Scenes From My Week

Saturday evening Wayne and I went out a hot date to the Home Depot parking lot. We didn’t go “parking” but were looking at the sheds on display in the upper 80 degree temps. The night before was an even hotter date–there was a rollover accident in our town that took out a utility pole. When he got home from work our house had been without air conditioning for about four hours. I wasn’t able to make that organic turkey meatloaf I had planned, either, so we went out to, ready? the food court at the mall. We didn’t want to deal with crowded Friday night restaurants.

Here are some more cheerful and picturesque things from my week:

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This and That

Pictured are two of my books for summer reading. I’m really enjoying A Chipmunk On My Shoulder but it’s making me miss Wishy and Chippie even more. I haven’t seen Rocky or any chipmunks in the past couple of weeks, but it’s been relatively hot so they lay low. At least I hope that’s what’s going on. I’m looking forward to Margery Wilson’s book since she’s one of my favorite inspirational authors.

Earlier today after running my morning errands which included filling my gas tank at the station on the busy corner of the main drag I felt something weird on the backside of my leg when I sat down at my desk. What is THAT?! A big lump…a clump?

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Monitoring Dogs & Piping Plovers

Last year when Wayne proposed to me on the beach we were surrounded by piping plovers. I captured a video of it that you can see and hear here. Piping plovers are an endangered species so there are special dogs restrictions in place to help keep the plovers safe. I’m a volunteer beach monitor through a town government sponsored program. They are such charming little birds and I wanted to give back to them for their being a part of our engagement.  My job is educate dog owners not in compliance and observe the plovers.

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Twenty-Four Years Ago

Twenty-four years ago I left Rasputins in Burlington, VT and way of “coping” after a humiliating, frightening, dangerous and FINAL drunk. The next day I opened the door to a church basement to begin a program of recovery that I’m still practicing today. Whatever illusory “liquid courage” I imagined I had back then can’t compare to the badassery of living sober.

Thank you, Lawrence Wishner & Elizabeth Taylor

What does it mean to be authentic? Does it mean that you have to share every passing thought, desire, opinion and passion with whomever will listen? Do you have to follow every fancy, eat whatever you’re craving because well, you gotta be you? Not for me, no. “To thine own self be true” is something I try and live every day which is not to be confused with self-centeredness, narcissism or lack of self-restraint. Sometimes it involves making life-altering choices; other times it’s seemingly inconsequential, however when such “little” decisions are strung together over time they look a lot like a lifestyle. 

So why then do I sometimes feel like I need permission to be myself? And from whom does this permission need to come? What if it never comes to pass?

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Happy Independence Day from Rocky!

Rocky continues to have a penchant for rocks. Thankfully he lives not just in a free country, but in a yard that is free from the tyranny of “must be golf course perfection” and the owners of which celebrate chipmunks and all of their “decorating” glory!*

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