air heavy with moisture
charcoals clouds smudged against an azure sky—
palm fronds like fingers,
reaching towards the heavens
clawing their way towards the hidden sun
verde blades sprinkled with water droplets
lazy iguanas warming their bellies on the rapidly drying concrete—
thunder threatens low in the distance,
menacing grumbles carried lightly on the damp wind—
a woman in a floral kimono hurries across the lawn
trying to beat the storm,
the sage talons successful at raking into the cumulonimbus
as a torrent of rain tumbles to the earth.
“Tonight, we are young / So let’s set the world on fire / We can burn brighter than the sun.”
“…and she loved a little boy very, very much–even more than she loved herself.”
-From The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein
(Photo courtesy of Brittany Gidley Photography, Cleveland, OH
Copyrighted by Brittany Gidley Photography, 2015)
So I’ve been away for months.
I have no excuses. None. I suck.
I have been busy living life with my friends, enjoying time with my sick dad, and being a mom. Enjoying all that summer has to offer and carpe-ing the diem.
I’ll share some pics.
And I broke my laptop charger last night. I’ll update you all once the new one arrives via Amazon 😘
And a brief description of each photo:
1. Mommy/Son Time at the beach.
2. Playing in Lake Erie.
3. A bunch of pretty motherfuckers.
4. The Voice auditions (I didn’t make it through…their loss, not mine!)
5. Out with my boys!
I smell the faint fragrance
of honeysuckle mixed with the lingering scent of rain
it floats on the humid, yet cool
early morning breeze
birds chirp in the otherwise quiet am
occasionally punctuated by the chirp of the gentlemanly cricket
dew laden grass adds the middle note of rainsoaked earth
this is my nighttime lullaby.
I dedicate this goofy picture to Stewart from MadTV.
It’s been two months since I last posted. I’m finally kind of all settled into my house, I’m liking this living on my own thing…I have been neglectful of this blog because I keep forgetting to buy a modem so I can get Internet. Life has settled into a pleasant enough routine, although there are some parts I wish I could change. I’m attempting to change some of it now, but things have a way of happening on their time and not mine.
The picture I took of this rose reminds me that even in the most vicious of rainstorms, there is beauty.
Today is my dad’s 69th birthday. I am probably the definition of a daddy’s girl. I’m crazy about my dad and I love him to pieces. He’s my best friend. As far back as I can remember he’s been my partner in crime.
My parents are twenty years apart, so my dad was 41 when I was born. His age never stopped him from chasing me in the grass in our backyard or lifting a very giggly and squirmy five-year-old Me up so that I could touch the ceiling with my fingertips (my dad is 6’4″). As I grew older, I loved sitting with him (me on the couch, Dad in his recliner) as he leisurely smoked a cigarette from his green pack of Kool 100 Super Longs and we watched old reruns of the black and white classics–to this day, I still love watching The Andy Griffith Show and Bewitched with him.
My dad would also sit and tell me and my little brother stories of his childhood on his grandparents’ farm in Morris Chapel, Tennessee and of his time spent in Cleveland at his uncle’s house. I loved hearing how life used to be in the ’40s and ’50s and looking through the old photo albums at my grandparents (my grandpa died when my dad was very young, my grandma died when I was a baby) and my great-grandparents and my great-great grandparents. My dad is predominantly Cherokee-American, so I loved seeing my great-great grandmother and her long white braid that stretched to the ground (my dad swears she lived to be 105) and my great-grandparents’ high cheekbones and stunning profiles. He graduated from high school in Washington, D.C. in 1962 and told me about the dark days of when JFK, RFK, MLK, and Malcolm X were all assassinated. He remembers Jim Crow and the Civil Rights Movement and he fought in Vietnam. He’s lived through thirteen US Presidents, from FDR to Barack Obama.
He’s still as funny and as smart as when I was a little girl. It’s hard for me to think of my dad as a senior citizen, because he is anything but. He’s still the head machinist at his job. He still smokes those Kool 100s. His favorite show is The Big Bang Theory. He loves being a grandpa and a great-grandpa (I have a 28 year old niece from one of my older half-brothers. She has a little girl herself.). He still criticizes the Browns every football season (he’s a Redskins fan) and reads The Plain Dealer daily and watches Jerry Springer and Maury every day after work because their insanity makes him feel like his day couldn’t be as bad as those guests’ are. He still encourages me to live my dreams and to keep working hard. He taught me that hard work and a strong education are the two most important things that a person can have next to their family. He taught me how to play Monopoly when I was five (no hotels or houses and I always got Boardwalk and Park Place and somehow won every time) and how to dance by standing on his feet in the kitchen while “My Girl” by The Temptations played on the local oldies station. He taught me to really appreciate music and told me I got my voice from my grandma. I am incredibly lucky to have him as a dad 🙂
Happy Birthday, Daddy ❤
Winter seems never ending sometimes here in northeast Ohio, but it’s little snapshots like the one I took with my iPhone above that make all that snow and cold worth it 🙂
April is one of my favorite months. You are tired of winter and you feel like warmer weather will never come…it rains nonstop for the bulk of the month, but near the end the world looks brighter, fresher. Almost like Mother Nature washed everything with a heaping scoop of Oxy Clean and all the dirt and grayness of winter is gone. I woke up the other day to the trees at the end of my parents’ street in full blossom. Love it!
“I counted till they danced so
Their slippers leaped the town–
And then I took a pencil
To note the rebels down…”
–excepted from “Snow flakes.” by Emily Dickenson
(And yes, yes I took that! I used my phone 🙂 )