i’m not always thankful when i should be.  in fact, i’m not thankful a lot.  i’m worried, i’m doubtful, i’m negative. thankful usually happens when something bad might happen but doesn’t, then i’m like woah, sooooo thankful. 

i love beautiful design and things, or mostly i really appreciate them.  how they make you feel when you see them for the first time.  the appreciation for the person who magically thought of gathering balloons in waves of color, or was skillful in arranging simple flowers to make them look majestic or clustered books in color codes; someone expressing something so completely original you sigh when you see it. 

traveling is a happy little pastime of mine.  especially when it means the open road.  nothing beats it, nothing.  it’s the path to peacefulness and equanimity, to clear thinking and perspective, it’s both familiar and new, and i needed some of all of that. 

this blog, and website is a place for celebrations and pretty pictures, chronicling and thinking about the best of times on this place we call home.  so is it the place to talk about dying and what goes with that, and how it feels when someone we love becomes part of the celestial sky….maybe it’s the perfect place.

humans, we were born to be on the move (at least this one was), so that we can sense with every part of our being our surroundings and the sights, sounds, smells, temperature, nuances, tastes that accompany where we are at any given moment.  that’s why we travel, not just to see the world but to know it.

i was on a trip last fall with a great group of women, some i knew well, others a little and one not at all.  we went to france, ooohhhlaaalaaa. i love to travel, even to bixby. it’s about the unknown, what’s around the corner, the sites, the newness, fresh eyes.  i love seeing something for the first time like i’m a kid again.

sometimes our weaknesses come in handy….i might be considered a bit of a pack rat. i may or may not have a craft closet that has boxes of ribbons, and empty frames from hobby lobby, cute little food containers, and styrofoam heads, confetti in all shapes and sizes, american flags and fancy pea shooters….it’s like a little slice of heaven.

I DO, powerful little words.  no doubt when they are seen or heard their intentions are clear.  Lives are changed, love is exchanged, dreams are made.  it starts out in as many different ways as there are stars in the sky; first looks in an 8th grade class, a blind date at 30, a cross word at 24, a reunion at 63, but it’s a spark, a spark that lights a path that two people want to walk, hand in hand. 

where does the spark begin, where something becomes important, where it takes hold of your heart, lands in your brain and puts down roots.  where it becomes inexplicably entwined into who you are and what you love.