Author Archives: Diana

Seen it all before?

Posted on by

In my varied attempts lately to inspire and intrigue my son, I often find that I just as effectively intrigue myself.  Things that, according to majority of people you talk to, should not make any significant impression on an adult (since we’ve all seen it all before), will have me buzzing with inspired energy for days.  I take my son to see all the airplanes at a small local airport, for instance, and he is so overwhelmed by the glory of it all that he nearly hyperventilates.

And as I watch him, I realize that I am excited too.  I am reminded of the feelings that I had when I was a girl.  The excitement about flying.  The desire to become a pilot.  But it’s not just nostalgia.  It is here and now.  A childlike embracing of the present moment.  Maybe I am not two years old, but I have never seen the cockpit of a plane this close before, and darn it, it’s cool!

I am also inspired by the kindness of the people that we encounter.  The immediate drive of these people to share their passions with a small child in the hopes that it may become their passion too.  A local fireman who just had his first son, eager to practice his new role on this enthusiastic toddler, will do nearly anything to impress him.

How often do we see this kindness, this passion in the people we encounter day-to-day?  It is so beautiful that I feel like I have connected myself to these lives.  They have forever made and impression on me and hopefully we have made a small one on them as well.

Everyday Discovery

Posted on by

Today, I visited a place that is almost too fantastic to be believed.  There was a veritable jungle of strange and exotic plants never before seen, with flowers ranging in color from stark white to violet  to bright red and yellow.  And not only that, but there were enormous insects.  Lady bugs as big as basketballs, dragon flies that could lift a puppy and carry it off, and butterflies of wildly different colors soaring overhead.  There was rain that would start at the drop of a hat and then stop almost as abruptly as it had begun.  Not to mention the water fountains of all shapes and sizes.  And next to those you could find many small, sandy beaches with tiny statues propped up in the sand.  Why were they there?  Were they the tribute of some miniature race of people to their ancestors or deities?  This theory could be supported, perhaps, by that fact that there were tiny tractors next to many of these small beaches.  The bugs in this place were easily larger than these tractors, whose purpose remains a mystery.  As I continued to walk, my senses were overwhelmed by the glorious aroma that permeated the air.  Pungent and sweet and vivid.  My mouth began to water as I realized that the smell was fruit.  Not like any fruit I had ever seen before, but fruit none the less.  The array of shapes, colors, and sizes was dizzying.  From fruit the size of my hand to fruit the size of my head.  Some round and soft, others hard and oblong, and still others spiny and ugly as though they were begging not to be eaten. Mountains of fruit, as far as the eye could see!  And it didn’t stop there.  As I explored this strange place further, I discovered that there was also a staggering amount of vegetables, nuts, and grains.  Each forming their own little mountain, although their smell was not nearly so alluring.  And everywhere were I looked, people were busily milling about with their heads down.  Sniffing and poking and prodding.  Looking up only if they happened to bump someone or something else and only long enough to mutter, “excuse me”.  It was almost as if they didn’t realize what a strange and exotic place this was.  As if they just took it for granted that a place as magical as this should exist in the middle of the city.  I hope I never become one of them.  As we were driving away, I looked over my shoulder trying to take note of something I could identify this place by, so I could be sure to find it again.  There was a big sign I had missed as we arrived that read, “Farmer’s Market”.  Since I cannot yet read, I don’t know what it meant, but I will remember what it looked like and I WILL find it again.
– A two-year-old’s first experience of a farmers market.

I HOPe

Posted on by

I have always loved IHOP, but my appreciation for it seems to grow in direct proportion to my age.  I have had the privilege of being treated to an IHOP breakfast with my boys for the last two Sundays in a row and both times I have been struck by the wonderful phenomena that exists there.  It is a bouquet of humanity.  One that smells of pancakes and sausage and eggs.  A melting pot of classes running the entire gambit from the very young to the very old and the very rich to the very poor.  It is Norman Rockwell’s America at it’s best – with a complete and utter lack of pretension or judgement.  Wholly sincere and simple.  One table houses a family of 7 and the very next is a table of one quietly sipping coffee while reading the paper.  It is beautiful.  So the next time you visit, don’t just feed your belly, although there’s certainly no doubt you’ll be able to do that well, feed your spirit.  Feast your eyes on the vast array of human goodness and smile.  And trust me, you won’t leave hungry.

Photo taken from pages.suddenlink.net/davew/pickin.htm

Old People in the Making

Posted on by

Who among us has not heard granny drop the “F” bomb and complain about her food, or her chair, or the pimple on her ass?  And our first reaction is often to roll our eyes and dismiss her as a crotchety old person.  But you would think we’d have it in us to be a bit more sensitive since we are all just old people in the making.  And I’d be willing to bet that most old people would be far less ornery if they were dismissed a little less often.  Shown some respect.  Appreciated more for the incredible wisdom they house than the faculties they have lost.

Image taken from madatoms.com

Having just finished reading “Water for Elephants,” which is narrated in part by a 93 year old man, and having read the incredible tributes that several friends have recently written  about their beloved grandparents upon their passing, I find myself pondering the vast untapped wisdom of our elders and regretting the relatively little exposure I have had to it.  I have always lived a significant distance from my grandparents and never been diligent to put in the work it would have taken to develop good long distance relationships.  This makes me sad and I hope that, one day, my grandchildren are more diligent than I was.

Image taken from http://www.impactlab.net

In considering this elderly wisdom that I have not sufficiently availed myself of, I did some research looking for the advice of old folks.  For better or for worse, here are some things I found.  Feel free to add to the list.

  • We all make mistakes and sometimes the hardest part of making a mistake is letting it go.
  • When you think “I’ll just have one more drink” – don’t have it.
  • Don’t be surprised when people are not pleased for your success and are happy when you fail.
  • Never look at your mom when she’s eating a banana.
  • Life is like riding a bike. If you look down or look back, you’ll fall off. The only way to get where you want to go is to look forward.
  • Son, now you are married, you must learn this important lesson on dealing with a wife. If you are going out for a night on the town, tell her you are coming home an hour or two later than you actually intend to.  That way, when you arrive home ‘early’ she’ll be delighted that you’ve cut short your night out to be with her.
  • Never trust a man with a beard, he’s hiding something.
  • If you take longer strides when you’re walking, your shoes will last longer.
  • Never sleep with a woman who’s problems are worse than your own.
  • Never skimp on spending money on a good pair of shoes and a decent bed. If you’re not in one, you’re in the other.
  • Always leave a party while you’re still having fun, you’re a young lad now but later you’ll understand.
  • He who is scared and runs away, lives to run another day!
  • Always take a dump when you’re at work, you’re getting paid for it.
  • Growing old is mandatory.  Growing up is optional.
  • “If we spent as much time feeling positive about getting older, as we do trying to stay young, how much different our lives would be.”   Rob Brown
  • “Old age is like everything else. To make a success of it, you’ve got to start young.”   Fred Astaire

Stories Waiting to be Discovered

Posted on by

Do you ever get the feeling that some things you encounter while going about your normal, day-to-day business, are just slightly too unusual to be part of REAL life.  And for a brief moment you feel certain, with perhaps only a shadow of a doubt, that these  . . . apparitions . . . have leaped straight from the pages of a story and have entered your world for the sole purpose of adding a little bit of intrigue to your otherwise mundane day?

Allow me to give you an example.  The other day, I was driving Aiden to his sitter’s house before heading to work.  It was a hot, muggy, 80 degree morning with very little breeze.  We had gone only two blocks from our house when I see a woman on a bicycle – something that shouldn’t give me any cause for a second thought.  But I knew, upon seeing this woman was that she was not an ordinary part of my day.  My very first thought when I saw her was that she was a witch in disguise.  Now, this is not something I purposefully conjured up, with my overly vivid imagination.  It was an immediate intuition.  There was nothing startlingly strange about her, but there were some oddities.  Her bicycle had a basket on the front.  She wore a drab brown hoodie with the hood pulled low over her head – bear in mind the weather – and large vintage looking sunglasses.  Her features were extremely defined and protruding and she DID have a large wort on her chin that I could see from my vantage point behind the wheel.  But for me to pass a complete stranger and think, “Huh, a witch.  I wonder what she’s doing in our world,” seems a bit neurotic.  I don’t know whether it was the fact that I was considering her so carefully, or perhaps there was some strange truth to my conjecture about her, but her eyes followed me till she was looking over her shoulder on her bicycle and I had turned the corner.  I have never seen her before or since in our neighborhood.  Why I had such a strong reaction to her, I’ll never know.  The logical side of my brain has convinced me, since that day, that what I saw was nothing more than a woman on a bicycle.  The fantastical side of my brain, however, begs to disagree and has spent the better part of several days’ quiet moments playing out stories in my mind about the witch in disguise. I’ll leave you to imagine what the details of those stories may be, but I will tell you they have made the last few days far more fun :)

So here’s to noticing oddities, never taking them for granted, and giving the childlike side of your mind leeway to believe the unbelievable, even if just for a moment.