Fizzy Waters

I left for a 5 day get acquainted trip with the Fizz.

2000+ miles and 15 days later I am returned to the Pond.
I did pack my laptop but not the power cord. My bad.
I could have used more than one pair of shoes and 4 clothing changes too.

There was more Fizzing along than my new transport.
I had a very Fizzy brain too.
"Time" was a recurring theme.
Time in the larger sense.
Not the I need to find a gas station now sense.

Time in the sense of time to this point and
defining new goals for the time to come.
Such a simple sentence for such anything but simple complexities.
People are complex, lives are complex, decisions are complex.
Somewhere in the back channel thoughts about time have been percolating.
I actually do know the exact place and reason the thoughts were ignited.
One of those days where reality over runs you and takes your measure.

Time keeps on
slipping,
slipping,
slipping
into the future

Remember this tune? I don't want my time to slip into the future.
I maybe want, very badly, to not slip-up into the future either.

If I did movie clips I might do a Mermaid favorite from A Knight's Tale.
The scene where Chaucer is traveling naked down the path,
when questioned about what he was doing his response was "trudging"
questioned again he responded " to trudge ...."

I also wish not " to trudge".
I'd like to think my trudge years are behind me but ,
what if they are slipping back into my future?

I have a different favorite scene from the same movie,
I love Williams belief in a mans ability to
" change his stars"
He refused to run,
claimed to be a knight from inside out
not
outside in
as it appeared.

He stood for his belief in self and in fact,
successfully,
changed his stars.
A fairy tale?
Certainly.
But even the Grimm brothers could tell you their most successful tales all hold a lesson of truth.

I suspect the message permanently markered onto my makeup mirror is also about time.
This message says:
" There are only two reasons a woman abandons her dream,
The first is because she might realize her dream,
The second is because she might not,
Without the dream, she is lost"

All along I have thought this is a statement about making a choice.
A statement to choose and then pursue.
A statement about pursuing a dream of your own choosing.
A statement which reinforces the concept of :
the difference between a dream and a goal
Is a time line and an action plan.

Dreams rarely become reality.
Goals ARE reached
Dreams require no effort
Goals require a comprehensive strategy
And effort.

Now I think the markered mirror message is about timing.
When I was five,
I dreamed of having a baby brother.
When I was fifteen,
the dreams definitely were not about babies or brothers.
When I was twenty five
I was not thinking of Chaucer's " to trudge" but,
I had not pursued or prepared for my dream so trudge I did.
Daily. Weekly. Montly. Yearly. Endless trudging.
Right foot, left foot. Right foot, left foot into the future.

Then I changed my stars.
I identified the dream,
Strived for years to achieve the dream,
Lived the dream,
Enjoyed the dream,
Shared the dream,
OWNED the dream.

Only it wasn't a dream.
It was my goal described as " the dream".

Time.
Time is evolving my dream.
Perhaps a new dream is forming.
I think it is an extension, or maybe a natural progression, of the original dream.
But I have to define it.
Form an action plan and a time line.
Part of the Fizzy brain syndrome, and part of the miles, were in pursuit of that definition.
A return to the status of hunter/gatherer.
For information .
To aid in the formulation of a new strategy for
time coming to a future near me.

I am mindful of the Julia Roberts movie about her best friends wedding.
The scene where she so earnestly pleads,
" Choose me"
What that line means to me is " Choose wisely"
Don't have a panic attack and clutch for the comfortable and familiar.
Choose growth, choose stretching of self, choose challenge, choose rather than default to ...

Time
Vows are about time.
I promise to .... forever
Well, does that mean I will love , honor, cherish another exactly as I do on this day for all eternity? Of course not. Impossible. Time changes us. We can still love, honor, cherish for all our days but it will be a fluid , living, evolving, honoring of the promise.

Time.
I love being Mermaid's mother.
Our home is filled with photographs of captured joy.
The essence of the days depicted.
These are cherished photographs, cherished memories and
they will never happen again.
Other joys will build on the foundations we have laid down.
In this current time, and in future time.
Forever.

Time is a fluid, living, evolving reality.
Mermaid is grown.
Mermaid lives hundreds of miles from home.
I live hundreds of miles from my own mother.
Do we love each other less because of the miles?
Certainly not.


So why,
given the realities of time being a fluid, living , evolving reality
would I think a change in dream or goals would be unusual?
Requiring all this fizzy brainwork?
Preposterous.
But necessary to prevent slippage.

Fizzy Road Trip

Fizz is here,
A shining beauty in the sunlight!
We take to the roads today,
A multi state
get aquainted tour!
I might be back for Monday.
Maybe not. I'm spending time
with this sweet Valentine
Blowfish surprise.

SUPERimposed Images

Don't read this, I'm sad today.

This day the only interesting item to arrive in the Pond mailbox was the newest Land's End catalog. Once I started the dinner, I sat down in a cozy chair next to the fireplace in the Keeping Room to look at this version of a "wish book". To tell you the the truth, the gloomy skies with a mix of snow and rain began to be banished by the catalog photography and the brightly colored Spring and Summer wardrobe offerings. This is residual magic from my childhood. When a "wish book" arrived siblings and I would cozy together on the sofa to look closely and pick our favorite thing on each page. This too is a much treasured lesson from our mother. To savor, to envision, to choose, to share, to dream together. Lessons of family to last a lifetime.

Then on page 87 I unexpectedly got stabbed in the heart.

On that page, Land's End is offering carnation pink, all terrain, Mary Janes.
"My mother would love these shoes"! I think with excitement.
Then I remembered my mother no longer needs shoes.

Others who have lost, or are losing , loves know it is the little things which gut you the worst.

The big things, we brace for. For the big things we pray for Strength. Pray for Compassion. Pray for Acceptance. Pray for what we are feeling to NOT be our primary memory years from now. I
especially pray to not let this relentless trip toward death overshadow the experiences from a life lived.

In the case of my mother, she reads her daily paper, watches the news, observes the birds at the feeders, watches eagerly for buds to awaken in the view from her window. The view from her hospital bed. The view outside the misery. My mother loves on her pup, talks to her children and soldiers on as best she can. Cruel arthritis has stolen from her the pleasure of going out to garden, walking her own pup, getting herself dressed, combing her own hair or wearing cute little pink shoes. As immobility increases, circulation decreases and edema congregates. In her ankles, in those tiny little Aunt Pittypat feet, and now climbing upward. There are these huge foam booties velcroed to my Mother's feet. To prevent pressure points. Way bigger than Minnie Mouse shoes. I hate them. Actually, I hate there is a need for them. I guess I am , in fact, grateful they are available to minimize the suffering, or the complications.

Still, at some horrid place in my core, I want to shred them with a machete, or a buggy whip or a blender. I crave the satisfaction of being able to eradicate objects I have come to loathe. As if by attacking the velcro booties I could attack the arthritis which is stealing my mother. I cannot. But I yearn to vanquish that thieving, murderous, relentless horror that is end stage arthritis. I crave the release from an overwhelming anger I am forced to control. It is not to be. I cannot vanquish this foe with weapons or prayers. I must endure. I must conceal this huge wrath and be cheerful, positive, reinforcing, normal. For my mother. Who is suffering quite enough without feeling the angst of her children.

This issue of Land's End,
does not have any sleepwear.
It doesn't really matter.
What I wish for,
with all my heart,
is never
going to be delivered
to my mailbox
in a "wish book".

I went to Paris for Lunch

Don't you love it!

On a day like today,
Spending the day in my office,
I can go to Paris for lunch
Via this internet.
:-)

Beef and Bean Throwdown

Lemon Mint Marinade/Dressing
1/3 cup lemon juice ( 2 lemons)
2/3 cup EVOO
1/3 cup packed mint/finely minced
pepper and salt to taste

LemonMint LondonBroil Salad
We use just lemon juice and pepper to
marinate the London Broil but you can
use the dressing as marinade as well.
Green beans are lightly steamed then
we marinate these, still hot, while
the meat is broiling.

Goes great with lightly warmed Mediterranean
flat bread, but I forgot to buy some!