dazzle me, LV

so, it wasn't the million dollar art work (shown here) or the fake volcano show, and it sure wasn't the gambling that got our blood flowing. but it was the malaysian home-cooking from an old friend and catching up a little that dazzled us indeed.

restless wind

texas in all her glory

characterful cabin

it's ready, all except for the front screen door. and the fence needs to be put up, so sophie can visit. mom has settled in, with some adjustment time taking its toll on HSP me. but there's a mountain in back and a meadow off to the side, and as i sit on the back porch between moving of boxes and furniture and sorting through WWII letters, i remember the plans of a cabin built around a meadow. this tiny, simple house was well planned with special touches here and there for ease and joy. i wish my father could see it, this house built atop his abandoned fruit tree orchard. We were all amazed when the pear tree decided to bear fruit this year after so many years. And as i pass it, i wonder, "is that you, dad?"

good bye, victor

Annie Dillard wrote in Pilgrim at Tinker Creek: The world has signed a pact with the devil; it had to. It is a covenant to which every thing, even every hydrogen atom, is bound. The terms are clear: if you want to live, you have to die; you cannot have mountains and creeks without space, and space is a beauty married to a blind man. The blind man is Freedom, or Time, and he does not go anywhere without his great dog Death. The world came into being with the signing of the contract. ...this is what we know. The rest is gravy.

But Victor had little freedom and time and i say the contract seems kind to me and unkind to Victor. But i also know that Victor would hold no resentment towards me. He took what he could from life. He grabbed the best and the most from those all around him; his friends and family were his mountains and creeks, and he would say he was blessed.

This life after Victor's death seems not so much a cliche' of valuing life more but a pressure-less leaning to live well, to be calm and content with the things we have done. To hope and plan for things to come. To hold on to our blithering emotions and love who we are--not always connected by purpose but always by a mutual destination.

how i spent my summer vacation

ellis island

"here is not merely a nation, but a teeming nation of nations"

preface, Leaves of Grass, 1st Ed, Walt Whitman, 1855

meadow-cow-river: south-east-north view

clear river

porches

me and porches go back a long way. my inspiration for this attachment probably goes back to my favorite movie, to kill a mockingbird, with scout and atticus swinging on their front porch and talking about things that matter. my mom's riverside porch swing keeps me at peace with myself with the rhythm of the chain clanking against chain as i gently glide my feet back and forth to keep moving. and as we build the little cabin for my mom across the street, its essence is the porch that looks out into an open meadow with sometime cows and always wide open space. i guess the house was built around the view. and there will be a front porch, too, to watch the old homestead and the river goings-on. we need entry ways to secure our inside where we guard our secrets. but the porches themselves are there for all to see and for those lucky enough to sit a while, looking out from them, all can see us. it's all about openness, i think, this draw i have towards porches. or maybe i am guarding my secrets, keeping watch, enjoying someone else's openness. there will be rocking chairs and swings and time to figure it all out someday..on my porch.

images of leaving