Monday, April 30, 2012

Ben and His Band of Merry Boys

They call themselves 'P B & J'. (Pat, Ben, Blake & Jag)

Saturday, April 28, 2012

So - home this weekend, first time off on a Saturday in almost a year.  (well, minus recent wonderful trip to Guadalajara.)

My blog is scaring me, sending notices of shutting down unless i transfer to the the new ftp format.  I think I've done that, but the emails continue so i may drop out of blogosphere May 1.  In which case, a fresh start may not be such a bad thing anyways.

Last weekend I set out all my deck furniture and made potato salad in anticipation of brighter days.  Inevitably, that triggered a week of rain.  Did enjoy the first sounds of summer though.  The noisy neighbors shouted, 'no water! no water!' as their children delightedly hosed down each other down then screamed in indignation as the dousing was reciprocated.  Seems like such a short time ago we were the noisy neighbors with small kids.

Today i'm helping track down student funding for my daughter studying spanish in Mexico.  Her 6 months at Universidad PanAmericana are drawing to a close and she's desperately plotting how to extend her time there.  I'm riding a roller coaster of emotion on her behalf, hoping there's a way she can stay, but tethered by financial realities.  If only the world were fueled by wishes and not dollars.

Well, the house is quickly coming to life.   Mike is leaving town for the weekend, the kids are up fridge surfing for breakfast and Frodo just bounded in, filthy and enthused from his visit through a crack in the fence with the neighbor's dog.

Saturday begins.
Have a good one!

Sunday, April 22, 2012

Saturday, April 21, 2012

Friday, April 20, 2012


...was an awesome day for driving. Nothing like 80kms an hour, a fresh display of spring greens on the roadside and some new tunes on my blackberry. I can't even count how many times i've traveled this particular stretch of road, observing the varied signs of development and change.

Years ago along this road, i watched with interest as a new building was going up on the property of an existing house. It was the shape & colour that caught my eye. The building looked like a tower, circular with two levels, 80's pink and stood alone in the garden. I was captured by the possibility of such a place. What would someone do in there when it was finished? Would it be an artist escape to paint or write or read great literature? A guest house or B&B? A castle playhouse for children? A fancy off season home for summer tents, lawnmowers & garden tools?

I imagined many scenarios for the little tower, but one day the progress on the building stopped abruptly and has never resumed. As i drove by yesterday, 20 years later, the tower is largely unchanged. The exterior is now neglected and decaying, the inside has never been finished.. For an insane moment I considered stopping and asking the owner what had become of their dream. But instead drove by, lost in musings of things begun but left unfinished.

Have you ever wished when you've let go of a dream or a project, that a stranger would drive onto your property inquiring why? No, i thought not. But wouldn't it be something once in a while, to be reminded unexpectedly that you still could resurrect your wildest?

I have lots of my own; to study fine arts, to travel, paint, write, learn a language, spend a season in another country. But time, money & circumstance have a way of crowding dreams, don't they? Especially when i think only the full meal deal experience will do. Sometimes i hopelessly throw all my plans in the air because i can't have what i want right now. Living in a culture of immediate gratification makes waiting or partial plans seem like such a rip off.

I wonder if that's also what happened with the little tower? So i had this half baked fantasy of showing up on the doorstep of the tower owner in work clothes, saying 'hello, you don't know me, but c'mon, let's resurrect this thing!' And begin the abandoned project again. Maybe we wouldn't follow the original blueprint, but we could certainly start painting.

Usually the stories i think on have personal relevance. Some of my plans are disappointingly on hold at the moment. But does that mean abandoning them? Or does it mean downsizing my expectations & rethinking how to continue? I'm discovering that's the very small difference between hope and hope-lessness as far as plans go. I read a great quote recently,

So today, I've been checking out the 25 other letters of the alphabet. I found several free (!) online university art history & theory courses, a friend fluent in spanish offered to tutor, my evening paint class will suffice for now and........omg, some freak i don't know, wearing work clothes just drove in and is outside banging on my door!

Resurrecting your own tower is surprisingly simple when you stay cool.