the journal :: a beginning

This wonderful journal, by Keri Smith, came to me recently as a gift with the directive to absolutely follow as many of the page's directions as possible. Ha. It sounded easy until I flipped through this seemingly benign little black book. I couldn't possibly abuse the book as instructed to...could I? I was raised to revere books, treat them with kindness and respect, never abuse them. I put it on a shelf, gently slipping it between two craft books, until yesterday.

Again, I carefully read through the pages, wondering where to begin. It seemed to go against the "rules" (if there is such a thing with a book titled "Wreck This Journal") to start on the first page, so I took it with me to the shower (as instructed). A cleansing, a beginning, if you will.

It felt a little naughty, a little bad, to do such a thing as purposely soaking a book. I have to admit I looked at the page "bring this book in the shower with you", closed my eyes, and the little black book and I took the plunge into the falling water. She (yes, the book is a she, and no, I don't have a name for her yet) is now out on the edge of the garden, drying and most likely being invaded by ants.

reflection, part 2

As I was cleaning up, organizing, and reminiscing my way through oodles of photos (you know, like you do...), I came across some sights specific only to the town I grew up in. Those formative years, those years upon which impressions of the world are built. Caution: the county has legal gambling (which for some folks is not such an "oh!" these days) everywhere...in the grocery store, at the petrol station, at the bowling alley...everywhere.


Someone years and years ago killed, stuffed, and mounted a polar bear. It still resides inside this casino, forever on display behind a huge glass box, standing upright to greet everyone who enters. I have never felt good about seeing that regal creature, even as a child, in such a state.

The county also has legal prostitution.


I don't know how to add on to that last statement. These establishments are located over the "tracks" and down by the river. That sounds cliche but it's true.

Growing up with these businesses in town was normal for me. Some have been around since long before my time, some have sprung up since I have left the area. They were just part of the town. Such as small towns are, I'm sure everyone knew everyone else's "business". We knew my friend's uncle spent most evenings in this neighborhood. The first places we went as high school-ers to sell raffles and fund raisers were here. The last places we would tell anyone we went by were here.

fever of summer

Yikes! Summer heat has hit. Knocking at the door of the hundred degree (F.) mark today. With this heat comes the sweetening of foothill peaches and mandarin oranges, the ripening of tomatoes to a deep luscious red, and the making of fresh lemonade.

reflection, part 1

Time doesn't seem to be a constant. I know this to not be true, but there were times during this past school year when minutes seemed like hours, and then hours cruised by like minutes. For sure there were a few valleys as well as the many beautiful peaks. I prefer to savor the peaks, those high points that make everyone's day.

With my trusty "tech support" friend holding my hand through non-Apple quicksand, I (we) created CDs of photos I took over the school year for my little sixth grade fledglings.

signs of summer

Welcome SUMMER! Glad to see you again.


The rope is ready for "pond dropping".


The dock is the perfect spot for dipping feet.


I do believe the fish are hiding amongst the cattails and lilly pads.


Grape jelly is forecast. Just look at those wee grapes!

A perfect start to the summer season. These snapshots are seen daily by my folks. I spent the day moving rocks for my mom, sipping iced green tea, and clicking away with my camera.