"what a wonderful world" (It could be)

There are sights and colors I can barely believe  I am lucky enough to see. 

There is so much beauty in the world. 

And as I watch a street vendor chase his escape-artist toddler across the sand and scoop her up for an "airplane" ride back to his stand...

There is so much potential for joy.

There is more than enough for each of us in this world. Even now. If we could just love, help, and be kind to each other, what an absolutely wonderful world this could be.

Pic: Sunset over the sea and El Arco from our room. 

#LaterPost

"the days are long"

Cabo, San Lucas. 

Our wristbands are an open sesame to restaurants, bars, pools, clubs, spas, and tons of activities. 

All we've been doing is taking long walks together, carrying margaritas back to our room, napping, and figuring out our next restaurant every couple of hours.

And then when Big A is resting, I'm grading, monitoring my online class, liaising with colleagues, and answering emails.

I guess I can do this! (For another couple of days!)

Pic: We have funny elongated shadows!

#LaterPost

"not blue, not blue"

Oh, the haze of the late afternoon sun, sky, sea, and being able to sink my toes into grainy, coarse sand. 

I can feel my blues lifting...

I found six tiny sea shells--one for each person in our family... And they might be the only tangible keepsakes I bring back. 

Pic: The view from our first hotel.

#LaterPost

headed out

Big A's big medical appointment is next week, and we hope to find out what's going on/why he's losing weight/what to expect in the future/what we can do/etc. We have more questions than the minutes the expert will spend with us, probably.

But in the meantime, we're going to take off for sunny climes for a few days to just... I don't exactly know what... Was it Seneca who said we can change the sky above us but not ourselves? So I guess our worries will come with us, but we'll be worrying under warmer skies? 

Anyway, I'm looking forward to the next few days of our tiny break and will catch up with some picture posts when we're back.

Pic: It snowed in the night, and was a picture-perfect winter wonderland as I headed to work this morning. 

the sisterhood of the caring hearts

I turned in my CASA report today ahead of my deadline. (I feel like a true grownup for not waiting until the last minute.)  

The kids in this particular case are very young and also extra affectionate and it's truly a delight to be around them. I couldn't meet the kids during the day because we were hosting a campus visit for one of our Writing Center Director candidates, so I met the kids at their therapist's this evening. While I was getting an update from their therapist, the eight-year-old and then the five-year-old came up to tell us that we looked "just like sisters."

It made both of us chuckle because their therapist is a very white lady with short hair and we look nothing alike. And then the kids looked a bit confused we didn't agree. The only thing the therapist and I have in common is that we are both safe adults who show them love and care. I wonder if that made us look "just like sisters" to these little ones who don't have enough safe adults in their lives.

Then that thought depressed me for a while. Kids deserve so much more.

Pic: I was invited to jump this "Ninja" course. I don't think I got it right even after many patient demonstrations.

no one asked

A memory from the month or so I was a college athlete when I was in grad school... 

Although I didn't actually row, I used to meet the college rowing team at dawn to practice with them. My job was to be the coxon. (I got recruited in the college dining hall because I was smaller than the rowers.)

It was a fun job--I sat facing the bow, counted strokes, and yelled over the slap of oars and splash of water for people to go faster or look out or turn. 

Until one day the water was extra rocky, and  suddenly afraid of falling into the water--I yelled out: 

"Steady, steady! I can't swim!" 

Everyone was horrified.

"Why didn't you tell us," they asked.

"No one asked me," I whispered, truthfully.

My family takes this story as a reminder that I seem to have no fear/sense sometimes.

Pic: I was reminded today because the Red Cedar, usually so staid, is very muddy and boisterous this weekend because of the sudden thaw. I've seen little kids walk across the top of these rapids--not today though.

 

not here

the seasons may be changing 

but longing is replaced with

longing over here

I can hear you calling for me

and turn around eagerly

but all is empty here

you must have moved away 

where did you go--you 

who were once here?

I pretend I'm with you and alive

supposing I live only because 

you haunt me here

_____________________

Pic: Oh, the irony! A sudden thaw and now there are giant puddles in the backyard everywhere... except in the pond we dug! I laughed every time I caught sight of this today.