And now back to our regularly scheduled programming

Wow. That was pretty severe. Yes, I have those moments. You all know that. Little miss toughie tough crumbles a bit from time to time and just has to get it out. Well, it's out.

I've been listening to Florence on repeat a few days now. It's amazing how Dog Days Are Over (posted earlier) makes it impossible for me to sit still (I just have to dance or at least bust a shoulder move in the car) and makes my heart soar, while this song impels me to find the nearest heavy bag and pound until my fists are bloody or lace up the runners and hit the hills and never come back. She's an amazing writer and it's such a gift she has to be able to trigger such strong emotions, well, at least in me.

I think at times we've all felt heavy in someone's arms before. Like our love is a burden and not a gift. I'm learning, slowly but surely, that a) the trick is to just be true to your heart, be patient, and try to love without expectation or judgment for the sake of love itself and b) I prolly shouldn't listen to this song while drinking Malbec. :)

Peace, people, and oh yeah, love. <3

Yup.

You ever want to scream? Just fucking scream? Yup. my love has concrete feet ...

4 days later ...

What I wouldn't give to go back and have my only thoughts be about how soothing the sun's rays are on my skin and how soft the sand feels against my bare belly; the only sounds are the waves crashing on the rocks and the skaters' wheels cracking the concrete when they make a trick; the only smells are the salty air and hamburgers from the cafe. It only took four days for the heavy weight of reality to come smacking back down on me. And I'm pretty sure she's been pigging out on snickers bars and French bread in my absence. Why else would she feel so much heavier?

Trying to think happy thoughts ...

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Garden lurve

Testing out a new blogging app on the phone so I can post from the beach this weekend! This is my favorite heirloom tomato from my garden this summer. It's purple inside!


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My new little addition. (Done by the artist who tattood Lil Wayne, might I add.) Love! <3

Awwwww! Fireworks lurve. ;) Happy birthday USA! 

Colorado blue sky and snow in June. On the way to steamboat last weekend. Love!

I thought maybe I'd write a bit about the picture of my pond below; one of my happy places. Lounging with a glass of wine, listening to the pond's happy gurgle, smelling the Iris and soaking in all the pinks, purples and greens of the primrose and phlox is a spring/summer highlight for me. The first night it's warm enough to sit by it, I throw on some David Gray, pour a big glass of white and head out, giddy with excitement. It's the true beginning of summer for me.  The boys mow the lawn and I wrap up in a blanket, think about what I'm going to plant that summer, smell all the new flowers blooming, teach Sara their names, drink my wine and watch the sun go down. If it's a weekend, we light a fire in the fireplace on the patio and eat s'mores. Happiness.

I think one of the reasons I love this part of my yard so much is because it's grown to something peaceful and beautiful, though it wasn't always that way. When we first moved into this house in '03 I hated this berm.  It was a big hilly lump of heavy clay soil in which nothing would grow. I've planted hundreds of dollars worth of plants in what I used to call the Northwest Berm (now the Pond Berm, go figure) in my annual gardening plans. It made me sad to even look at it. One day, staring at it out of my kitchen window, I'd had it.  It was either flatten it out and sod it, or (lightbulb!) build a pond.

The day Brian started digging I took my dog, Quincy, to the vet for his annual check-up. I found out that day that he had heart disease. I came back from the appointment and Brian was so proud of the progress he had made in digging the pond I had wanted so badly. I plopped down on the edge, feet dangling down, and wept, with Q right next to me. The dog that was the straw (another story entirely), had a month to a year left in his squirrelly little life.  Here Brian was so happy of his accomplishment and all I could do was cry.

Q lived over a year from when we built that pond. He died the fall of the following year, and probably dug up half the plants I built around it in that time. But, it's still beautiful. And when I look at the pond, I think of how sad I was when I sat on the edge of that empty pit and how beautiful and full it became by the time Q died, just like a sick little puppy found on the side of the road in a tobacco field in Virginia found a happy life. I think about what a lifeless, horrible lump of clay it was and how it was molded and transformed into something peaceful and happy, something I look forward to looking at each day. It reminds me that even when things feel horrible, good things can happen and that beauty and happiness can come with a little faith, patience, and perseverance.

My happy place. :)