Buttercups & the Hula-Hoop Moon

I sit on the curb with a thousand and one things to do and instead I plunder through the sidewalk chalk...
psychedelic and inverted etchings in the sand take form on the blacktop of my street...
inevitably, the eternal waves of the ocean wash away such etchings, just as each passing car throws another clouded puff of chalk into the air...

my audience, sitting on a cast iron table that weighs more than I do are yellow flowers...
like me, they continue to face the skies...
where the sun once was and where the full yellow moon rises hula-hooping misty rings of amber...
and I begin to sing...
'why don't you fill me up?'
I hear her sweet angel-like voice join right in...
'fill me up! buttercup baby...'

Flowers and sunbursts, peace signs and words cover the road before me...
we forgot about the bills to be paid, the calls to be made, the clothes to be washed and the bags to be packed...

No worries.
Just a couple girls, an open road, a setting sun, a rising moon, a box of chalk and a connected peace...

A couple of hours later, another girlfriend told me that I had better get busy gathering and packing for the beach.
I thought about it...
but opted to simply enjoy my moment, right then, there, with her...
as I had chosen to enjoy my moment in the road...

It's all good. I'll get it all taken care of.

Plus, I know that if the jolly green giant were to come down at this moment or any moment and declare
'SkinnY! You have one hour to pack your stuff!' that in that one hour, I would gather all that I needed...
tethered to the moment, tethered to my faith...

Four more days...
until I don't need the chalk to scribble in the sands...

(Artwork compliments of Singleton, Rachael, Skinny and Mother Nature...May the Circle Remain Unbroken)

The Dirt, the Sun and a Field of Free Wishes

My favorite fresh cut flowers were actually weeds, gathered roadside from a drainage ditch and clumped together in a rusty old tin can from the same ole murky ditch.

Maybe a month or so ago, while walking after dark, I came across a field filled with weeds reaching for the stars....a field of free wishes.
I didn't make any wishes, instead I just took it all in...
Soaking up the magic of the moment...
The next night, they were all gone...
blown away by the wind.
If Mother Nature made any wishes before she blew them, I bet her wishes will all come true.

Butterflies and bumblebees, hummingbirds and moths, centipedes and frogs, the neighborhood kids and even the squirrels ... we all love to see fresh flowers bloom.

But maybe, just maybe, the dirt and the sun love them the most.

Flowers...
sweet little miraculous reminders to the dirt and the sun,
that they are loved for simply being what they are and simply doing what they do...
I guess, in hindsight, if I could have made a wish it would be...
that we all could learn to live a bit more like the flowers, the dirt and the sun...

Tin Can Love ... Love Me, Love Me Not

I hadn't been sick.
There was no new love trying to swoosh me off my feet.
There had been no deaths in the family.
Nobody had stood me up or stayed out all night when they should have been home.
There was no glass vase, nor any tissue paper or ribbon.
There was no delivery van at the curb and There was no business card sized note.
No written words.

There was a tin can. A big old, rusty, coffee can.
And there was green...lots of it, along with all the yellows & golds, red & oranges, blue, purples & periwinkles.
They were bell-shaped and pointy and round...psychedelic tongues lapping out, neon fingers pointing down and up, over and across.
They made me nose crinkle... into a smile.
They were wildflowers or weeds...roadside dusters ... and they were the best flowers I ever got.
Love Me. Love Me Not.
Doesn't matter... I loved those flowers & the tin can they came in.

Flowers from a florist make me think of beginnings and ends & not all the good stuff in between... like rusty old tin cans & wildflowers, peace, love & goodtimes.

Pictures

I miss a lot of you very much.... I'm here, just wallowing around in my own world for a bit. I miss the great escape I have found in bouncing into some of your worlds & I just love that I so often learn so much about myself, while reading about you.
Until I get a chance to devote several hours to bouncing around & reading, I thought I'd share some of the prettier & more picturesque stuff from my recent wallowings with you ;)

These are rocks gathered throughout North Georgia by me & my DH. The large white conch shell is said to be about 100 years old. The rocks & shells are all grandfathers.


These guys were happy to join me in the fresh clean water, once everything was all
said & done. Pond has about 13-14 goldfish in it now & one devoted stray cat which lives in the shrubs...of course, the birds and neighborhood dogs love to come visit.



These rocks are so that if a bird should fall in, he might could climb up to a dry spot to take flight from... this heart shaped rock was one of many found so far this year. I knew my collection would come into good use.


The guitar-playing Ski Lodge skillet in the form of a rockin' chicken behind-bars guards the path less taken... the Gerber daisies have made there way, since this pic was taken, into the ground...but my rusty old guitar player still stands at attention.


Finally there's a good old-fashioned night out with the boys playing in the garage. Some of these fellows I have known 25 years & I always amazed at how much we have grown & changed, but I'm more amazed at how much we have remained the same.

The south rocks, the heart rocks and all of you rock... Until Next Time, P&L

Once When I was a Child...

Running the streets from dawn til dusk was what I did as a kid. I never liked staying indoors. I never liked being told what to do. I never liked TV.
Climbing trees, running, swimming, canoeing, catching tadpoles, picking flowers & such...these were the things I like to do.
When you're little, big people like to ask questions, such as 'What do you want to do when you grow up?'
Most of my girlfriends said they wanted to be an animal doctor & the boys wanted to be Evil Knieval. I wanted to be a flower child.
I saw these girls at the drug store & super market with their super-big umbrellas and all their fresh flowers. I knew that I wanted to have their life... sitting in the sun, sharing smiles with passer-bys, and selling those beautiful flowers. What a peaceful way to make a living!
This was my dream for years.
That dream started on Sylvan Drive, before I entered school & it came crashing to a halt 3 houses later, in fifth grade when, I with my siblings took a ride to Goodings in my sister's '57 Chevy.
Things aren't always the way they are cracked up to be.
I still love to climb trees, swim & go canoeing. I still love flowers & frogs & such . I still refrain from TV (although my hubby turns it on the moment he wakes) and I don't necessarily like to be told what to do.
But, my flowers...and I have a yard full of them...they are just for picking.