Piles, piles everywhere, it is enough to make you crazy. Very few people in the human race can make piles disappear. I spend a better part of my day at home staring at piles that never seem to go away. Now I know you thinking, Jen, stop staring at them and just put them away. The worst pile in my house is the one on the end of the kitchen counter that geographically seems to be the crossroads of our home. Usually on Sunday’s, my much more orderly than me husband decides to get rid of the infamous pile. He does so by scooping up the massive pile of crap, shifts it a couple of feet over and dumps it on the kitchen table. His theory behind this is that I won’t be able to get dinner on the table and I will have to clean up the stupid pile. I guess we could always have dinner in the dining room, but like a dog that has made a mess, I feel guilty and get to work. Here is what happens when I work on a pile. First in my defense, maybe half of what is in the pile is usually my fault. Has anybody heard of email? It makes piles much smaller by turning them into more manageable virtual piles. Everyone seems to feel the need to send out little pieces of papers reminding us of what we probably already now. Thank you to John Lyman School for realizing this over the past year, because you have helped alleviate some big pile problem around here. I usually take the pile and start to separate it into to smaller piles. There is the automatic throw out pile…gum and popcicle wrappers which make me incensed. I call those lazy people piles. These are also destined for the trash: pens that don’t work, scholastic book forms, business cards and brochures that I barely can remember how I got, old magazines, an apple that keeps going to and from the lunch bag that for some reason has been rejected by my child. Woomp, they all go in the trash… or not, because of that damn recycling green earth dilemma that weighs in on my conscience. So now I start a recycling pile. Arggg. Now I take all of the library books and movies split from numerous libraries all carrying over due fines and create the “I must return these or I will have a permanent record pile”. Then things like bills statements and paychecks get sent to the all important “pig” pile that my husband created with a little plastic pig that goes on top of the water cooler. Everything under the pig is high priority. Pictures the kids made go into the pile that gets filed up in the attic or goes into the recycling bin when they aren’t looking pile. Random books and cd’s and annoying manuals that may be important someday to someone find a home on a shelf somewhere. Now it gets difficult. When something fits into the palm of your hand finding a home for it can be maddening. Lego’s are a permanent fixture in the pile. But they are pretty easy to throw back in the bin. Pieces of clay art go onto the special kid shelf. Now I am stuck with weird random crap like marbles, pencil toppers, camera batteries, usb sticks, a random Tootsie Roll, a very important phone number, a mood ring, a Silly Band or two and a key to God only knows what. I smile as I have unearthed my long last glasses and my Ipod shuffle which in my opinion is a dumb invention because it’s too small and everyone looses it. So now my kitchen table has 15 different piles! I hope my husband is happy. In a God-like way, I have split the loaves and created a pile for everyone and everything. Since it is Sunday, it is a day of rest so clearly I should be done cleaning up piles. Is this your experience? If it isn’t, I commend you for your ability to keep it together. For everyone else…may your piles complete you and define your very life.
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Yesterday was a beautiful day here in CT. I decided that with my short bit of free time, it would be best for my growing derriere to go for a hike. My dog Miles had tears in his eyes wondering what had prompted mommy to venture in the woods at long last. Being such a long winter, I have sent roots from my spine down through my swivel chair often forgetting that an outside even exists. So I drove over to Hubbard Park in Meriden for the first time ever. On first look, it feels like Central Park in New York City with many less people. My neighbor Marty told me this morning that the designer of Hubbard Park was the same guy that designed New York's masterpiece. His name was Fredrich Olmstead and he hailed from Hartford. Anyway, Miles was jumping out of his skin to begin our hike. I started off on the wrong path that led me a mile out of my way before I got the sense something wasn't right. I retraced my tracks and met a nice lady who pointed me in the right direction. Her name started with an A and I found her fascinating. She was a distance running 49-year-old mother and army soldier who clearly has an effervescent personality. I wish I didn't have 25 pounds of camera on my back so I could run with her. As I hiked up the trail, it became clear, that this wasn't a main trail. I thought to myself, I know I have to go over thata way and up. So I walked and walked...and walked. A mile or so later, I realized that I had missed the turn up to the castle when all I saw was sheer cliffs near where castle should be. Backtracking, Miles and I finally found the steep trail that led the way up, and up it was. It was decision time. I had already been hiking for an hour with no water, and even worst…no snacks. I left my phone in the car…woops. Typical, I pack the camera and nothing else. Thankfully I had told Claudia I was at Castle Craig, just in case they had to send out the search party. A funny thing happens to you when you are alone in the woods. You start to feel like the world has completely forgotten you exist and civilization as we know it seems to have disappeared into thin air. You would think this Ironman, marathon-running girl would do this with ease. Truth is, I have spent way too many hours glued to my seat and I felt like the combination of the hot chocolate, Twizzlers and my many other poor food choices were beginning to hold me back from any forward movement. Miles who was crashing through the brush would stop every now and then just laugh at me. Man’s best friend I think not. So we made it to the top and I gave Miles the Rocky Balboa arms up victory sign and he laughs at me again. There was a beautiful view, especially based on the fact that I didn’t use a car to get to the top. I looked out over Meriden and it actually looked...pretty! I took my ceremonious shots and headed back. Coming back, I found the real trail and cut off a full hour of the outbound trip making it back in less than 40 minutes. When putting the photos on the computer, I realized, that they were somewhat dull. After the effort put in to get there, they should have been jaw dropping gorgeous. The moral of the story here is that the journey in itself is what makes a place interesting. This photo above was taken at 12 noon in bright daylight. I thought I would make it more fun for you so I turned it into nighttime scene where you could see the imaginary fireworks that I saw while reaching the top of Castle Craig. I had the Katy Perry song in my head throughout the entire walk. Perhaps it was just my dehydration speaking. To learn Photoshop, I have a long journey ahead of me, but if it is anything like my hike, eventually, I’ll get there . In the mean time, try to make some of your own fireworks today!
Never take where we come from for granted. I will probably spend a lifetime teaching my children this. While Peter looks out at the Statue of Liberty on a rainy afternoon, I took the liberty to snap this shot of him. I also see that I shouldn’t have chopped off the top of the street lamp and you probably wouldn’t have noticed if I didn’t say anything. But after all, isn't a blog a place to state your self grievances. Being an American, I am lucky to live in a place where we can freely do things. Like everyone, I wail about our taxes and the knuckleheads running some branches of our government. But when you look at the revolutions that are being fought over the ousting of dictators and bad guys in general, I will gladly take our circus over theirs. In my entire childhood, I never visited the Statue of Liberty. I am not sure why. Maybe being one of 5 kids, 4 being boys, the thought of going there would have worried my parents that one would decide to do the Triple Lindy over the ferry gunnel . Since my kids have come around, we have visited Ellis Island and Lady liberty 3 times up close and personal. I feel inspired every time I board the Liberty Ferry as you can not help but get the rush of energy thinking of the millions that have passed by her looking to live out their dreams. Two of my grandparents sailed over here from Wales and Ireland and were met with open arms by Lady Liberty. She didn't seem to be bothered by their thick brogues or foreign customs. Their smiles and their hopes were their golden ticket. The photo below shows my mother Gail and her her mom, Molly Delaney on the Aquatania as it had passed through New York harbor many years ago. I often think of the grandmother I never met and see so many similarities between she and Kate in just a glance of some photos. Once again, photos come to play in my life. In a quick glance, a photo helps establish in your mind, who you are and where you come from. As the daffodils peek their yellow heads up, perhaps a visit to lady Liberty should be in the works for any American who needs to be reminded of how lucky we are. I love seeing the faces of people visiting the United States and feeling as they experience a piece of our privilege. So I hope that when my kids come face to face with this great statue, they see a mirror reflecting their own dreams and aspirations. Every human should have this hope. After all, it is what America was founded for. May we never take America for granted.
I have been staring up at the sky waiting for the sun to come out ever since Puxutony Phil informed us that we could kiss winter goodbye. Although we can relish in the fact that warm weather is just around the bend, it is undeniable that we may be stuck in the mud for quite a while. So I thought I would post these photos from last year of some perty palm trees swaying in the wind. Usually by now, I have reached my breaking point, made a reservation to go somewhere…anywhere to get away. Then I go and abandon my dog at my parent’s house, which for Miles is like being left stranded at the Four Seasons. My parents seem to get our baggage more often than they should. They will have been married for 50 years on April 8. That is fifty with a 5 and an 0. It is an amazing milestone. There are some countries that haven’t lasted 50 years and lived to tell about it. In those years, they have persevered through the upbringing of their 5 kids, 13 grandchildren and numerous grand-dogs. They have taken on every parental task asking for nothing in return. They have ventured to some of the dreariest rowing venues, skipping many an opportunity to enjoy palm trees all to make us better. They have opened their hearts to my brothers and I, our children and everyone around them and have taught us how to love unconditionally. Our kids have become a fixture in their home as they always have the welcome mat out and a case of YOO HOO’s ready for an army. Mema and Papa have carried our baggage on their shoulders with a smile showing that they believe in us no matter what. So as I thought about dropping off the dog once again to go on one of my selfish adventures, I reconsidered; wouldn’t it be nice for them to pack their own bags and hear the gentle swish of a beautiful palm? We’ll mom and dad, if you are reading this, it means that you figured out how to get to this blog and I know that’s an accomplishment. Finding the address bar can be tricky some times! If you have gotten this far, you know I like surprises and I also like to give them. So pack your bags, and get ready for a little adventure of your own. You deserve it. In just days, sunny Florida awaits your arrival. You can share some Baily’s on St. Patty’s day with Patsy and Donny and bask in the rays of the warm sunshine. For 50 years of putting up with each others antics, you deserve the world, so I got you a direct flight! Surprise and have a great adventure!!!!! Happy Anniversary! This song is dedicated to Mom and Dad for 50 years of keeping it real... |
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