time keeps on ticking, ticking, ticking...

It is startling to realize that today is the future you prayed for in the past.

Twenty-five years ago today, at 9:45am, I received a phone call that changed my life.
Instantly, changed everything.
From that moment on, everything that i have done and everyone i have met in my adult life would not have happened.
No Traveling Science Program.
No NikCo.

It can be argued that every moment of every day changes your life, that there are infinite possibilities for you and every second you somehow choose a single one so the rest fall away.
Meta-physically, sure. I buy that.
But we all know that there are days, events, moments that shape us more than others.

That phone call changed the course of my life, but more importantly it also changed me.
Three words defined my actions, reactions, choices and, in many ways, my identity for a long time.
A long time.
I can full sense-memory recall that moment: where i was, how i felt, hear the words.
I can barely remember what i had for lunch yesterday, but that moment is as clear as a bell.
Twenty-five years have passed.
A lifetime.
Really, a bunch of different lives as careers and friends and families have changed through that time.

If i met 23 year old me on the street, i wonder if she would even be able to guess that I am her.
Would this chonky, middle-aged woman with two-toned hair and a quick laugh even feel familiar to her?
I wonder if she would believe me if i told her that she survives, that some day she would heal.
And be broken again.
And heal again and be broken again.
Etc.
That she would come to understand that life is an episodic cycle of triumph and pain.
That she would make peace with it and learn how to rejoice the ups and weather the downs.
That the time would come when she didn't cry every, single day?
That she would consciously search out joy and try to help others find it as well.

Sometimes, in a flash of melodrama, i do wish there was a way that i could reach back to comfort that girl. She was so lost.

But i know her and i think she probably wouldn't believe me anyway.

sometimes eyes are not enough

January is bleak, people, but February is even bleaker.
That's a cheery thought, no?
Grey day after grey day, bracing winds - blech!
Oh, it is gonna get worse before it gets better.
It is so easy to lose your sparkle, to get bogged down with the darkness and weather.
      Sometimes it seems like there is less joy, less laughter, less magic in the world this time of year.
How easy is it to just stop believing that the sun will come back, that flowers will bloom again?
How easy would it be to surrender our belief in wonder? To allow the winter air into our hearts and freeze our souls? To become jaded and hard?
   Joy is easy to come by in Spring, full of rebirth and Summer, blazing with sunshine and Autumn resplendent in color.
     Winter is when we must seek out beauty, search for happiness, put concerted effort into finding our joy. It is hard to see in this grey haze so we have to use all of our senses and our hearts and souls to overcome the mid-winter blahs.

It may be easier to give in to the apathy and stay in bed with fuzzy blankets up to our ears, but it isn't better.
This week's quote from the fabulous Newbery award winning book Flora and Ulysses by Kate DiCamillio speaks to me about the struggle to stay positive in this Winter world:

"Bah, cynics," said Dr. Meescham.

"Cynics are people who are afraid to believe."

Don't be afraid to believe in goodness, in happiness, in sparkle ponies.
Keep your heart open.

psssst: a girl might not just be talking about the seasons  :-)

when a bead is more than a bead

When i launched the ReWearables line in 2012 my main motivation was to have a creative outlet that rescued broken and discarded beads, gave them new life.
It wasn't a business yet; it was actually just an item on a ToDo list.
A lot (i mean A LOT) has changed in the past 3.75 years, but i continue to relish saving pretty things from being discarded.
However, yesterday i had an experience that brought into focus for me that the work i do to pay the bills can also be the work i do in an effort to positively impact the world around me.
Whenever someone gives me jewelry or items to use in my studio i offer to make a custom piece -or they can choose something from my stock- as payment.
Viva the barter system!
Kalisha offered me a basket full of  jewelry and she asked me to make a pair of bracelets for her mom's best friends.
Her mom, Stella, passed away last year; in fact, her one year angelversary is rapidly approaching and Kalisha wanted to share something special with these two women.
She supplied one of her mom's favorite necklaces and some pieces for me to use.

If you are looking at that badly lit picture and thinking,
Wow. That is a motley mish-mash of things,
then you are right where i was last Friday. They are nice pieces, but i could not get any sort of vision of how i was going to get them to work together in not one, but two bracelets.
Saturday i cut everything apart and sorted the beads and bobs so that i could get a fresh perspective. In doing so, i noticed that the focal necklace i was using had several pairs of beads, not singles, not groups, but pairs. Just like i was making a pair of bracelets.
A-HA! (that makes me think of the music group; here is one of my favorite a-ha songs)
The two bracelets would feature the same three beads in the center, one bead for each of the friends.

The round lavender beads were the only ones that color on the whole necklace, so they were Stella.
Similar in size and importance, but different in shape and color a pair of puple beads and a pair of pink ones became her two friends.


After a quick consult with Kalsiha i decided to make the bracelets matching, but different: one would be a sleek linear design and the other a chain of dangles. Some matching beads were included on both, but there were also different beads on each because i figured the three friends would have shared experiences, but the details of the each of the ladies' relationship with Stella would be unique.

The only thing i added (besides the hardware of course) was a tiny pair of angel wings as the matching dangle detail on both bracelets to symbolize that one of the friends had moved on, but was still a beautiful part of the remaining whole.



If you are wondering why the pictures are sub-par, it is because both pieces were completed to my satisfaction less than 2 hours before i was schedule to give them to Kalisha so i had to shoot them at my desk as it was rainy and grey yesterday.
She seemed to like them and i told her that i was going put their pictures on the NikCo FB page as an example of my custom work, but that i would wait a few days so that she would have a chance to present them to her mom's friends.
That was at 3:45pm.
At 5:20pm i received this text

If you'd like (to) share as early as tomorrow I was in here crying like a baby so we met up shortly after you left. Both ladies loved there (sic) gifts and said they felt my moms spirit with them "Stella is looking down on us" is what Liz said!

You just know that brought a tear to my eye.
Some days, especially lately as i meander through my own grief, i feel like how i spend my time has no real meaning, no impact on anyone around me (i am sure we all feel like that sometimes) so it was a welcome surprise to realize that i can use my creations to help people and touch their hearts.

what's in my brain today?

My new favorite misspelling of my name is Nickie.  It is so random.
A very nice lady wrote that on my Christmas card.


Kathleen Turner suddenly jumped into my brain last night as i was falling asleep.
Whatever happened to her?


Last week i took a broken chair to the dump and saw this:

It was only 4 days after Valentine's. 

Someone hated it enough to take it to the dump, but loved it enough that they just couldn't throw it in.

You know there has to be a good story there.

I am a lot older than i think i am.
I have now known most of my friends for 20 years or more.
In my head i am really not old enough to have known people that long unless we met in kindergarten.

Speaking of fast time flies, last spring Dash and I went to the library after school. There is a brick divider wall in the parking lot and i had the idea to put him into the "decorative" openings to take a picture of him peeking out of it.

Two weeks ago when we passed the same wall leaving the library, he said I want my picture taken in there. He could almost climb into it himself, but then needed i little help because he barely fit:

 Andrew took me to the Gem and Jewelry Show.
I was expecting gems and jewelry.
There were plenty of both, but he didn't warn me that there would be BEADS FOR SALE, dirt cheap.

Oh, so many pretty beads. Some of them had to come home with me.
Also, this lovely, understated purple ring came home with me as well, thanks to Andrew.


What happens to those beads?
I think we all know the answer to that.
It sounds so impressive to say, I worked hard all day and got 80 pairs of Quirkees designed, plus another 60 pairs pulled for design.

The picture doesn't make it look that impressive though.
That's the problem with creating little things.








In case you didn't realize it, i have been updating my 101 progress every week.


Learning never gets old; i love the tingle of new neural pathways being forged in my brain.
Last night i was reading a book and came across a word i'd never seen before: gainsay. From the context of the sentence it seemed like it would mean " to agree with" but in fact it means the opposite - deny or contradict.
Let's all try to use gainsay in a sentence this week, shall we?
And in case you are wondering, yes, gainsaid is the past tense. That makes me smile and i don't even know why.


There are no pictures for it, but i did use one of the neglected kitchen gadgets that is on my 101 - the electric skillet.  It has not been plugged in for at least a decade, but it provided a nice, evenly heated surface for the pancakes i made over the weekend.
One down, three to go: immersion blender, bread tube and my pop chef.

brain dump

The jewelry show this weekend went well - meeting new customers and catching up with previous ones. 

It was fantastic to put a newly remade bracelet on its owner. 

She had some wooden letter beads from a broken bracelet that she wanted me to salvage so i added two sizes of jade beads randomly, creating a double wrap that she loved.

Last night while i was brushing my teeth i suddenly realized that the ABC Song is to the tune of Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star. 

Did you know that? How did i not notice that before? 

I stood in the bathroom, mouth full of foam singing both of them to verify my epiphany. 

Incidents like this convince me that i should both have a personal photo/videographer to capture the insanity and that i should never ever let anyone see what i am like at home alone. Not sure how to get both of those things to exist simultaneously. 

42 days into the 101 challenge and i am already happy that i have over 2.5 years to get some of this stuff done. It has focused me, but there are still daily/weekly things that i haven't managed to work in yet. It is nice to know that i have the time to ease into some of these things.

Speaking of the 101, #77 is Blog caught up, which doesn't sound hard until you consider that i have two whole vacations to do, as well as pictures ranging from last week to last year to four years ago.

Ridiculous, Niki.

So i am going to aggressively try to clean out the A BLOG photo folder by doing random posts like this one, combining several small posts into one larger one.

Jason loves BBQ - i mean, that boy loves barbecue - so last year he was stalking a local food truck called The Smoking Swine. 

a picture of Kate taking a picture of JP and DJP

When it was at  Catonsville ArtVille the family went to try it. 

My pulled pork was very good, but the stand out was the Slap Yo Mama Mac and Cheese. Three cheeses, two noodle shapes, a touch of heat and goldfish on the top add up to a moni cheese that easily makes my top 5 list, possibly my top 3. 

The only disappointment was that the prices were seriously jacked up for the festival, not even close to the advertised prices online.

The older i get the more i appreciate what a fine job my parents did raising me; I was blessed to have both my mother and father actively involved. 

Recently i have been dealing with people that have no idea how to be adults; self-absorbed and clueless, it is obvious that their parents were indulgent or clueless themselves. Both personal and professional activities are conducted with only their best interest in mind and with the maturity of a high-schooler.

Don't get me wrong: in no way do i think i am perfect. 

Please, on a good day i am scattered, nuts, judgmental and vain-glorious (though honestly, who wouldn't be if they were me?). 

But there are good parts as well and i can see that they were created or nurtured by my parents.

The more i realize how much of me is a reflection of them, the less angry i am with these ridiculous people i encounter. In fact, i kind of feel sorry for them because the entitlement and resulting inability to cope with reality didn't come from out of the air: someone fostered it in them.

So if you are reading this Mommy or Daddy, good job.

This hunk of blue glass was in a garden that was the setting for a party i attended last summer.

Does anyone know what it is, how it was made, where i can one?

I am intrigued by things that defy my explanation.

Does anyone remember the slice of carrot cake that defied explanation? 

It was from The Pub in Gettysburg. Ron and I ate there again during our stay at the Lodges in August. This time i ordered a calzone.

It was the size of a small house.

Anytime something is served with its own gigantic knife you know you are in for an experience. 

Gosh, it was good.

 All four meals that it took me to finish it, it was good.

The Dessert of the Week was Fruity Pebbles Cake.

You read that right.

It also was fantastic and lasted for three days, being the densest cake i have ever eaten. 

As well as the pinkest.

 

he's almost100 for goodness' sake

Welcome to another tale from The Suburban Jungle Book by Nikyard Hipling.
The average lifespan of a golden retriever is 11 years.

Max is 14.

Fourteen!

He has passed puppy, juvenile, dog and senior citizen, but he is still friendly and alert.
And not above trying to steal some of his sister's food.
Unbelievably, he is also still pretty spry.
Well. okay, spry might be reaching, but still pretty darn mobile for a nonagenarian.

Max has plenty of energy to continue practicing his hobbies of napping, pawing the carpet, napping, licking any exposed human skin he can find and napping.

Max in his favorite bed on the left and his other favorite bed on the right

Though not a big fan of steps, he can still get up and down them by himself. It might take a try or two so i always make sure that he has made it off of the porch before i close the backdoor.
One nice weather day i stayed outside to enjoy some fresh air and make a little vitamin D myself when i heard a crazy rustling sound.

Max was stretched out in the yard, paws in the air, rolling around like a puppy.
He squiggled and turned every which way with obvious joy.
There was pawwing and flailing and growling -the happy kind- and some quiet barks that were the closest things to a yip that a dog that size can make.
Sure, he flopped over tired and panting every once and a while, but he'd lay still for a few seconds, resting, sniffing the ground and then launch his paws back into the air for another round.

I have sat Max and his sister Zoe many times, but i will never forget the first time he completely shocked me with his energetic love of the outside.
Since then i have seen him shamble through the kitchen and stumble down the stairs only to run strong and graceful around the yard.
I guess no matter how old you are or how weak or tired, there is still joy to be found in the simple pleasure of rolling around in the sunshine.

feeling the age

This month has been very nostalgic for me as i started college 25 years ago, which seems strange since i remember with absolute clarity going to St Pete Beach on the first night and watching the Perseid meteor shower hip deep in the Gulf of Mexico. There are two friends of mine that i met that day; i have now known Skip and Greg for over 25 years. It boggles my mind.
Even weirder is that today is a double birthday in my family: one of my nephews is 30 and one of my great-nieces is 9. I remember that boy being born; he was my first babysitting job. How am i even old enough to HAVE multiple great-nieces, much less one that is almost in double digits?
It seems crazy  to me today.

rojo zappatos

Do you have any sayings or inside jokes with your friends that have been around for so long that you don't even remember exactly how they came into being?

These are my new red shoes -
felted ballet flats with bows.
I love red shoes;
they make me really happy.


Every time i put on red shoes i exclaim Rojo Zappatos! in a rather loud manner.
Why? you ask.
Great question.


Here's what i remember:
- it was the mid/late 90's
- i was visiting Rea in Arizona
- we had gone to see a huge fountain in the middle of a pond or lake, someplace around Phoenix, i think
- there was a really ugly black duck
- we ended up at the playground, laughing hysterically, calling out  rojo zappatos while swinging

I seem to think we saw someone wearing red shoes.
How did that turn into us screaming rojo zappatos on the swings?
I have no idea anymore.

When i put on these great new shoes the other day i was upset that i couldn't remember the whole story of the rojo zappatos.
 Dang my aging brain! 
Dang getting older! 
Dang, dang, DANG!

But then i realized that the details of the story aren't nearly as important as the fact that rojo zappatos still make me smile, thinking of my BFF.
What makes you smile?

i wonder...

Driving on the Mass Pike i was amused by their sign.

It makes me happy when states do something interesting instead of just going with a boring white rectangle; every place is a good place for some creativity (except doing your taxes...).







Then it occurred to me, Do you think the Puritans would approve of six lanes of asphalt cutting through the forests and metal boxes on wheels whizzing along at 70 mph? 

in my opinion

there is no such thing as lost...

...there are only unplanned adventures that interrupt what you thought you were supposed to be doing.

Case in point: yesterday i had lunch with fTM Felicia downtown then dropped off books at the Book Thing. It is in a neighborhood that i am not really familiar with, but was pretty sure that i knew where i was going after i left the parking lot.
I was wrong.
At some point i made a left when i should have made a right and ended up in neighborhoods that i've only heard of or that i didn't even know existed.
One of the problems with knowing where i was is that i have no intrinsic sense of north, south, east and west; instead, i use the sun or stars to know which way i am headed. That works great unless it is cloudy and you can't find the sun.
So i just kept making educated guesses.
Semi-educated guess.
Okay, guesses.
Just as i decided that mayhaps i was actually lost i spotted a giant carrot sticking through a building.
Yes, you read that sentence correctly.

So i wasn't lost; i was looking for a giant carrot without being aware of it.

it's all about attitude

Friday night i was in a fender bender.
I was making a right turn and had a green arrow; unfortunately, there was a pedestrian in the crosswalk that i couldn't see because all the cars next to me were stopped at their red light.
Thank God i saw him in time and slammed on the brakes. The car behind me also slammed on their brakes, but slid into me.
When i got out to check my car, the other driver got to check his.
We were both shocked but calm (i think i was so calm because i was so shocked by the whole thing). I checked my bumper and declared that it was no big deal and he replied, Are you sure? and came to check it himself. Then we walked over to his car; there was a crack in his bumper and he said I can fix that myself.
As a bit of the shock wore off i swore, There was a guy in f-ing crosswalk; i had to stop, to which he replied, I know. I saw him, while patting my shoulder.
Then we exchanged the Are you okay?s and the Are you sure you're okay?s. I saw he had some girls in his car so i shouted Are you all okay? to them and they all waved at me.
He said, So we're okay? and I nodded, We're okay.
As i started to step back he reached out and gave me a big hug and said It's okay.
The whole exchange probably lasted 2 minutes.
We both made the right and when i turned left to get to my friends' house, he beeped and all of the girls waved at me.
Imagine how much better the world would be if everyone could be as civilized as that guy.
Thanks random guy.

question everything

Last night Rea and I were having a serious discussion about our progress on the Week 1 Get Organized Challenge [read: making fun of things we saw in each other's before pictures]. She asked if i really had a gourd in a basketball hoop on my floor (it is actually a gourd in a lazy susan) and i asked if she really thought she needed 8 keyboards not hooked up to anything (she pointed out that it was in fact only 3 keyboards, thank you very much).
Having now moved every piece of furniture in the studio, swept, swiffered and dusted every inch of floor and wall and started the purging process, here are some of the many other questions that have occurred to me over the last two  days:
What is that?
What does that do?
Why do i have that?
Is there an expiration date on these things?
Where is the hammer i just had in my hand?
WHAT is that?
Why are there so many dead bees under my paint cabinet?
When did i get this?
Why did i get this?
I didn't actually pay money for that, did I?
What IS that?
Did that dust bunny just move?
Do i really need that?
Why do i have my medical records from my pediatrician?
And why were they filed with envelopes?
How much could i get for this on Craig's List?
Where is the pedal for my sewing machine?
What is THAT?
What should i do with this USGS map of Fort Yukon, Alaska from 1956?
What is that smell?
How did i end up with ten orange pens when i don't even like orange?
Does this belong to me?
From whom did i borrow that?
Is the floor level anywhere in this room?
and, of course,
Where am i going to hang these antlers?

PAX

complete randomness

Yesterday it was 86 degrees; today it is 56.
Welcome to spring in Maryland.

I had a show this morning (what idiot authorizes Saturday morning shows? oh, yeah...) and it was the same one where i got a touch electrocuted yesterday. I'm glad that i had to do the Jacob's Ladder again right away cause if i'd had to wait more than 20 hours i might have really psyched myself out. I was so skittish about testing it before the show that TM Chris actually laughed at me at one point. Good news, though - it worked perfectly, just like the hundreds of other times i've done it and no alternating current entered my body.

This is one of the ugliest flowers i have ever seen.
It is huge and kinda impressive in its weirdness.
One of my dad's friends grows them in his cool butterfly garden.
I don't remember what it is called, but it goes to prove that beauty really is in the eye of the beholder because it is quite popular with insects.
Maybe it has UV markings that attracts them.
Did you know that some insects can see in the UV spectrum?
Science is awesome.

When i was trying to remember the name of that hideous brown flower i did a Google image search with the parameters "pitcher shaped flower brown with yellow veins" and pretty close to the top i got this:

Really, Google? Try again.

I do not understand single ply toilet paper.
You aren't saving money or conserving resources cause you have to use twice as much, so what is the point?

I really like red hair.
I don't have many friends who are natural redheads,
but yet several of them have redheaded babies, like this little miss of Oregon Francie's:

Genetics is fun.











There is a new location of Sofi's Crepes in Belvedere Square,

 so now you can grab some crepes before or after your movie at the Senator.
As you can see, TM Katie's flabber was pretty much gasted [awesome phrase stolen from Jim Butcher and reworked to fit my needs] by the size and deliciousness of her Original with Bacon.
I am a bit embarrassed to admit that i've never been to the Sofi's by the Charles Theater -a Baltimore tradition- so this was a new experience for me completely.
I ordered like this Florentine beauty

which was tasty and a homemade butterscotch one that was hands-down the most delicious dessert i have ever eaten, ever.
Just be warned that there is a delectable, piping hot lake of butterscotch waiting at the bottom of the crepe, waiting to explode all over your uniform.

We celebrated Dash's second birthday last weekend and Kate made this great cake.
Yes, the pan did all of the tricky mouse shaping, but she piped on all of those delicious buttercream stars. My hand is cramping just thinking about it.





I've spoken before about about crazy school mascots that we encounter in our travels. Recently we were at a little private school that were the Panthers. That isn't that unusual, but check out this painting:

Is that not the smuggest expression you have ever seen?
He is painted on the wall where we were performing.
I felt like he was judging me during the entire show and distinctly found me lacking.
Oh yeah, Mr High and Mighty Panther? Well, you're... you're two dimensional!

Finally, i understand that we are a litigious society so there are warning labels on everything, but should anyone have to be told that it is a bad idea to put a mechanical hamster on his or her head?

That is all for now.
Return to your regular programming.
Thank you.

being an adult sucks

Family, whether blood or choice, gather for events.
When you are all the same age -like school friends- you tend to mark the passing of major life changes around the same time as each other: several years of graduations, several years of weddings, several years of babies.
Tomorrow is the first funeral among my college friends (Kurt's doesn't really count because we were still so young).
Bruce lost his valiant fight against melanoma.
I certainly pray that this isn't the beginning of a trend,
but it is a mile marker.
We are middle-aged.
In our heads we are all still kids, but the truth is that disease is more likely to reach out, our bodies are more likely to betray us.
That's a fricking slap in the face.
In between doing 4 shows in Virginia today i traded calls and texts trying to arrange getting to the funeral in South Carolina tomorrow afternoon. The plans became more and more elaborate until i finally realized that for everything to come together, i wouldn't sleep for three nights. Not that i couldn't go three nights in a row, but mayhaps that it is a poor decision.
I want to see my friends, want to connect with them and share this loss. I want to hold Julie's hand, knowing that there is nothing in the world i can say to ease her pain, but BE there as a solid presence beside her.
Instead i am taking the safe option, the keep-myself-healthy option, the i'm-sure-that-i-will-regret-this-later-but-it-seems-wise-now option.
And that decision, more than any number of years, makes me feel old and i hate it.
Rest in Peace, Johara Trebb.
Your quick smile and easy humor made me feel safe when i was so far from home.

why do we buy toys?

When kids are just as happy chasing dollar store bubbles and playing with the bottle cap?

Grandma Cass and Dashiell

being 40

This month i celebrated my 40th birthday.
I've been alive for 40 years.
I've reached middle age.
Shouldn't i feel different?
Aren't i suppose to feel different?
Cause really, i don't.
In fact, 40 doesn't bother me a bit.
The only milestone birthday that ever bothered me was 18.
Yes, 18.
18 made me nuts, made me question everything i believed about myself, made me act reckless; basically, i had my mid-life crisis at 18. By that logic, my life-span would be 36 years so honestly, every year after 36 is a bonus year. There is no reason, in my mind, to be upset about The Big 4-0 because it is a right sight better than the big dirt nap.
I was talking to a friend who had been working on a Things To Do Before I'm 30 list and it got me thinking. It seems like a lot of the fun life experience lists are about getting things done before you turn a certain age, like you expire at that age or something. I think that it helps reinforce society's construct that we all have a Best By date stamped on our butts.
Screw that.
I don't accept that.
To celebrate that i am 40, i have constructed a 40 Things to do While I'm 40 list that can be found here. Some of the items i can finish at anytime, but others will take me the whole year. A few items might earn me gold stars, while others expand on resolutions. They all will help me focus on being present in my own life this year.
What do you want to accomplish between your birthdays this year?

all on a winter's night

There's something about a snowy night.
It's quiet and still;
the whole world holding its breath.

 Every branch of every tree cloaked in dense whiteness - 

a frozen ermine coat; the darker bark outlined like leaf veins.

Crystals and flakes fall in dizzy patterns, 

making no sound where they land, 

joining the legions to cover every surface

 and blur the hard edges into soft mounds.

 I am the only thing moving about; 

all the other creatures that share my yard are sleeping or hiding, 

waiting for clear skies and sunlight. 

If this were rain it would be a storm, a violent tempest sending me scurrying for my own shelter.

But as snow, in the darkness of night, it is peace.

Perceptions

There was a brief break in the weather that felt like October around here.
After days of wind and rain and grey it was lovely.
I'm sure we will pay for it come February, but it was nice to see a last flare of autumn before winter settles in.
Sitting outside eating lunch made me consider how how perceptions are influenced by as many external forces as internal.
A 60 degree day in August would be met with sweaters, but in November people weren't even wearing coats.
Last month when we were in Ohio for my nephew's wedding i overheard my brother describing the foliage to his wife back home. They live in Virginia Beach where there are 4 distinct seasons, but few trees to mark the passage of summer to winter. He couldn't get over how beautiful it was out in the country, no matter where you looked.

He said Even the dead corn is beautiful here. 

When we talked about it later he insisted that the corn was a different shade of gold in Ohio than it was in Virginia.
 Though i think that might be true I can't help but wonder today if maybe he was just seeing the same thing in a different way because of the different setting and the festive mood of the day.

 

I wonder if we can will ourselves to see something different in our every day lives. 

(do you see the rainbow in that picture?) 

I wonder if simply wanting to see things
 differently
means that we can.