One of the drawers had stacks of books that I keep for the grandkids. A coloring book of local animals and a box of 16 crayons stood out. I flipped through the book, saw the picture of a blue jay, opened the box of crayons and started coloring the black outlined sketch. Wow. That felt really good. I turned to the page with a bobcat, and colored that too. That night I brought the coloring book and 16 crayons to bed with me and colored a frog and a deer.
I was hooked.
I don’t believe in the phrase “color blindness.” To imagine my life without the colors of my friends and associates, without other venues of religious faith, without other world visions, without other cultural behaviors, would make my world so absolutely beige. I don’t like beige. It would be like eating plain mashed potatoes every night. Blech! I want yuzu sauces, curry, smoked paprika, and chili peppers with my parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.
The bargain juicer literally exploded while I juiced grapes! A centrifugal juicer, the juicer’s strainer basket/shredder disk dislocated itself, blasted through the plastic top cover like a terrorist’s bomb. Then the shredder disk rocketed into the air, spun like a UFO, landing 20 feet into the living room. Grape remnants stuck to the kitchen ceiling, the dining room chandelier and cabinets—about 10-feet west—and some plastered the TV screen in a protective cabinet.
“This is like living in a third-world country with high-end tax bills!” I screamed while scrubbing the bathroom with the captured water, which was not going to leave enough water to flush the toilet later on. I took a break. When I looked at my garden, the artichoke plants drooped like my sullen mood. They needed water. Thank goodness we captured some rainwater from the roof into a 300-gallon tank that sits in the driveway. It’s the new drought fashion accessory.
This story can also be read in The Cambrian Embedded just over my right eye is a one-inch scar. I was a tad […]
I gifted myself with a semi-professional camera, with interchangeable lenses that included zoom, and wide-angle possibilities. It was time to leave my point-and-shoot digital camera behind. No longer could it capture what I see in my minds-eye when my true eye peers through a viewfinder.
“I promise to forego lust, gluttony, greed and sloth this year…”
That quote is definitely not mine. But they are the final four of the seven deadly sins that build annual New Year’s resolutions lists. They are the corporal sins, or sins of the body.
The seven deadly sins? Well, yes. Are we not trying to improve the basics in our life and cease and desist with at least one of the deadly seven: pride, envy, anger, sloth, greed, gluttony and lust?
When I thought about this annual listing of how I can become better person in 2015, every improvement linked to one of the seven.
It’s a habit that makes me smile most every morning. I smile even while the morning news blares the daily tales of […]
All this magnificence everywhere, yet we find ways to desecrate the poor, the under privileged and less fortunate. Is this how human projectile shards shatter the inner sanctum of their circumferential beginning and seek to destroy as they develop?