God Showed up in the thrift store

15 days ago, my dad went in to the hospital to have what was supposed to be a “relatively” simple surgery…. For an 83 year old… The surgery itself, you know cutting and stitching, removal of a kidney and the cancer that thought it needed to take residence in dad’s body. All that went well. But then dad’s tongue swelled up, he thought he’d have some chest pain, and his body forgot how to swallow properly. Note to self… Do not EVER take the ability to swallow for granted. What was supposed to be three days in the hospital turned into 6, along with Puppa being discharged with a feeding tube that goes from his nose to bowel. All this for a man who has never made a big deal about himself or caused too much “commotion”. Even now, as he and my mom’s house is over run with their “Gestapo” daughter, the brother’s, my mom, and any help I can gather along the way, I have not heard one complaint from dad, other than “I thought we were going to get to go have some oatmeal.” This after his second failed swallow test. “My flapper’s not working” is Dad’s description over the phone to his people that call.

If Dad’s “flapper” was working properly, he’d be doing groovy, instead he’s hooked up to a pump 16 hours a day. My brother’s and I have all taken turns running the show; I have taken on the position of patient advocate. It’s all trial and error, I am in previously uncharted territory, and I seriously wonder constantly what the people who don’t have an advocate do. I suspect get sicker, stay in hospital longer, wither away, and don’t go fishing.

Spending a large amount of time in the role of scheduler, Dr. caller, list maker, direction giver, nurse, daughter, mother, and sister…. I’m pretty worked. As my friend Erin put it, “Even if you’re not physically there, you are there.” So I look for God, wherever I can find him. I thought I would share some of the places I saw God this past week.

I turned my head to look out my front window, and there he was in some peach blossoms in the yard next door.

He’s my brother Roy making food, perfecting the medication time list on the computer.

He’s my husband just doing what I say, even when I don’t say it in a nice way.

He’s my brother Pat providing his expertise on stuff I don’t know about and making us laugh.

He’s my mom saying, “Bob, I missed you,” when Dad and I have been gone all day in an attempt to get things going in a better direction.

God came to the yoga studio when I needed to be reminded to just breathe, when my teacher walked on my feet and pushed on my back when I was in child’s pose, or when another gently eased my shoulders down and rubbed my head in savasana.

God showed up at orchestra Tuesday night. As we played Andante and Nocturne from the Rabinowitz Suite, He helped everyone find their correct notes and me smile and silently cry at the same time in the beauty of D minor. He was my buddy Mary sitting next to me giving me insight on what the piece was written about. Brian telling a new person that the only reason he stayed with orchestra is because I told him (Brian) to just play the notes he knew. Brian is in his third season with North Coast Strings. God was here in the Dome when I came home and had Robert was playing something in a minor scale on his harmonica. He’s Irma who vacuumed up all the threads up off the sewing room floor.

God’s the speech pathologist who shares the same name as a friend from fiddle camp. He’s a home care nurse. He’s a dietitian who plans my dad’s feeding and calls to check on us. He’s the Dr who put his feet up on the counter today while he talked to Dad. I took it as I’m going to just sit here, be with you, and listen gesture.

God is my dog, Rodeo, who is so happy to see me when I come in the door, who will follow me around mom and dad’s house if he comes with me, who is happy to let me smell his dog nose, who gives unconditionally when I want some quality dog time on the sewing room floor.

God is my kids who call or show up when I need someone to give someone a ride or spend time with Gramma, so I can be where I need to be with Dad to learn some new thing to help him get better and go fishing. So he can go back to taking care of Gramma.

He’s my brother Giles and his blunt practicality, Giles who is here being Eugene and Giles, because it doesn’t work for both to be here.

He was the wonderful sunshine and the smell of the sea on Shelter Island, as Dad told me about ships and we watched them come and go. He was in my friend’s back yard today, while Dad and I sat under an umbrella, and I could hook up the feeding so Puppa could get a little nutrition to go the long haul.

He was a snail mail letter from Sue, a phone call to my girlfriend Shelly, emails from other folks. He is one of my co-workers who brought in a book to work that I need for a test. He’s an art project. He’s all over the place, even if he decided Dad was going fail his swallow test and I would be pissed off at Him, he still shows up in the most random places.

God showed up in a thrift store in San Diego today. Dad wanted to take the scenic route to my friend’s house. I turned off the GPS, and let Dad lead the way. I heard more stories about when my parents were in the Navy, where my dad worked on boilers, I heard bits about my parents honeymoon. I learned Dad’s first car was a ’47 Nash, named Milou. Part of “the scenic route” passed a thrift store I had seen from the freeway on my way to the airport, never managed to get to it. “Dad, can I just run in and do a quick walk through?” “Sure, go ahead, we’ve got plenty of time.”

Mom was angry this morning because she was missing a yellow bowl that had made it’s way to my house over Christmas time and wasn’t returned. I didn’t need to start my day with someone getting angry with me for something I had no control over. “Mom, you’ve got two others, do you need it right now???” “No, I just want it back.”

I walked up the ramp to the entrance to the DAV Thrift Store. I thought to myself, “How is it that I have never been to this mother of all thrift stores???” I looked down, and there on the shelf, waiting for me, was a big yellow Pyrex bowl. I had no eyes or need for anything else, I was just too excited to go to the car and show Dad.

I have never before, seen the beloved big yellow bowl in a thrift store in California. Today, God was a big yellow bowl at the DAV. Before I left to take Dad this morning, I stuck 5 dollars in my sweater pocket, thinking I would use it to pay for parking. Dad paid for parking. I bought a yellow bowl. I don’t have to look for the one that came to my house. Mom’s happy.

For now, this moment, I give thanks for all the times I got to see and feel the Divine in random places and not so glorious times. I ask for patience for all of us in this situation. I also say thanks for God’s sense of humor. I look forward in anticipation for when He shows up tomorrow.

In Health and Love,

Catherine

It's a Lovey

It's a Lovey.

At the beginning of December, my dad was diagnosed with kidney cancer and learned he would have to have one of his kidney’s removed. Dad and I had just gotten the news at the hospital, I had told mom over the phone, and by the time Dad and I got back home, mom had a bag by the door. Bags, from my mom, by the door, are not an unusual occurrence. What was unusual was how she grabbed me by the elbow and dragged me into the other room. “I have Daddy’s robe and his Merchant Marine jumper, I think you need to make a blanket for him for when he goes to the hospital.” I opened the bag, pulled out the robe, and with it my entire childhood of Sunday morning “dutch-rubs”, Christmas’ with dad in the chair with his robe on, mom with curlers in her hair, and Uncle Walt, all filled my thoughts in one split instant. Next, I pulled out the blue wool jumper. I put it up to my nose to see if it smelled like Puppa, the sea, or mothballs. Just wool. I was happy to see the fabric of both garments had maintained their color for over 50 years. I looked at mom, “I can’t cut these up unless he knows.” She replied, “He doesn’t know I have them.”

Not two seconds later, dad walks around the corner into the kitchen and I blurt out, “Dad, mom just gave me your robe and merchant marine jumper and she wants me to make a blanket with them.” He gave me a Puppa style grin and said, “She took those from me and hid them. Uncle Walt gave me the robe, I guess it has some holes…. and she shrunk the jumper.” I said, “but are you ok with me cutting them up?” He just chuckled a little, I took it as a yes.

I took the bag home, knowing I had Dad’s blessing for an art project. A few days later I was telling my friend Erin about mom’s idea. “That may be the best idea your mom’s ever had.” Next thing I know, Erin’s bringing over a pair of blue jeans that had been worn by my daughter Caitlin for 4 or 5 years, and then by Erin for another 4. Erin had patched and re-patched the pants to the point of not being able to wear them in public. Erin had thrown the pants away, heard about Puppa’s lovey, and soon the soft worn denim called to Erin from the trash, “We want to be used some more!” Erin heeded the call and from the trash returned to my house.

Christmas came and went. All the while the lovey was in the back of my mind. What fabrics would I use, how big was it going to be? What would I use to accentuate the beautiful red patches of the jumper? Red corduroy!! I had decided it would be mostly recycled, soft clothing. Robert donated some shirts, I had other fabrics from my stash that I thought would go well with what the clothing donations, I was assembling a pile of old clothes in the sewing room. Then, I tried on Puppa’s robe.

I walked around the house in it. I examined the holes. Overwhelmed with reminiscence of youth, my brothers, the houses I’d lived in, the dog’s I grew up with, I announced to Robert and Caitlin that I couldn’t cut up the robe. This followed with Caitlin taking her own little trip down memory lane and soon she was trying on her 7^th grade jeans! We all agreed that between her and Erin, those jeans had gone on many adventures, as had Puppa’s jumper.

I started to cut and piece and sew and cut and piece and iron and sew the lovey together. The song by Dolly Parton, “Coat of Many Colors” would pop into my head. The song speaks of a coat her mom made from a box of rags. I think it was appropriate considering Dad’s Kentucky roots.

As with any art project, once I get going it takes on a life of it’s own. As I ripped apart the shirts I thought about my dad’s generation that wasted nothing. The shirts, jumper, and pants, all had pockets. How could I incorporate the pockets without ripping them apart? They seemed so useful. I remembered Sue’s lovey and one of it’s square’s had a pocket. Norma called it a God Pocket. Puppa’s could have lots of pockets and he could hold tissues or anyone who wanted to write him a little note could write a note and put it in the pocket! Or treats!!! Snickers bars!!!!

Initially I started designing the lovey on a sheet hung up on shelves in the sewing room. When it got too big, I moved it to the living room floor. Robert stood over me as I placed the sewn strips together. “That is a handsome lovey.” Having it on the floor gave me opportunity to walk past, move squares around, visualize the size, and let Rodeo, the dog, walk around on it or take a nap on it when no one was looking. Part of what makes a lovey a lovey is having Rodeo spend time on it. Considering he is my constant companion in the sewing room….I sew and cut, he will lie down between me and the machine and the iron, wag his tail when I have to walk over him, and occasionally we have a little quality dog time on the floor, we rub noses and I tell him how much I love him. Plus, Rodeo loves a nice blanket and Puppa. So spending time on the unfinished lovey is his way of sharing the dog love. I don’t worry about germs or dog hair as lovey’s are made to be used and washed in the washing machine.

With the top layer completely stitched together, the batting, backing, and tying process begins. My back gets a little tired getting all the layers just right so I’m grateful for my work table. With the lovey spread out, I have the opportunity to take a little rest on my creation, feel the fabric textures, say a word for the person that will receive it, basically get it ready to give.

You may have asked yourself, “What is a Lovey and how did it come to be?” A lovey is my own style of blanket. It is usually an old quilt top that was never finished and I either found it in a thrift store, it was given to me, or I bought it on ebay. I wash it, dry it, and figure out where and if it needs repairing. I repair any worn fabric or holes with bits of fabric from my own stash. The fabric tells stories and gives pictures of different eras. I like to imagine the lives of the women that made them. Then I put in new batting and soft flannel for the back. A few lovey’s have been made with new fabrics. One was made with blocks designed by all different people for a friend that was undergoing chemo. The name “Lovey,” came to me when I finished my first one. I wrapped it around my body and felt enveloped in its softness and warmth. I thought to myself, “This is a Lovey.” The name has stuck. I have been told, by more than one person, that their best nap or a night’s sleep was under one of my lovey’s. They lovey enjoys going to Baja, to fiddle camp, on long car rides, or just when the kids come home from college and want to keep warm watching television. I also feel they are the blanket of choice for anyone recovering from surgery, just ask my daughter Molly. So, I just keep making and giving them when I feel led. Or when my mom suggests it.

Erin and I have decided that Puppa’s is the Luviest of the Lovies. Yes, we also agree that this particular lovey is one of Mom’s best ideas.

It’s dark outside. I have a nice view to the northeast from Puppa’s hospital window to my left, Puppa and his lovey to my right. People here are enjoying looking at the lovey and putting their hands in the pockets. One sweet nurse recognized 7 jeans immediately. Puppa won’t remember much of this, but I wake him up every hour and make him do his breathing exercises. Anesthesia and surgery can take its toll on the old folks. I want Puppa to be able to return to the sea and the people he loves. I’m thinking he needs a few more fish stories. All, with the help of a lovey.

I hope this finds you and yours having a good day.

In Health and Love, Catherine

All day pajamas

I can't find my favorite blue and green swirl Lisa Hetman "warmy" hat. I thought maybe if I organized my chest of drawers, I would find it and live happily ever after.

Nope, while I was getting rid of old shirts and things and "organizing", I got to thinking about another special project I'm working on. Old shirts of Robert's are going into a Lovey I'm making. I had difficulty last night, throwing away the button hole and button hole facing of the shirts. I figured they had to be useful for something. Not wanting to be acused of being a hoarder.... rather than the daughter of parent's that grew up in the depression... I threw them away. Like glitter for reindeers, fabric pieces were calling to me from the sewing room trash can.

With my dresser organized, a bag for the Goodwill, a bag of trash, and a bag of loved t shirts for a quilt, I started to get my earrings together. They're a lot like Christmas ornaments. Some given by people, some from far away places I visited, it's own little bit of jewelry memory lane. "How could these be useable art?" Then I remembered the button hole strips!! I bolted into the sewing room and stitched a few together. I really like the contrasting red zig zag.

There weren't enough buttons or button holes for all my earrings. I remembered the sewing stuff that Puppa had dug out of a dumpster for me. A grommet hole maker!!!!!!

Now I had plenty of holes for my earring art. I used a chopstick up at the top for stability.

Even my orphan earrings, (the one's that have no sister) are useful now. I grouped them together. I'm kind of impressed with my design. Good thing I don't have a matchy kind of house, I think this organizer is perfect.

I didn't get out of my pj's today until it was time to go to yoga. No, I didn't find my hat, I'm sure it's around somewhere, or in the car that went up to Santa Barbara today with Caitlin. Regardless, I've got a shout out to my buddy St. Anthony, "Hey Saint Anthony, come around. Something's lost and can't be found." In the meantime, I've got a couple other hats, I just prefer my striped one.

Back to the grind of work and real life tomorrow. Hope this finds you having a good day.

In Health and Love,

Catherine

Adios 2010!!!!!!!!!! Welcome 2011!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I hated kindergarten. Most everyone I know loved it, I hated it. Mostly I think because I was only four and a half when I started, I was probably as tall as my teacher so a lot was expected of me, I just wasn’t ready for it. My teacher, Mrs Iwosaki was a mean. One day, I was having a particularly bad day and couldn’t finish my Three Bears puzzle. She didn’t let me have my milk and banana snack, wouldn’t let me have rest time on the mat, made me wait to go to the bathroom, all because the puzzle I chose was too difficult for me. And then she called my mother. “Your daughter never finishes what she starts.” Somehow mom grasped on to this and every time I didn’t finish something and mom was mad, I could hear it before it came out of her mouth, “You never finish what you start.” Maybe Mrs. Iwosaki was doing me a favor in the long run? I think not. I remember the day I graduated from Nursing School, I wanted to scream to the world, “SEE, I FINISH WHAT I START!!!!” I wanted to hunt down Mrs. Iwosaki. I didn’t yell or scream. I just smiled to myself feeling quite proud of my success.

Yesterday was New Years Day, 2011. I don’t have resolutions, but I do have goals and one was to finish off 2010 with a blog post. Mrs. Iwosaki…. Mom…. Here it is.

2011 is finally here. I had high hopes for 2010 and it didn’t turn out that way. I could go on and on about all the bad things starting with the house flood in February, my mom’s horrific car accident, and lastly, my dad’s diagnosis of kidney cancer. Yeah, some bad shit happened in 2010 but now that 2011 is here, I’d rather focus on the good times and the things I learned.

I learned from the flood, that no matter how pissed off I am at the person working on my house…. Even if he or she didn’t finish the job, calling them up and screaming at them on the phone does no one any good. So Catherine, just breathe and talk to someone else before you go calling or screaming at anyone. Kelly, I am sorry many days that I lost my temper and I have used this lesson many times at work and at home since. So… good has came out of it. Now that I got that out of the way, I can go on to the some wonderful things.

I got to see far more of the country this year that I ever thought possible. I had what I refer to as “All Gone To Look For America” (AGTLFA) Three times!!! Each trip involved a different state or some states were revisited. I got to meet up with folks I don’t normally see and I got to have what I now refer to as “One of the best days of my life.” Caitlin’s senior volleyball weekend, we had an afternoon of just Caitlin, Molly, George my son in law, Robert, and myself. Our afternoon adventure to Wave Hill Garden’s in New York started with Caitlin announcing to the car that the weekend was all about her and that if we all remembered that, we would have a great time. We did. It was a wonderful, the five of us in the car, me driving through New York and New Jersey, I had my AGTLFA soundtrack playing, the gps guiding my moves, it was one of those great unexpected days where every song went with the wonderful moments that were happening and I just kept quietly giving thanks at many moments. That car ride gave me opportunity to think and relive some of the other places I’d seen in the previous couple months and the music that had been playing at certain moments. It was the perfect culmination of my 17 years of being a mom on the sidelines at one daughter or another’s volleyball matches. Besides the great photo we got with Caitlin’s camera, I got to hear my favorite U2 song, “One Tree Hill” as I drove back to New Jersey over the George Washington Bridge, the sun was setting I had a full heart and a car full of those closest to me. Yep, it was the best day of 2010.

I can end 2010 now. My end of the year/begin the New Year goal complete, I have finished what was started, I can move on to another project!!!! I’m curious to see what 2011 brings, you can be sure I’ll keep you posted. Mostly I feel good about finishing what I started.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

In Health and Love, Catherine

DIY..... Won't you guide my sleigh tonight?

Yes, blogging takes a fair amount of time. Here it is 12.29.2010 and I haven't written for over two months. Before I close out the Christmas season, I will share what has been a few of my favorite things about this year's Christmas. DIY reindeer. (Do it yourself)

First off, I should give some credit to my neighbor Mila for my "holiday spirit." I had barely recovered from the trip to Baja, which requires it's own blog entry, when I came home from work one night to see Joe and Mila's house, all lit up. For me, it screamed "Santa's Coming!!!!" It put a smile on my face and set the wheels in motion for CHRISTMAS 2010!!!! This photo does not do justice to the brilliant light display I get to see every night. It helps that their son works for SDGE :)

During senior volleyball weekend at Rutgers, Molly, Caitlin, and I went for some retail therapy at Anthropologie. We couldn’t find anything to buy, but we did find this keen reindeer.....With a price tag of $65.00!!!!!! "Holy Crow!" I thought and said out loud, “I could do that!" I snapped a photo with my phone and set it on the brain back burner.

A couple weeks later I read something somewhere about breaking through creative blocks. At the same time I was procrastinating over studying for my ACLS renewal. Fabric, glue, and glitter seemed to be calling out to me from the sewing room.

On a warm, sunny December afternoon, I started experimenting and over the course of a week, came up with a finished reindeer. After admiring my handiwork for a couple days, I gave the reindeer to my neighbor, Heather. Heather loves Christmas and decorations. She also is the one who gave me a giant stash of Christmas fabric one year. It seemed only fitting that he should go to her.

I had found the first reindeer body in a thrift store. I was lucky to find two more at Michael’s. ACLS now complete, in between saving lives and real life, I could make some art for Molly and Caitlin!!!!!

They loved them! They shouted out with GLEE!!! Actually, Christmas day arrived…

My mom, who had been giving her Christmas stuff away, saw the reindeer at Molly’s house and mine.

Yep, Gramma was coveting the reindeer. “Mom, I would have made you one but you were getting rid of all YOUR stuff”. “Catherine, it’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen and if I had one I would keep it out, all year round.” Well, I love a challenge. I found another reindeer body. I want to see if she keeps it out all year.

More glitter, glue, fabric, and mess…

A finished product! I think it’s the best one yet.

I started to think about the "best one yet" concept. I was reminded of the story of Jesus turning water into wine at a wedding. The governor of the feast remarked to the servants serving him that they had saved the best for last. Then I started thinking about my favorite movie, “Babette’s Feast”, and then my brain moved on to my other favorite things about this past Christmas.

Three of my four brothers were at the house for dinner (along with 16 other people). During the week leading up to Christmas I got to see all four!!!! It’s been years since all five of us have been together at the same time. I was grateful to see them all. We aren't really a family reunion kind of family so maybe that's why when I get to see them all it's pretty wonderful.

This is the beginning of "Porterama" Giles, Patrick, and I before Giles headed to Mexico to join his family. And leave his dog at Mom and Dad's.

(Eugene, Puppa, Patrick, Catherine, Roy)

I get from Anthropologie to DIY reindeer to Jesus to food, movies, and my brothers….. It’s what happens when I sit down with some fabric, glue, glitter, old buttons, scraps of ribbon, and a little free time. Stream of consciousness... that only comes from Catherine.

I hope this finds you enjoying some little sweet thing and sets a lot of creativity in motion as well.

(I like this photo because of the artsy shadow)

In Health and Love, Catherine

PS This post is dedicated to Deb Barends who turned me on to the magazine "Cloth-Paper-Scissors" on my last visit to New Jersey. Creativity begets creativity, I think that's someone else's quote, my visit to her house jump started my brain. Thanks Deb!

Channeling June Cleaver

There hasn't been a lot of sun in Southern California, for a long time. We usually get a nice hot summer where the ocean gets warm, you can surf till dark in just your bathing suit, and then fall comes, the kids go back to school, and then the weather gets really good, and there is still plenty of time for fun outside till dark. Well, it's almost November and I'm beginning to think maybe California is the new Oregon? The good news about rainy, cloudy weather, it provides more time for sleeping, eating comfort food made in a yellow bowl.... or adventures in the sewing room. Last week, Barbara Billingsley died. She was more famously known as June Cleaver of "Leave it to Beaver". She was Ward's wife, Wally and Beaver's mom. An American Icon.

June was a great mom. Never got too made, was always polite, didn't use foul language, made nutritious meals for her family, wore an apron, wore pearls. I'm beginning to think that just wearing an apron and pearls can make housecleaning a lot more enjoyable and dinners more delicious and healthy. Uh oh, there goes the mind of Catherine...

Anyway, last week it was raining, again.... it way my day off, and I was trying to think of something I could make for a friend who's birthday was in September... Her day happened while I was busy off seeing America and as a firm believer in the Birthday Season... which means gifts up to six months after or even more are great.... Just bring on the Birthday Booty, or in this case give. Anyway, I like to give things from the heart and was waiting for inspiration. Well, rain, a tired body, and lack of surf provided it. That and June Cleaver on the brain. I'll make an apron!Like I said, I like to give things from the heart. If I can use things from a past garage sale, thrift store, or other fabric store finds, all the better. I sat in my comfy chair and envisioned what was in some of my scrap and salvage boxes. I made this apron with all things I had in some of my many nooks and crannies of the sewing room. The body of the apron is a tablecloth from the 60's that was stained and had a few wear holes. The stains and holes were covered with heart appliques I made using wunder-under other and bits of fabric that I liked. The pocket is a sweet old napkin, rick rack embellishments were left over from another project, the ties and the front belt are two different ginghams that I had in other scrap boxes. I was quite impressed with the end result. So much so, I just had to go put on my pearls and channel a little June Cleaver.All from a rainy day that caused those creative juices to start flowing.... For the love of a friend who will finally get her dream kitchen... All the while I'm stitching, I'm thinking she's gonna feel the love in the stitches and that the meals she prepares while she wears it are gonna be that much better and the dishes she cleans are gonna be that much cleaner. All from an apron!

Next time you start thinking you have to throw something away because it's got a stain on it, or somethings not perfect so you get rid of it, sit back for a second and see if there's something else you could make from it. Or someone else could make something with it. One woman's trash could end up a sewing room treasure.

Thank you June Cleaver. For my love of aprons. My love of pearls. For the countless hours of entertainment you provided when I was sick and got to stay home from school and watch television. With no remote control. In black and white.

Of Visualization, Travel, and Athletics....

I've often told my kids and my patient's, "it all starts with a thought, you've got to visualize it first". Today's blog is dedicated to the Wright Brothers. I went many places on round two of "All Gone to Look for America" and had originally thought I'd just blog every day during the adventure. Life had it's way with me so now it's a week later I'm home, and I'll just blog about each spot as I feel led. So keep posted if you want to hear about Kentucky, Ohio, The Outer Banks of North Carolina, Coastal Virginia, or New Jersey. For now I'll start with Kitty Hawk, North Carolina.See that monument if the rear of this photo? Well that's the point at which the Wright Brothers had their first flight. All something like 3 or 30 seconds. Each flight got longer and longer. Started on hill, now we think nothing of jetting across the country or flying to the moon. I'm not good on dates and numbers, only general ideas, and I am overwhelmed at times to think of how these two brothers figured out the basics of flying, the time and energy and brilliance it took, and where flight has ended up in roughly a hundred years. I mean, all my far away adventures happen because of flight, so I'm just gonna say Thank You Wright Brothers!I was pleased to see that the brothers also required a bit of sewing in their quest for flight. Good strong sewing machine helped make it all happen. Not to mention math,physics and all that other stuff we occasionally think of as kids that we don't need in school.... Which brings to mind why I'm even writing now. As I stood up by the monument, after going though the museum and walking in the National Park, I could envision those boys and all their friends and the people who made it possible, up high on that hill, arms outstretched, thinking like they were birds. I really enjoyed the afternoon at the museum and learning new stuff.

We got home, I went back to work and went back to the business of my regular life, trying to fit exercise into a busy work schedule, laundry, the dog,etc. One day last week, I was in Elia's yoga class. I was so happy to be stretching and moving and doing all those good things. Part of the series of postures or "asanas" moves from Virabhadrasana III (Warrior III) to Dekasana (Airplane). I know that part of yoga is attempting to just breath and clear your mind of everything before and after class, but I'm still a baby yoganini and so I have to visualize what I want this big gyrl body of mine to do, otherwise, I'll never do it. I love the warrior postures in that I just feel strong and graceful when I practice them, in a way that the only other time I feel as strong and graceful is when I'm surfing well or coasting down a big hill on my bike with my hair blowing behind me. So on this particular day, I'm breathing and concentrating, and suddenly, I am back on the hill at Kitty Hawk. The wind is blowing, my face and heart uplifted, my warrior is stronger and my airplane wings are just a little bit stronger. I'm back on adventure in North Carolina, for just a moment. When it happened again on Friday afternoon in another class, I thought, "I guess I better blog."Around the memorial is inscribed "conceived by genius, achieved by dauntless resolution and unconquerable faith". I'd like to add a little bit of imagination helped. At any rate, if you make it to the east coast, have a stop by Kitty Hawk and the museum. I don't have any food places to recommend for the area, just a great memorial. Until the next time.....