Monday, June 27, 2011

Indie Businesses

I like supporting independent businesses as opposed to chains when I can, especially when they rock! I panicked the other day when I finally realized that about the only book store in town is Barnes & Noble. No longer are those little book shops on the corner. Amazon has done away with them.

Coffee shops are somewhat different in that they still exist and won't be replaced by online businesses. I love Starbucks and all it offers, but the absolute best latte in Tulsa comes from an independent shop called Cafe Cubana. So dreamy, so creamy, and it comes with a little design on the top. Even their machine is great! What a cadillac! You won't see this at Starbucks!

Sunday, June 26, 2011

Blowing in the Wind

I went to church this morning and as I got out of my car, I saw something that I hadn't seen in such a long time. Items on a clothesline, blowing in the wind. Wow, did that take me back. Hanging out the wash and bringing it in was a simple rite of passage for me. A lot like getting to iron the pillowcases and handkerchiefs. It makes me wonder what today's equivalent is for girls, say, 5 and 6 years of age.

I can remember feeling so proud, so big, "getting" to help with the laundry at age 5. How I loved standing on the 55 gal. barrel turned on its side, balancing and putting clothespins on the small items. (That barrel is another story. The best backyard "equipment" ever!)

One night when I was watching Lucy, we were looking for something in her mom's cosmetic bag. Lucy pulled out the eyelash curler, held it up and said with such longing in her voice, "I've been waiting my whole life to use this." She was 4.

I wonder what else is on her "bucket" list.

Thursday, June 23, 2011


In two short weeks, my flower beds and garden areas have grown wild. The heat has supercharged the things that could stand it and has intimidated everything else. The delphiniums, early on so brilliantly blue, are gone for the season. The daisies are in fine form but the cone flowers fight a strangling wild vine for breath. The area around St. Francis that was so clean and calm is now a nest of messiness. Tall grasses and wild seeds fill empty spaces and I feel overwhelmed and exhausted just sitting and looking out it. On top of everything, it's hot. And by hot, I mean really hot. I mean Africa hot. Three showers a day hot. Ugh.

Just two weeks ago, I felt such optimism for my gardens. Now I don't know where to start. In many ways, I feel as if my life resembles my garden. My art supplies are still in boxes and plastic tubs. My work space is messy and cluttered. My diet and exercise routine are in shambles. Two short weeks. A weed here, a weed there. And it's out of control. Sometimes it's not even a weed. It can be something beautiful that is in the wrong spot. Wrong place, wrong time.

My garden may have become overgrown in two weeks, but my art weeds have been longer in the making. I don't know exactly why I lost myself. I can look back and see when I stopped writing, when I stopped creating. I just don't know why. Maybe it doesn't matter. I seem to think it matters because surely if I understand it, I can undo it. If I understand it, I can learn how to weed my life.