baby love

It was one of those perfect weekends...you know the kind where you didn't do a lot but then you did oh so very much. I took lots of pictures but they were all family.

these are my favorites:

Stevie's got nothing on me

I'm light-headed and drunk on a caffeine overdose - I've had the gamut this morning: soda, coffee and tea. I can't seem to stop drinking even though I feel as if my helium filled brain will float away leaving me abandoned in this black hulk of my office chair. Everything has this pink hazed look of soft focus and I can't seem to pull my thoughts into any coherent order.

I need to finish up some projects as I'm taking a day off for a change. But....words look like jumbles and papers seem to dance just beyond my fingertips. Is there a cure for this or do I have to ride this tide of jitters and a slightly numb tip of my nose?

Maybe they should clear the stage because I feel a chorus of "Born Free" breaking loose in my chest, elbowing and shoving to get to the surface. And then I blush....I'm a really suck-ass singer as anyone in my family will tell you. I bellow like a wounded moose and my dancing these days looks more like the death throes of some headless chicken. But, sometimes we need that spastic release of shame - the un-rhythmic dervish twirls and Fleetwood's off beat pound of our internal drum.

Only then will I hide back in my office....refusing to show my face and getting back to work. It's only moments away.

nothing much I thought

I thought I had something to say....but it turns out I didn't really. Thoughts seem to be this twisted jumble of wire and synapses misfiring and looping with no clear pattern or terminal destination. I sat outside at lunch today with a friend. We went to a park where there is a pond and on the pond live a family of mutant ducks. They are probably the ugliest ducks you've ever seen with fleshy, scarlet head coverings and dull brown feathers. But with them today, were a little flock of fuzzy, yellow and gray ducklings. cue "awwwwws"

As we sat in the cool, light breeze under the shade of the pinleaf oak, we watched the ducklings - one breaking off from the pack and paddling furiously to the opposite end of the pond. His little fluffy feather ruffling slightly in the breeze he was kicking up. His tiny legs were working and if ducks sweat, I could see it glistening on his beak. He was a superstar, a show-off, a daring adventurer - the Calvin of the pond. His mother calmly watched from the bank until he got further than he needed to go...and she reined him in.

He was happy to rejoin the pack - swimming along momma, happy and joyful. I could hear him talking the entire pass by our bench. I was great huh? huh mom? And yes, I thought how like a lesson this was....learning to break free of the pack and try new things. It seems to easy to see that in nature. I could have sat there another two or three hours. This is the beginning of my favorite time. Will the ducks winter over here or will they fly on once the ducklings get bigger? Will the poor loner duck with stunted wings make it through the winter? Will my loves be okay this year? Or the next.

I think about those things as I sit there thinking I'm thinking about nothing really. I think about a lot in my nothing.

worry and not worry

I sit and stare at my fingernails, well the broken stubs that were once fingernails that have now shattered into white crescents scattered across the weekend. As I stare, I try not to bite and even them off as I once would have when I was six. That was the year my aunt gave me an Alvin and the Chipmunks album when I stopped biting my nails. The urge still overtakes me as an adult, whenever I'm uncertain or nervous and I have been known to nibble a bit on my right thumbnail from time to time. It goes hand-in-hand with the lower lip biting.

But, these broken nails come honestly from sweat and work. Not the endless worry that I used to have. Over the past two years I've become braver and more at ease with myself - or is it that I just don't give a ... ah well, you know - I don't care as much anymore what people think. I'm comfortable in my skin for a change. Hell, I guess that's what it is because...well, that not caring thing again.

There are still worries...but they are better, more precious worries - like wanting the best for family and friends, doing a good job, things like that. Productive stuff. Most of the time....until the monsters visit at 3:00 a.m.

I told myself....I can made do with the cheaper one, it's no big deal. So, it's bigger, heavier...it's ok, really - you won't be able to tell a thing. Boy was I wrong.

The new camera came out of the box today along with the new macro lens. The color is just blowing me away straight out of the camera with no tweaks. This is what I've been missing with my poor little rebel.