rough spots

some days, it is easier to get going and to have a day where all is running smoothly on8 cylinders. today was one where I was on 4 cylinders and was a little clunky not being as fully alive as I could have been =numbing some of the sensitivity of the senses a little while back. Sorry Lord.
Go to the sister site for more insight.

rainbows and roses and lobsters

From my window sill looking out over the darkened limbs swaying in the distance.
Still winter out and wanting to touch the rose bush with bare hands
prickles nearby-wanting to be pricked by the sharp shard of blade of growth
carefully avoiding the barbs in memory--on occassion getting stung by one. an ouch exclaimed.


looking out over the edge of the lobster boat and seeing into the brine of the ocean-a depth that is fathomed
rope pulling upward with water glistening off it
straining forward and upward as the winch carries forth a load of tasty morsels-slowly restrained and rested by the rope and mesh of the trap.
A grab of the hand of the lobsterman and the snap of the rubber bands. Giving the opaque crustaceans a little more freedom to roam around-yet not pinch anyone. Transferred to white and green tanks for the summer visitor-
unknown as to where and when they are headed.

looking heavenward for the rainbow to appear in the sky
after a hot summer rain and the wind rushing by my face.

All Scarlet in color and brilliant in their many ways.

Icy A.M.

Ich. It is winter again. "We had some slick driveways today. But at least George was there this morning to help me across the parking lot to the church so I would not fall on my rear and be in pain. Good to have a helping hand get across the parking lot. Yet kind of hard at times to ask for one to make my life a smoother one yet I try to manage a lot of the time on my own.

serendipity found

Awaking on friday morning, I opened my front door and found my daily CT Post and scanned the front section and noticed in the happenings section a forum in Fairfield called the Poet's turn at the Fairfield Arts Center which was happening that evening. I quickly went to a couple of my pieces and printed out them so I could share them that evening.
It is a fine find when I see how God answers small prayers of long ago of opportunities to share my work and to have it happen in this way. To be able to go and be a part of an exciting evening of 11 local poets, 2 of whom had a book each for sale. To be able to share my life amongst theirs and to hear how words as common building blocks build different structures that have somewhat similar meanings. One of the poets expressed her concern of a friend or relative that was in a school system that was challenged under No Child Left Behind and how it was a struggle for this child to keep up. I then decided when it was time for additional readings to share a piece I wrote last June that gave first hand insight into that struggle.

Hello Santa Rita Mountains

This morning in the local newspaper, The Connecticut Post. there was a picture of a grove of cacti that were covered with 2 inches of snow. Several years ago, my mom and dad saved a snowball that was made one winter from a few inches of a quick snow that was brought out of the freezer of our home on Casa del Mundo. A quick snapshot of an event from a few weeks prior to my visit, carefully preserved for me to see.

I will not be visiting you, Çacti, this year since I will not be visiting my parents in Arizona since we have given up our base of the last 18 years of going down there. But I am glad to see your cousins and relatives in the print and media that show your presence down there still. I will still miss you but nature has a way of staying within our souls and when we reach out to it, we can see the impact that it has on us.
Elephant Head, I won't be seeing you as the Stagecoach limo approaches you, but I will always remember your stately presence on the indian landscape of the Santa Rita Mountains and of your neighbors that have been naturally etched by erosion. Glad to still have glimpses of your stately sights within my imagination=even if slightly faded from the last sight of you.

A few musings while thawing out

Muy Frio today. The day was very cold today. Especially with a bus number 11 that never showed up at 11am after my haircut on Black Rock Turnpike. The sun did obey me in a way when I asked it to shine but the wind kept howiling. I am not a lover of the cold weather. I'd rather spend time with the warmth but cycles of nature are part of human life. Not much activity was present on the street except for those braving the winter cold for the bus or to do errrands on the street.
It must be tough for those who live out on the street with their cups in hand. I forget about the plight of those less fortunate who have no place to go except for a shelter for a roof. I have the blessings of a home and being able to get around. I had to make today's errand since I made the announcement that I was getting my haircut done and eyebrows trimmed. If that did not happen , I would have been very unhappy as shaggy dog for week #3. If I only did it when the tropics were present, that would have been great!!!!!

Back to the nature of being semi-frozen, believers in the christian church are often called frozen, especially in the Northeast. I am that way sometimes since I don't make advances in my faith. That was made clear when I took a survey from Joni and Friends on biblical literacy and from a study that I am doing on the book of Revelations with my friends that asked how do we evaluate our faith. I am staying relatively constant-not advancing or shrinking in my faith. Sort of stuck in neutral.. I realized now that if I stay stuck, I will still be frozen but maybe unable to move forward to accomplish God's plans.

Left over party favors

Looking out at the window, I see the left over balloons tied with red and orange ribbons fighting to keep themsleves up and in place. The balloons are bouncing back and forth as they hang tethered between the branches. Gently dancing and flapping in the breeze. Taking the time to celebrate along amongst themselves after having been in a loud and boisterous celebration the night before. To provide a bit of color in the drab of the new cold of a long delayed winter. A way to dress up this time of year and a time for celebration for those who look out their windows.
A week later that balloon is still doing its dance out there. Oblivious to the cold and the changes to the temperatures, it is keeping its shape and form.

Gandalf's Corner. Pull up a stool and a long-stem pipe...

Gandalf's Corner. Pull up a stool and a long-stem pipe...

Building up Bridgeport

Growing up in the town of Fairfield , I rarely visited Bridgeport except to go to the scientific shoe fitters on Broad Street or to go to some local doctors that were in Bridgeport. They were a drive in and out of the city. And then there were the visits to the psychologist ,Dr. Ralph Welch, at 2591 Main street in Bridgeport. Dr. Welch was a man who had a white beard and wore glasses. He had a friendly outgoing personality to him. When I walked into his office, he got up from his chair and greeted me and asked me to sit down. We talked on different issues that were going on in my life at the time.
His office was in a two family home . The home was on the corner of the street . His walls had wood paneling and a huge head of a lion hung on one of the walls behind him glowed at me as I went through my counseling sessions bi-weekly after school.
To get to these meetings, I called the Fairfield Cab company and returned home when my dad picked me up in his green maverick.

At that time, I was a twenty year adult about to transition in to the world outside of the public education system and had no idea of how I was going to improve and adjust to the world of college. The social service agency, Department of Vocational Rehab services felt it would be good to provide me a way to make the transition and be there if needed. At that time, I felt Dr. Welch's office was a place where I would find some comfort and solace. It was a place where I could talk about my concerns and focused mainly on myself. I thought that if I could talk about what was bothering me and find a release for my concerns that it would resolve them. Yet it was a revolving door that never shut completely. When a door gets closed and discussions are held and then are used outside in the world with our thoughts and agendas, it can sometimes be like a fire that only causes more damage than the healing. I regret the way that I caused arguments with my parents over some rather trivial stuff that was important at the time yet do not know now what they were.

Looking back on being in the world then when I was twenty, I was much younger and also still tied to to my nest at home. The counseling had the goal of trying to help me emerge into the world-getting out of my cocoon so I could find my way into it. Emerging from the cocoon has struggles and as I went through that process, there were a few fragments of that cocoon that were torn and left hanging from the branch of the caterpillar.
Looking forward from that point, I found that emergence as I did enter Fairfield University as a citizen of Connecticut from amonst the other 49 states present. I gained a broader perspective of the world.

The Second day of the new year

The days are roling along now within the new year. Old habits die hard. Back to the mountain of work that never seems to end and I am becoming more aware of my faults of announcing when I am to drop off a report when someone is on the phone. I will just leave it and move on-being silent will not be all that bad.

People at the office said that I was missed when I was out on vacation this past week. They gave me plenty to do to keep me busy. I only wish that I had some more time in the day to get the work done as I used to but it is nice to be able to follow through with work in a more leisurely manner than to rush through it and feel as much pressure as I used to.

The sky was a bright red this morning as I was commuting and at the end of the day, in the sky, there was a full moon which felt good to see. yet, sight does not have a physcial feel, yet I like the sound of the feeling of sight.

Blessings. Scott

the first day of the new year

Rolling over from the stomach to the knees and then crawling was a challenge when I was growing up. I had some challenges at that time. Even now that I am mature and an adult, the movement from the belly( old habits) to the knees( new transformed life) takes a lot of time since I like to hang around in the environments that I have been used to.

Why do our old habits die so hard. It is the terrain that we have grown accustomed to and are used to those ways and they are awfully hard to depart from. I only wish I could take a metal spade that has etched dirt marks from the past and get on my knees and dig out the rough spots. In the mind, it is a lot harder to replace those thoughts that just will not leave our minds in peace.