Cherokee Sage Woman

Just a quick note before I toodle off to work..

There's an Indie flick out on dvd (or at least a poorly viewed one, if it's out from a major co.) entitled "Unconditional Love" Released in 2002.

Kathy Bates plays Grace Beasley, a faithful wife whose life takes a tragic turn as her husband Mac (Dan Aykroyd) leaves her, and her favorite pop star/lifelong inspiration Victor Fox (Johnathan Pryce) dies. Her daughter in law is a charming dwarf (but that is an aside to the plot). She travels to London for the funeral of the pop star where she meets his lover (Rupert Everett). The pop start has been in the closet all his life.. coming out only in death.
Bates is looking for a way to take more risks in life, because she has lived this 'safe' existance all her life. Interesting happenings..

I loved the quotes from the film, "If I'm not Mac's wife.. then who am I?"
"Unconditional love is loving even when you aren't loved back."

And the premise of the movie..
'Never Regret
Never Forget
A gift from Above
Unconditional Love'

It's an interesting & funny flick.. you might want to rent it.

I haven't ridden on a bicycle for any extended period of time since I was 9. My dad bought me & my little sister Sallye an ugly orange beat up bike without brakes, for $2 from a kid who needed cigarette money (understand that $2 bought a carton of cigarettes back then). The bike was a treasure to my sister & I. We timed each other so no one got more experience than the other. Having no brakes was not a deterent to our hapless practice runs. Sallye is short, so her method of braking was to run into the oak tree in the front yard. That poor tree developed an area of dead bark forever marking that memory. As for myself, I chose the 'drag-your-feet' mode of stoppage, since I was practically my fullgrown 5'8" at the age of 9. Yes, it made for a terrible waste of shoe sole, & was quite excruciating when I was pedaling barefoot.. but it worked for me.
After those carefree days with the old orange crate, I don't recall ever having had a bike again in my childhood.

Fast forward to 1982, and the guy I'm dating belongs to a statewide bike club that pedals its way, in 50 miles per day junkets, across the great state of Oklahoma. Granted, it's just 'OK'. But it sounded so exotic & he had grand thighs.. what could I lose? Oh, about a $300 investment, actually. I bought a nice 10 speed bike, also getting a big fat seat to match my... big fat ambitions. We decided to take it to the south oval of the OU campus.. the trial run for setting all the bells & whistles. I made it about 6 blocks before I surrendered to the call of gravity & laying the bike gently down.. I simply walked away. Jane Fonda could have that burn! It wasn't for me.

More fast forwarding to the winter of 2000.. I am dating a guy off Daytona Beach who lives next to a state park. He has 2 bikes.. how about a leisurely ride on the paved nature trail.. no muss or fuss, or 50 miles to contemplate. I felt way too high up on the seat, but the pedaling motion did come back to me. Slow corners here & there.. not bad, I could pick up some speed. Then OH NO! People-on-the-trail! What to do? What to do?? My reflexes went back to my 9th yr & I tried to drag my feet. Too far up! I panic.. I lose control.. I wipe out 1/2 dozen people.. I yell warnings to others up ahead.. "Run away bike!!"
They oblige me by scattering to the 4 winds. I am looking for the softest place to tip the bike over for a landing. Or in the least, to find a strong oak tree to crash into. The brakes on the handlebars never enter my mind. I am in my limbic brain.. fight or flight, heavy on the flight. After the 'boyfriend' quits laughing long enough to come grab my bike & slow it down to stop w/ his own braking power.. I realize I am not going to be allowed to make a total fool of myself that day. Only 99%.

Slow forward to November 2004.. & the camping mania that has possessed my being for the past month or so. I am thinking I should give biking another chance. I peruse the shiny new ones at the store & envision myself happily wheeling & whistling & whiling my way through the state parks of FL (far away from the one in Daytona which probably still bears freaked out hikers who tell of the legend of the crazed lady biker sans brakes.). And so I talk myself into buying one. 26" TALL! Metallic blue beauty. Gel seat for my gel-depleted areas.
And if I must, I will wear the old stack-heeled shoes.. just for emergency braking.

Why is it that as we age, time passes increasingly fast.. like warp speed after the age of 50. I'm reminded of the bubble gum song from the 60's.. 'Slow down, you're movin too fast. Got to make the moments last. Life I love ya, all is groooovy'' Seems like just last week we were taking the big holiday wreath off the wall & putting it in the attic.. now we have to drag it back down again. Wait a sec, that WAS last week. But the thing is huge & we were in no hurry to take it down.

And so Halloween melds into Christmas. On Valentines Day, we try to recall what we did for New Years Eve.. or did that one slip by us? Society doesn't help us, with department stores stocking the shelves with Christmas gear alongside their 'back-to-school' fare. It all just runs together after awhile. And egads, the nonstop holiday music plants homicidal thoughts in our heads by Dec 24th.

Even so, I do love this season of giving (& getting.) I think Santa is still receiving "gimmee" lists for the 2008 season. So I'm submitting mine.
1) The winning presidential ticket of Hillary & Teresa. McCain for Sec of State.(in case those zany girls need a little fatherly balance)
2) A 55' Morgan sailboat. It's time to initiate my floating hospice concept. Includes the obligatory tan, free t-shirt & burial at sea. I'm calling her 'Into The Sunset'.
3) Retreat cabins in Blue Ridge, Sedona, Key West & Playa Del Car.
4) The Audi TT I've been ogling.
5) Mega Money Lottery, when it's at it's highest.
6) And I'd like my country back, please.

p.s., I will forego #2-5 for 1 & 6.

Metaphysically speaking, we are all authors of our own life stories. Every person, every situation, every nuance, every chance encounter, every high peak of happiness, every sad detail of disappointment.. Everything. We create it all. Then when we find ourselves in the dark morass of deep doo-doo, we act surprised, asking ourselves, "how in the world did this happen?!"
We needed the 'high drama' sweetie..

I am entertained when I read Michael's blog (www.michaelgryan.blogspot.com), & he writes of his favorite soap opera. We are ALL involved in our own soap opera.. everyday. We create the twists & turns, the mysteries, the romances, the novellas, the convolutions of a good 'whodunit'.. all authored by you.

With this premise in mind, how would you entitle your life story?
I'm trying on a few for size.
Like, "Running With The Wolves; My dating life"
Or "The Incredible Lightness of Menopausal Weight Gain"
Perhaps "A Course In Miracles; How I managed to survive for 5+ decades"
Ergo "An Idiot's Guide to Living La Vida Loca"
Hmmmmm.. 'Da Vinci Code; Setting your VCR'
'Who Moved The Cheese; a consumers guide to ridding flatulance'.
You know, the list is truly endless.
So how would you title your life?

For today mine would be, 'Girlfriends, I Am Blessed!'
Have a happy Sunday. Is it naptime yet?

These are gorgeous 'primo' days in Florida. The few pristine days of our illusive autumn weather. 60's at night, low 80's in the daytime. Sounds like year round fare here, but the bonus is in the lower humidity. Yay! Breathing is no longer a chore.
And so for this blissfully blessed day.. I'm going to be outdoors repotting plants, weeding the flower beds, & watching Dan put up a stone facade on the house.
I have fed the cats, the birds in the backyard, & peanuts to the squirrels. My responsibilities are completed. I'm officially a weather junkie today.
Hooray for the week-end!

"Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message, He Is Dead
Put crepe bows round the white neck of the public doves
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West
My working week and my Sunday best
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song
I thought that love would last forever. I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now, put out every one
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods
For nothing now can ever come to any good."
__W. H. Auden