are others who would prefer just to chill out 

and have a wonderful Thai massage.....

.... or hang around reading ....

.... or sleeping .....

or like this kitty ....

watch what others come here to do, 

from all around the world

... rock climb ...

But rock climbing wasn't what Alex came to do.  Alex had other plans.  

As an experienced BASE jumper, he planned to do several jumps on this visit, as he had on other visits.  If you are not familiar with BASE jumping, it is an extreme sport of jumping from fixed objects with a parachute. The name BASE is derived from the fixed objects that are jumped from:  buildings, antennas, spans (like a bridge) and earth (like cliffs). 

One has be in great shape to endure the climbs 

up the backside of these cliffs.  

It took Alex about 3 hours to climb through jungle and sharp, knife-life rock 

to reach his jumping off point.

And he lands ....

The jump was awesome to watch,

but even more awesome was what happened

after he landed!

He got down on one knee in front of Sam and said:

"I thought I'd take the plunge and ask you to marry me."

Well .....  you can see what her response was!

It was wonderful to share such a memorable moment

with family.

Congratulations Alex & Sam.

Looking forward to your Utah wedding in March 2015!

A side note:  One must be alert when packing one's parachute.  You never know when some Thailand kitty may try to rearrange your lines!  Might not make for a pleasant landing!

Quietly reflecting

quietly reflecting
i listen to the rhythmic crash of waves
on the rocks below my
bungalow

here
on the other side
of the world

a day beginning
a day ending

a child's voice echoes off
the lush forested hillsides
as i watch a songbird
alight upon
the red tiled rooftop
below

her song
loud and urgent
a melody of purpose

yet

her presence
is fleeting.

as evening shadows
embrace me
i pause
inhaling memories
of transitory moments that
ride upon the wing
of the songbird
as she takes flight

into the night

no longer earthly bound
she soars

here
on the other side
of the world

a day beginning
a day ending

       ~ ~ ~

For Eve, my beautiful and loving sister-in-law, who lost her battle with cancer last week.  Although her presence is no longer earthly, her spirit still sings in the minds and hearts of all humans and creatures that had the privilege of her love.

I will be a bit quiet for a while.

Ode to King Kitty Kramer

His chest moves rhythmically as he sleeps.  Aside from my computer, I'm keeping close company with Kramer today. He lies at my feet and purrs away my sorrow as I reach down and stroke his soft fur.  Today is my last day with him.  Kramer has been living with a chronic illness for a while now and today we will say goodbye to him before his illness turns to suffering. 

Kramer was a rescue kitty along with his sister, Zoey, who passed a number of years ago.  He was never a lap kitty, but more dog like in his behavior, sitting at our feet under the dinner table or lying bedside in the evenings.  Cautious and careful, Kramer would hiss at brooms or vacuum cleaners and run from heavy footsteps.  Always affectionate, he loved head rubs and would greet me in the mornings with a kitty mew hello or a pawing at the sheets to inform me his food dish was empty.  

Other times, I would awake to the gift of his fave toy, a little yellow duckie by my bedside.  He taught us to throw water in the shower for him to drink, to never let his food bowl go empty and that persistent head bumps should be met with a kitty massage.

Kramer will enjoy his last breath in our backyard surrounded 

by chatty birds and the sounds of mother nature.  

As it should be.  

He will feel our love as his heart stops. 

Kramer. King Kitty Kramer.  Kitty Kitty. 1997-2013.

My heart aches with your loss.

Seeking

i have looked for you
in so many
places

sought your
smile in
faces

of strangers

on crowded subways
and uneven
cobbled streets
of far away lands

watching, waiting
hoping

i will catch
a glimpse of a face
or a tilt of the head
that will remind me

of you

and when i do

i will smile

remembering

Love at the Five and Dime

"We don't remember days, we remember moments."

~  Cesare Pavese  ~

Looking forward to a nice long weekend and I will be kicking it off by seeing one of my 

favorite musicians in Annapolis.  

Nanci Griffith

One of my her songs, "Love at the Five and Dime", takes me down memory lane and the Woolworth store in Muscatine, Iowa, a small river town 

that sits on the Mississippi.

My grandmother and I would frequent it during the hot summer months.

I have great memories of sitting at the counter at that five and dime store

and ordering ice cream sundaes! 

A rare treat for a farming family of modest means.

It's a beautiful song as well as delightful!

Hope you enjoy.

Love at the Five and Dime by Nanci Griffith

By the way,

what are you doing this weekend?  

Do share!

: : :

Kitty love

you come
expectantly

in the early morning hour

waiting for the first sign of
my awakening

i feign sleep
stealing a glance

your way
through heavy eyelids
as you gaze 
at the dancing shadows 
of my drawn shade

i wonder 

do you dream of fields of green
or prey you seek to stalk
are you fierce and dangerous
like your ancient ancestors 
who haunt your sleep
each night

do you resent this placid life
provided by this human
isolated by a window pane
to keep the world outside

or 

do you find a source of comfort

from imagined enemies and foes

who linger long in shadows 

of your nightly darkened dreams

i wonder

do you like your
life kitty
or do you want for more

when you come
expectantly
each morning 

and gaze
at the dancing shadows
of my drawn shade

: :

your mama
(reena)

 

Run Forrest Run

On Monday morning while I am still sleeping, my first born will be stepping onto a bus to join 27,000 other men and women who are congregating outside Boston.  The air will be filled with tense excitement as the hours dwindle to minutes until their start times. 

It's the 115th Boston Marathon.

26.2 miles of winding roads from the rural town of Hopkinton to urban Boston.

The Holy Grail of running.  Renown for its level of difficulty to qualify.

And my boy will be there for the second year in a row.   I'm one proud mother.

Proud because, not only is it incredibly hard to qualify for the Boston, but that my son did not start running until several years ago. 

I know!

Pretty remarkable for a 40 year old! 

But then this is a kid who started walking at 9 months!  Always one determined-goal oriented-high achiever-kind of kid. 

Here's my boy running the Boston last year.  I was a spectator among 500,000 others that day.  The roar of the crowd was incredible as we all cheered and encouraged the runners onward.

But things can get a little tough around mile 15, where the road starts going up a series of hills, named the Newton Hills.  Tough because after running 15 miles downhill, these slight inclines can break even the toughest runner. 

But not my boy.  He plowed through.  See that determined look on his face.   One more hill to go.

The last of the four hills is known as Heartbreak Hill.  And not because the runners feel *heartbroken* from the fact that they have to conquer yet another ascent.

Which would be totally understandable!  I would have been flat on my back at mile marker 1.

No, Heartbreak Hill was named in the 1936 race when defending champion, John Kelley, caught up with the race leader, Ellison ‘Tarzan’ Brown, giving him a consolatory pat on the shoulder as he passed him.  This dominating gesture apparently gave Tarzan supernatural strength, and he went on to win the race in front of Kelley.  In the words of a local journalist, the outcome of this act ‘broke Kelley’s heart’.  Thus, Heartbreak Hill.

 

Heartbreak Hill didn't crack my boy though.  He said there was no greater sight than that last mile and coming around the bend and seeing the finish line.  He almost broke into smile.   

And no greater joy than coming across that line.  You can see it in all the runners' faces as they reach the finish.

So tomorrow morning, I will be thinking of my son as he paces and tries to keep warm in the early morning hour.  By 10:00 am, he and 9,000 others in his wave will charge out.

I am awestruck at all of them for their commitment and dedication to an extreme sport that requires discipline, sacrifice and physical and mental strength.

Even more so, I am overwhelmed with pride and love of this boy who has grown into this man.

::

missing the mom gene

Do you remember

do you remember

when we 

sat upon

the warm sea wall

and you took my hand

and whispered 

everything would

be okay

tomorrow

and I said

but what about 

today

and leaned 

into your warmth

with the sun beginning

to give way

to

 night 

and darkness

can you 

come back

to me

so I can hear 

your voice

one more time

that everything 

will be okay

~ 

missing the mom gene

Evolving Love

I am so lucky to have met this man 12 years ago and to share my life with him.  I am especially thankful for the work he puts in to make our marriage work, his willingness to adjust course when needed and mostly, forgive me when I'm difficult.

A work in progress ... He and I.

Happy VD, Dear Professor,

Missing the mom gene

Ma Bell No Friend of Mine

Grandson:  Nana, your phone is ringing.

Me:  Yes, I hear it.

Grandson:  Aren’t you going to answer it?

Me:  Nope.

Grandson:  Why not?

Me:  Cause if they have something say to me, they can leave me a message.

Grandson:  I can answer it for you.

Me:  Nope, that’s okay.

Grandson:  (Looking very troubled that no one was picking up the phone.) But what if they don’t leave a message?

Me:  Well, I guess it wasn’t important, was it?


This exchange with my grandson reminds me of the old story of the Maine storekeeper who was the last one in town to get one of those newfangled telephones. When a long-time friend and customer heard it ringing, and the storekeeper continued their conversation, the customer finally asked if the storekeeper was going to answer it. The reply: "I put it in for my convenience, not theirs."

Hmmm.  I am so not alone in the world!

It is a well known fact in my family that I won’t answer the phone.   House phone or cell phone, I let them ring their way to voice mail.  I figure, if they have something to tell me, they can leave me a message.  No need for me to interrupt what I’m doing at the moment.  I’ll call back ... eventually.

You might say I have some sort of phone aversion.

When my kids call, I let it go to voice mail.  And unfortunately, sometimes it can take me days to call back.  I forget.  Bad me.

Needless to say, that makes me very unpopular with them.

My friends primarily don’t phone.  They just email.  Or send me postcards.

I really like postcards.

But there is one person whose calls I DO take.  And that is The Professor’s. 

I kind of want to stay in his good graces.

He leaves me little love notes.

He brings me coffee in the morning.

And fixes my grapefruit.

And rubs my feet.

And takes all those calls that I won’t.

So there will be no sending him to voice mail.

Because he may just stop taking MY calls.

And then where would I be?

All alone in the world.

Singing to him like When Harry Met Sally

"Call me, don't be afraid, you can call me,

Maybe it's late but just call me -

Tell me and I'll be around."

So not me!

Especially on the phone!  Aack!


missing the mom gene (and missing the phone talking gene)

Kitty Love

Kitty Kitty!  I’m home!  I’m home, Kitty!

 Ahhh .... you’re so cute.  I’ve missed you! 


Did you miss me?

Aww, Kitty.  Please don’t turn away.  I’m sorry I was gone so long. 

It’s just sometimes I must travel to places that you cannot go.

You say you don’t understand?

You say I am unforgiven.

Oh, but I love you Kitty Kitty!

Don’t take your love away.

(Quick!  Name that Song: “Ruby, don’t take your love to town!”)

Oh Kitty.

Remember our love?

Remember the joy of having your soft furry belly brushed?

Or the lift I give you up the stairs when your arthritis pains you?

Or when I spoon up your fave yogurt?

How about the nights you curl on my bed and dream with me?

See? There was nothing to worry about.  I’m home.

I still love you.
  Come a little closer.

No need to be aloof.

I just want to rub your furry neck.

And tickle your ever so pinky nose. 


Oops.

Sorry.

I forgot the nose is off limits.

(I just forget sometimes.)

But I never forget you. Even when my travels take me away.

You are still with me.

Because you are my King Kitty Kramer.

My one and only.

Always here with love, Kitty Kitty,
missing the mom gene

All about giving...

It’s Christmas morning.  My present this morning is being served in bed with my favorite cherry walnut bagel, coffee, and the morning paper.

This does not happen often.

If ever.

But I whispered to The Professor yesterday that MY recipe for a perfect Christmas morning would include these types of ingredients.

And he so graciously obliged.  All gloriously served to me while Kitty Kitty watched, all 25 pounds of him with lashing tail, watching in all his kitty horror that no food had yet been served up in his bowl.  

(Sorry Kitty Kitty.  We’ll make it up to you with an extra portion.)

Soft swirling snowflakes are beginning to fall.

The house is quiet and peaceful with my very most favorite (all 175 of them) tunes playing throughout the house.  A little Van Morrison, Bonnie Raitt, Nanci Griffith, Paul Simon, Bob Dylan, Black Eye Peas, Ray LaMontagne, Tom Waits, Ella Fitzgerald, Eagles, Coldplay, Cowboy Junkies, Michael Buble, Billy Joel, Ambrosia, Jason Mraz, and topping it off with a little Jimmy Buffett.

I have my laptop, typing, still wearing my ratty pajama bottoms and my ancient black Hollywood tee shirt that I’ve slept in for a week.  Aside from regular visits to the kitchen for a little left over turkey and oyster stuffing, I have no agenda today.

Nothing pressing.  Maybe a movie.

I’m leaning towards Black Swan (psychological thriller in which the heroine must confront her “dark side”). So my type of movie. 

The Professor is pushing The Fighter, about a young Irish boxer.  He leans a bit more to an uplifting story on this day.

A 

day 

of 

giving.

I guess we’ll be going to The Fighter.

If only I could stay in my ‘jams.

And oh yeah, Merry Christmas and all that.

yours truly,
missing the mom gene