i kissed a boy here once
frosty air
of soft lipped care

laughter danced out
of the roar of a motor
not quite muffled by
a soft sigh

the moon bright
danced on snow’s white
crisp
awoken by the stain
of a red lip

i kissed a boy here once.

“And in the end, it’s not the years in your life that count. It’s the life in your years.” (abraham lincoln)

Happy Birthday baby … love you with all my heart.

“I always watch for the longest day in the year and then miss it.” (daisy, the great gatsby)

“The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing that stands in the way. Some see nature all ridicule and deformity… and some scarce see nature at all. But to the eyes of the man of imagination, nature is imagination itself.” (william blake)

“Some painters transform the sun into a yellow spot; others transform a yellow spot into the sun.” (pablo picasso)

saturday is the longest day of the year over here on the northern hemisphere and i will spending the weekend solstice celebrating the sun even further north than were i currently sit. the land of the midnight sun where it never really sets on that longest day as early morning dusk settles into the air and stays until the sun rises high again. i love this time of year full of yellow light and yellow flowers and yellow dreams of energy and madness of the very best kind. possiblities seem endless as the energy of the sun leaves wakeful dreams dancing in our hearts. a celebration of the sun, of yellow and music and laughter and love.

“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes “Awww!” (jack kerouac)

i will be at north country fair as duke has a gig and i like to get my hippy on and i will be spending some time with my parents as the fair is in the land of my childhood home.

have a wonderful weekend everyone and enjoy the sun!

“They sicken of the calm, who know the storm” (dorothy parker)

week 3, day 3 cycling log: ouch.

Yesterday morning, I was awoken by the sunshine, blue sky and birds singing so as I packed up my pack for the ride to work, I pulled out the yellow slicker poncho that seemed to be taking up more room than necessary. Quite unnecessary, I determined. Afterall, I needed to make room for the yummy homemade museli I had made the night before (plain yogurt, steel cut oatmeal, mixed nuts, sliced banana papaya and cherries and a little big of apple crunch mixed together and let sit overnight, yummy and healthy).

It was a good ride, I have not missed a day since I started and it feels really good to race to work, the wind at my back, the air on my face and the views of lush river valley greenery. As the day went on, I noticed the sky beginning to cloud over and I thought how wonderful, it will be a nice cool ride home.

Soon, the sky turned black much like the photo above and as I was leaving work, I looked down and noticed how dark it had gotten, cars had their lights on even and trees were swaying the most alarming manner.

By the time I had unlocked my bike from the rack and gotten out of the bike cage, the rain had begun to pelt down. I looked at Duke. Duke looked at me. What could we do but go forward. The rain was cold and hard and relentless, the winds were fierce and puddles of water littered the way in mud splashed slickness. Lightning and thunder flashed and drummed overhead and my legs burned in a way that caused numbness in my mind, the only goal biking on and getting home.

It was strangely exhilerating and more than a bit scary but I have to say that after about a half an hour of riding, I felt incredibly triumphant riding through our back alley and putting the bike into the garage, water dripping off of me as I sloshed into the back door, stipping before I even got to the bathroom. Shivering cold soon warmed in flannel and hot cider, I felt as though I had really done something. And I had. I hadn’t let the crazy elements beat me ~ I had carried on, pushed my physical and mental self and emerged just fine. About 35 minutes after getting home, the sky cleared, the birds chirpped and the sun danced down on the wet soaked earth and I laughed.

This morning, I looked outside at the bright blue sky, the sun glistening through the trees. I looked at the yellow slicker and thought nah … I don’t need it.

2:05 pm: um. the clouds have filled the sky again but they look much lighter and puffier than yesterdays … so far … eek!

5:43 pm: darlene: 2 storm: 0 ~ It started raining as I was unlocking the back door. yeah, i did a little dance and cheer that i missed the wet stuff today.

It has been a very long time since I’ve been tempted to do a meme but I have been seeing this one absolutely everywhere and the more I see it, the more I love it!! I was finally tempted by this lovely blogger.

Here’s how you play:

type your answer to each of the questions below into Flickr search.
using only the first page, choose an image.
copy and paste each of the URL’s into the mosaic maker over at FD’s image maker.

The questions:

What is your first name?
What is your favorite food?
What high school did you attend?
What is your favorite color?
Who is your celebrity crush?
Favorite drink?
Dream vacation?
Favorite dessert?
What do you want to be when you grow up?
What do you love most in life?
One word to describe you.
Your Flickr name.

1. Happy Happy Birthday to Darlene-(Luv-2 flickr), 2. kabuki facial, 3. Mount Mitchener, Alberta, 4. Sunny Side Up, 5. Dr. House MD Caricature Hugh Laurie, 6. Blue Water Skinny Dipping…, 7. San Francisco de Asis, 8. raspberries, 9. The Photographers, 10. LOVE, 11. Vibrant Pink Balloons, 12. 021

“No kind action ever stops with itself. One kind action leads to another. Good example is followed. A single act of kindness throws out roots in all directions, and the roots spring up and make new trees. The greatest work that kindness does to others is that it makes them kind themselves.” (amelia earhart)

as i have begun to feel more connected to myself, to my family, to my environment, i have noticed that there is a lot more kindness in my life, a lot more gentleness. every morning as i pull my bike out of the garage and smile at the blooming roses and take notice of how my garden is growing, vegetables shooting off flowers and spreading their branches outward, i smile inside and feel that all is right with my world. the smile dances through my days and my connections with people grow deeper and i find myself surrounded by family and friends and the realization that i am truly blessed. perhaps all the tragedy in my life has brought me to this place, this place that sighs content inside, this place that is full of possibilities, this place that feels rooted in life.

it feels good to feel this quiet happy and it feels good to pass along the roots of kindness. sending all who read this a bit of kindness and a smile today.

dear neighbourhood,

thank you for you and your big elm trees and cute vintage and historical houses. thank you for welcoming me with apple blossoms and white picket fences and friendly dog walkers and shade from the hot sun. thank you for incredibly lush soil and artistic intent, for independent businesses filled with art and books, organic food and history and care for the environment.

its been two years since we invested in your streets and i have never felt more at home anywhere in my life. thank you for a salt water pool, a river valley and fields of schoolyards. thank you for being close enough to the downtown core that i can bike to work but far enough away that birds and song fill the air with sound.

i am so glad to have you in my life, to be able to wander your streets and feel at home in your embrace and i look forward to a summer spent in that hug.

thank you for being you,

dar

“Later that day I got to thinking about relationships. There are those that open you up to something new and exotic, those that are old and familiar, those that bring up lots of questions, those that bring you somewhere unexpected, those that bring you far from where you started, and those that bring you back. But the most exciting, challenging and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself. And if you can find someone to love the you you love, well, that’s just fabulous.” (sex and the city)

i started watching sex and the city shortly after my seperation and consequent divorce and i have to tell you that those girls got me through some of the darkest days of figuring out my life. i didn’t have a girl posse of my own and i still don’t but i think i am starting to come to terms with the fact that there is a reason why there are so many men in my life and maybe that is not the worst thing in the world. i recently heard from an old friend who lives across the world and he is going to be here for a while and i am excited to see him, to catch up on his life and to i know without a doubt that though we haven’t talked in years that it will be easy and wonderful and there will be laughter and depth and good conversation. i remember years and years ago, an email i received from him from halfway across the globe ~ he said that he had recently caught this show called ’sex in the city’ and that the character of carrie reminded him of me and that if i hadn’t see it, i should watch it. it made me smile because i had just that week watched my first episode.

i went to see the movie on the friday it opened and was delighted to see a theatre filled with women friendships though true to form i was there with my best friend, my husband, a man. it somehow seemed to sum up my life as i watched (and no i am not going to go into any sort of review of the movie, there are enough of those out there) a movie about love and relationships and the enduring nature of girlfriends and there i was with a guy. most of my best friends are guys, always have been, still are. i sometimes think there is an ache in my heart for all the times i tried and failed at having meaningful women friendships, they are strewn across the highway of my life. sisters that never lasted for one reason or another.

“Sometimes you put walls up not to keep people out, but to see who cares enough to break them down.” (anon)

in my life, it has seemed to be only the guys who are willing to break down those walls or even see that they are there. i realize that i come across as a strong women and friends and acquaintances are always amazed to realize i have a slew of insecurities a mile long but those insecurities don’t run my life. i live by the contradiction that is life. i love women, everything about them and yet i find myself surrounded by men. its not so bad i suppose and i should just accept it for what it is and realize that i am loved by many and that is a beautiful thing.

there are days when i think about the fact that the women in my life are few and i wonder why and then inevitably i wind up thinking about my sister and how much i miss her. we had a heart bond that could only be broken by death and i could always talk to her about anything even if she couldn’t fill the spaces with words of her own. she talked with her eyes and her heart. my sister was born with a severe form of cerebral palsy which required wheelchairs and catheders and constant care. she was born when i was seven and i was so excited, i wanted a sister so badly and while she wasn’t a sister that i could run with and dance with and do cartwheels on the front lawn with, she was a sister that i could hold and snuggle with and whisper secrets in the night and she could talk in i way that i cannot describe because it didn’t require words only looking deeply into each other and understanding.

maybe that is why i have so many close male friendships, sometimes there is that same understanding without ever having to verbalize it. i don’t know. i am rambling really.

there are days, when i still long for those kind of female friendships that endure the years of time, that endure tragedy and success, change and revelation, youth and aging and who knows maybe forty years from now, i will look back and realize that i somehow managed to find and hold on to that, i am ever hopeful. i still like seeing a group of women, grey haired skirt swaying smiling wrinkles laughing together and knowing that they have held each other up through the tears and the pain, it always makes me smile a little wistfully and a little joyously.

i don’t know why i ended up going down this route. i meant to write a light fluffy post about sex and the city and new cute shoes and love and laughter. i suppose i ended up here for a reason, sometimes it is good to just let yourself talk, isn’t that what blogs are for and then i remember all my beautiful blogging sisters, some new and some who have been around for years and i think that even though we can’t all sit in a cafe and laugh and cry together, we have done that here and there, and perhaps in my own way, i have that friendship and acceptance that i have always sought. gosh. i really love trains of thought and i really do love this blogging community.

i hope its sunny where you are this weekend! it is going to rain here all weekend and i am more than okay with that as i fully intend on doing some house cleaning/decorating and a whole lot of reading and movie watching relaxation with a little farmer’s market thrown in for good cooking measure. happy weekend and smooches to all my bloggy girlfriends.

“To be a cyclist is to be a student of pain….at cycling’s core lies pain, hard and bitter as the pit inside a juicy peach. It doesn’t matter if you’re sprinting for an Olympic medal, a town sign, a trailhead, or the rest stop with the homemade brownies. If you never confront pain, you’re missing the essence of the sport. Without pain, there’s no adversity. Without adversity, no challenge. Without challenge, no improvement. No improvement, no sense of accomplishment and no deep-down joy. Might as well be playing Tiddly-Winks.” Scott Martin

The subway station is now a nostalgic sight only to be found in my photos. I have begun the bike commute and it is incredible beautiful to be racing to work, the wind in my face, the smell of lilacs and blossoms and greenery, the sun shining down. It is also incredibly painful because I never do anything halfway, no, not me.

I am up with the birds, starting an exercise regime which includes swimming on monday, wednesdays and fridays and running and doing stairs in the valley on tuesdays and thursdays ~ I am doing this with my son so its a fun get in killer shape bonding experience, did I mention that he is a very fit almost fourteen year old, yeah. ouch. I am continuing my weight sessions three days a week during my lunch hours but have let go of my two day lunch hour cardio sessions for now.

I started working compressed work week hours which means being at work earlier and working later so I can have every second friday off. So worth it. I am adjusting to the longer days and the early mornings.

But. There is always a butt and I do mean butt. so sore, so incredibly sore .. unbelievably sore. am hoping to develop some sort of cycling butt callous soon. eek.

In all honesty, it feels fantastic to be really doing stuff again, to be pushing my body. Its been a while since I’ve developed this sort of routine that was standard in my old life, my pre-life … the life before all the grief of loss poked her head in and rendered me a couch potatoe. I have always been fit and I always loved to exercise, to push my body to the max, to feel the burn and high and energy pulse. I realized that sore butt aside, I feel really good doing all this again. I feel like me and that is such a good feeling.

Grief is a funny thing, it knocks us down and shakes our very foundation. It leaves us lost and wandering in the dark looking for ourselves. And then one day, there we are, changed and evolving and yet somehow still the same only perhaps more aware. Maybe its a combination of loss and growing older but I feel as though I know myself and love myself more than I ever have in the past. I want me to succeed at this crazy thing called life. I want to engage in it fully. Somehow, a little things like changing my commute from the overcrowded subway to the wide open air of biking, has given me a whole new beautiful engagement with the world around me and with myself. Good times.

“I would recommend the short story form, which is a lot harder to write since you have to be so careful with words, until there is plenty of time to doodle through a novel.” (anne mccaffrey)

i haven’t been writing a lot lately, my words seem to slip through the cracks of my thoughts. i also haven’t been painting or drawing much, my hands prefering to help nature with her colours in my garden. but i have been doodling, a lot. pen and ink stains on bits of paper, sticky notes and work agendas, notebooks and smudges in the sand. i think doodling is a way of relaxing and letting your brain wander around on its own without a push in any direction.

as june smiles down on me and i see a full calender made fuller by my crazy early morning exercise schedule, i suspect there will be more doodles and i am somehow okay with that. i love this time of year when my energy is high as the days get longer and longer and longer still.

happy doodling.