A Woman On The Verge

thoughts and musings of my mind



Mending fences and making friends

055Creating and reliving memories is always bittersweet. I flew home this week to see my family, visit with friends and attend a High School Class reunion.  I collaborated with the chair of the reunion committee to plan this one with my major being Social Media and creating the slide show.  I spent a month walking down memory lane as I created the 10 plus minute slide show for our reunion; Lots of smiles and a few tears. It was also a massive learning experience, because up until a month ago I have never really used PowerPoint to do anything, and with the last touch today of creating a video of the slide show there are just so few words to use in how I feel about it.

I knew that this was the reunion where I wanted to spend some time mending a few fences and to stop being so hesitant to talk to some of the people I spent at least four years learning together. Since I have begun embracing my introversion I knew it was time. It was a great experience; I actually apologized to a former neighbor for an incident on the bus in 8th grade. I also spent time talking to one of my former classmates about his job and it was fascinating, to do the things and go to the places he has visited, it is a dream I hope to someday remedy although perhaps not when they are dropping bombs around me. But by far the best part of the reunion was reconnecting with people who I spent a great deal of time with during and after high school.

I also met a friend in person who I have gotten to know online for the past six years.  I had so much fun with her. I regret that it took us six years to meet in person and that I couldn’t see her more often.

Oh and while I have been home visiting my family and getting around town without a rental car. I discovered this great little service called Lyft, it is a ride share type program and so much better than a cab. I know we have it at home and who knows I may figure out ways to use it there too. I felt so cutting edge utilizing this community based service.

.  044

Rams Forever


Winter Flashback

It was garbage day today and we are experiencing a torrential rain.  There is water everywhere, my backyard always begins to resemble a small swamp when it rains, right except for a bit of lawn close to the house everything else is under water. I also have a small creek running down the middle of my driveway.  When I got home tonight I dreaded going back out to get the trash and recycling bins, but I knew if I didn’t it would only be worse tomorrow morning, or probably tomorrow night.  So I donned my gloves, wrapped up to keep the damp off and ran out to move my bins back to the house.  It was so wet my boots got soaked and my gloves needed a bit of wringing out.  I decided to hang them on a heater vent, which reminded of grade school when our teachers would let us put our shoes on the radiators so they could dry out.

At my elementary school very few children rode the bus, most of us walked.  I loved walking to school when it rained because you could jump the puddles, play in the storm water ditches and splash each other for nearly a 1/4 of a mile before you got to school.  Clearly we were out of our minds as children to behave this way, but we were young and the world was far more innocent. As a result of this close proximity and that there was a lot of water many children were soaked to the bone.  Honestly I do not know how our teachers coped with us, the interesting side note is I don’t think any of us were ever that sick, we were a hardy little group. So while we sat eagerly in our desks learning, our shoes and perhaps gloves and hats all adorned the radiators drying through the day until lunch when we went down to the cafeteria to eat. We didn’t get to have recess outside in the rain so there was no chance of us getting our clothes or shoes wet once we were in the building for the day.  We had our recess time in our classroom, and I looked forward to those days of spending time in the warm and slightly steamy classroom.  For some reason it is memories like this which make me happy.

glovesWhile my heating vent isn’t quite as fancy as the school radiator it does the job.

Camping is a great memory, never a good reality

Let me tell you about camping.  I loved it when I was a kid. I loved going hiking up in the mountains, setting up the tent and cooking out in the open.  I still like those parts some, but the reality for me is I can not stand sleeping on the hard ground and being dirty much anymore.  The sad thing is I really came to realize this when I drove from Seattle to North Carolina and found that camping was just not so  pleasant.

Don’t get me wrong, I have great memories of camping all the way through my last year of college.  I remember the year people in my dorm went camping on the Sunshine Coast of British Columbia, we put up our tents on the sand for the weekend. It was great.  The sun was shining the whole time and it was just beautiful.  I didn’t mind that there was no running water, sand was in everything and that we had to pack in all that we brought with us.

I even remember week-long camping trips my dad and step-mom would take us on.  We would hike 5 or 10 miles into the Cascade Mountain back country and camp near a river or lake for the week.  I was ten, I thought it was great.  The woods were our playground. I didn’t bring books with me back then so I know whatever us kids were up to it was playing in the woods or swimming in the water.  Oh the water was wonderful, it was usually really cold because it was snow melt.  Although right now sitting in an 80 degree house a lake of snow melt water sounds glorious.

One of my favorite camping trips was with my friend Jeff.  We hiked up through this ridge full of fireweed, it felt like you walking through a Monet painting.  After coming down off the ridge we meandered up another trail to meet up with the Cascade Crest Trail for a short bit, before pitching our tents on a rock jutting out over a small glacial lake.  We spent four days up there and actually met some rather interesting people.  That was the penultimate camping trip for me.  The last one was when I was coming to North Carolina and I ended up giving up the tent for a hotel room about halfway through the trip because I just couldn’t stand sleeping on the hard cold ground anymore.  Now prefer cabins in the woods up above the bugs, snakes and cold ground. They must have beds, running water and screens on the windows, because I really hate the bugs out here in North Carolina.


I truly feel that some people really need to think about the consequences of their actions.  

Yes, you might get your way, but was it really for the best or did it just make you feel better?  

Do remember that to every action there is an opposite reaction, and you may not like it in the end. 

Just so sad really.

So this is my 100th post.  I am amazed I have kept up with this over the past year and a half.  Maybe because I didn’t force myself to blog every day.  I have enjoyed my first 100 posts and I hope you have as well.  I love writing and really hope you all don’t mind that my blogs are a bit random.  I know people enjoy my photography, those get the most attention.

So with spring well and truly here in North Carolina I have worked around the house a bit, mostly outside.  I am too terrified to start another painting project.

I have gardened.  Removing Irises from one bed and moving them to another.  Well the replanting has not begun yet, but maybe next week.

I am still working on reading Scott Peterson’s book, Let The Swords Encircle Me. Even with a degree in History I am really slow reading Non Fiction.  I vowed when I finished my MA that I would never get involved in something where I had to read nonfiction for an assignment, because it could take me a year to finish the book.  Yes I know I read a lot, but I can only manage a few dozen pages of a nonfiction book before I need a break. The book is fascinating though, a real look into the mind of the Iranian people.  Scott is a very accessible writer which makes it easier to read the book.  It feels more like a conversation with him and not a massive book about Iran, the revolution and recent activities there.

Everything with my mother’s estate is pretty much getting caught up and taken care of.  Eventually the houses will be sold and my ties with that side of the family will be at conclusion.

One of my good friends is getting married in just over a week.  I know she would accuse me of getting to into finding the right dress and shoes, but I didn’t really have anything to wear.  Plus I am breaking my “no heels” rule for this event.

The Wedding Bells

So instead of doing something grand and profound I thought this might be more fun.

I think I will close with a Poem I believe my grandfather wrote to my grandmother during their courtship

I’m thinking of that island we talk about still.  Daydreaming as it is called. What I see is this:

 An island in the sunset

Set apart from the rest of the world

Where love can grow unmolested

By a nation’s flag unfurled


With beaches of pure white sand

Untouched by human feet

A place where only love

With hatred would never meet


That’s the island I’m looking for

The island I think about

An island of love and happiness

From the hate of the world locked out


But I’ll never find this island

The way I want it to be

Unless the one I love

Goes on this trip with me


The trip is a long and hard one

A real journey for two

It means forgetting everything

Except the “me” and the “you”


There can’t be any turning back

Or memories to change the mind

There can’t be any suspicions

If this island we are to find


For it’s only for those who are willing

To start their lives a new

To occupy this island which

I am describing to you


No, this island is not in the ocean

Nor of this world a small part

This island of love and happiness

Lies right here in my heart


So I’d like to inhabit my island

To live there the rest of my days

With a partner in love and happiness

Who will understand my ways.

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