Bella's Bath

Ever since she was a tiny puppy, Bella has hated a bath.  Mr. Bryant and I get quite a chuckle out of this, because she is a water dog, with webbed feet and two coats of fur. Her mother loves to swim for hours, and Bella might indeed love to swim in a lake. She has only been to the ocean for swimming. But the bath? Hates it. Everything about it. Every single moment.

At 2 years old, she is a real challenge for Mr. Bryant and I in the bathtub, but really still needs a regular bath.

Enter, the mobile dog washing unit from our favorite grooming location -- The Dog Salon!

These brave ladies bring their professional focus to making our pets beautiful and comfortable right to the driveway. They manage to wash two leonbergers and a pekingese in about and hour and a half.  Junior loves it, and can't wait to go visit the girls in the van. Gizzy could care less, but ideally would be happy to stay in the house left alone. But our Bella? She hates it. She hates every single solitary thing about it. She gives the girls a workout. They can eat cheeseburgers and fries all they want after bathing Bella.

But oh how happy she is when it is all over.  Smelling good and free of fleas, Bella is Beautiful.

Time Out

My husband tells me that I am beautiful, still. Nice word, right? Still. As in, despite it all.

I look in the mirror and see my face falling. Lines around my mouth that I always loved, because they were from smiling so much, now offend me. Lines around my eyes, from crinkling them up when I smile, are equally complicit.

Heavier now around my belly, hips, and thighs, I focus on diet and know that it isn't enough. Working late, I actually dream I am exercising.

When he catches me looking in the mirror in surprise, I say, "I'm old."  He says, "You are not old!" and I think, 'He is lying to me, right to my face.' 

He says "You are middle aged and you are beautiful." And as I look at myself in that mirror, I think, 'So, it has come to this.'

* * * *

I know that Help is Not on the Way, and that it is up to me to do something about my face, my figure, my attitude. Diet is surely a start. I know exercise will come. I know that I look better when I laugh. And that if I really want to, I can certainly explore surgery - although that seems almost too vain. Whatever happened to my thinking about aging gracefully? Apparently that went out the window when I looked in the mirror a second time.

Does every woman - does every person - come to this place where you realize that you are on the other side of some imaginary line, and there is no way at all to turn back? I think I have had this experience with time a few times before in my life, moments of realization, really understanding that I can't back up and do anything over. I must say that I don't like them.

Remembering Sunflower Morning

january sunflowers, 2013

Nineteen years ago in September, Mr. Bryant and I took a sort-of-planned / sort-of-unplanned vacation. We scheduled our time off and packed the trunk of the little red Miata (the suitcases wouldn't fit) to spend a week away, and we started off to New England. The only plans we had were to stop in Carlisle PA for Italian food, and to spend one night at the Molly Stark Bed & Breakfast in Bennington, Vermont. Everything else was all undetermined.

The vacation was a little bit of a walk down memory lane for both of us, as we had traveled to New England with our families many years ago.  We enjoyed the countryside and wanted to share beautiful places with each other.  Carlisle PA was fun and our Italian dinner was fantastic, as expected.  We enjoyed our drive to Bennington and loved the covered bridges in Vermont.  Bennington was beautiful, quaint, and historic - and we liked all of these things.  From Bennington we went North and had a quick visit at Killington Vermont, where my parents learned to ski many years ago.  Then we just started to drive through the countryside, taking northern roads to see what we could see.

We drove through little tiny towns and stopped and took pictures of dairy cows, and talked about everything.  I clearly remember the bright blue sky, the perfect weather, the many smiles.

As the day wore on, we drove by beautiful water and crossed bridges onto islands.  The day wore on and I started to get anxious about a place to stay.  We were driving through fabulous country, but not seeing any towns or places to stay.  We finally saw a country gas station as we were getting close to empty.

They sky was grey and cloudy by now, and I was tired of being in the car.  I remember saying, "Ask about a place to stay, ok?"  and Mr. Bryant saying, "Ok sweetie!"

So Mr. Bryant went into the store, paid for the gas, came out and got in the car without a word, and started down the road.  I was too tense and anxious to wait this one out.  I wanted to know we were headed to a room and dinner.

"Did you ask about a place to stay?"

"I did."

"Well, what did you learn?"

"Nothing."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, there was this older guy in the store in blue jean overalls and a cap."

"Ok, did you ask him if there was a place to stay?  Did he give you any recommendations?"

"I said, is there a place to stay nearby?"

"And what did he say?"

"He said, 'Yep.'"

"What do you mean?  Is that all he said?  What did you say?"

"I said, 'So, up the road a ways?'  And he said, 'Yep.'"

"What?  Are you serious?  Is that all he said?"

"That's all he said."

"Didn't you say anything else?  Didn't you ask anything else?"

"Nope, I didn't.  And the guy?  Well, he turned around and did some work behind the counter.  And I came out and got in the car."

I was incredulous.  I didn't find this funny, I was not happy, I didn't care anymore about the scenery, I must admit, I fussed.  We kept driving, and we saw nothing.  No signs.  No shops. No stores. No place to stay.  I finally stopped even talking.

I frowned, and the car was silent.  And the day was getting more grey.

And then we came upon a little sign on the right side of the road.  Shore Acres.  We turned in and drove down a drive, past big oak trees and around a big white farm house.  There was a motel behind the house, with windows all along and everything crisp and clean. It was beautiful, and there was a calico cat walking the perfect green grass under the trees.  I still couldn't talk - but now it was because I was smiling.  Mr. Bryant checked us in, and we had a picture perfect room at the end of the row.  All blue and white and wood, with original watercolor paintings on the walls.  Every room faced the lake, and the lake was breathtaking.  Lake Champlain.  The lawn went down to the slate rocks and the slate layered into the water, and the entire place was peaceful and beautiful and calmed my heart and my soul.

We went to dinner in the restaurant (they had a restaurant!) and it was perfect, of course.  I do not remember what we had, but both Mr. Bryant and I remember the beautiful sunflowers on every table.  They filled the room with sunshine even though it was dark by the time we ate.  We loved the peace and beauty of this place, and in the morning we had breakfast with the sunflowers again.

Mr. Bryant brings me home sunflowers every chance he gets.  And we relive the trip and the gift of our stay, and our sunflower morning.

Uncle Beard

Lane has seduced us all, right down to the biggest and gruffest.  

He has reminded us how precious life is and has brought us back to our centers, sharing with us surprising moments of delight and wonder.  We find that we each love this precious child deeply, and that by opening our hearts we actually have more love to share with everyone.

Thank you Lane.  You have added to the light in our lives.

Warm

Around here, we simply love our pets. The depth of our feelings run far deeper than just obligation. We welcome our pets into our lives and they become part of our family. They encourage us to play and exercise; they make us giggle and be silly; they make us engage with them - and as a result, we expand.  We come outside of ourselves and grow, thinking about more than our everyday whatever is in our heads at the moment.

Our pets make the world a warmer and more joyful place. Sharing their lives and unconditional love with us, they each give us the opportunity to be better people. They show us the value of kindness.

Our Pinky is getting achy and the cold really seems to bother him. So Grandma June crocheted a fabulous warm sweater for him. It fits perfectly and he loves it, and we love to see him dressed up so nice.

Here's to warm sweaters and joyful days.

One true eye

When last we talked I was learning how to draw a little bit. I had started focusing on eyes, because everything I read said that the eyes were the hardest part.  I got some amazing graphite pencils and read a lot of instruction and followed recommendations  - and drew this eye.

I was really happy with this eye, and decided to try the rest of the face.

That experiment taught me a couple important things:

• First, that I can draw.  And if I can draw, after years of saying that I could not - well then - I can do anything I put my mind to.  WHAT A REVELATION!  I am working hard to allow this awareness to change my life in 2013.
• Second, a lot of drawing is required to be a good artist.  Focus and practice is critical.
• Third,  for me, the eyes are NOT the hardest part.  Instead, for me, it is the nose.  I am not even going to show you my nose work because I have a long way to go to improve my noses.  I have a lot of noses to draw.  :)

Someday I will share with you here, a whole face.  I just know it.

But not today.

Small Masterworks

  

I am always amazed to watch art happen.  The evolution from a thought, a momentary wisp of an idea, into something real and substantive is nothing short of miraculous. Capturing the ephemeral. The genius of creation.  A divine moment.

It makes me lose my breath and gives me goosebumps when I stay open to the implications.

Working with leather, Aaron has made masks, collars, hats, and bracelets.  Someday he is going to sell them.  

I just know it. 

And I want one.  Just sayin.