Western States 100 Documentary

It's late notice, but tomorrow, July 28th at 3 pm Eastern Time, (that's noon on the Pacific Coast) on NBC, they will telecast the Western States 100 Mile Endurance Race my sister ran in last month. Jeep World of Adventure is covering it. On my TIVO the title says World of Adventure Sports.

I was there for her race and saw the camera crew all around us.

It says this about the episode: THE WESTERN STATES 100: Witness the jaw dropping, adrenalin pumping, sweat flying adventure of the Western States Endurance Run-one of the oldest ultra trail events in the world and certainly one of the most challenging: one day-100 miles Extreme mental and physical preparation are of utmost importance to each runner, for the mountains, although beautiful, are relentless in their challenge and unforgiving to the ill-prepared.

If you want to be inspired, please watch this.

I QUIT!

Text-messaging that is.

An hour ago I received a text message from Margaret in Fort Worth.

With a handful of text messaging experience under my belt, I decide to get fancy and return her text message with a text message: "Let's get together in August!" I type.

Ten minutes later I receive a text message from Nina in Las Vegas who responds with a text-message: "Sounds great! See you then!"

Quickly realizing my error, though relieved it is Nina I just invited to spend time with, I return a text message back to Nina: "Thank you for the birthday card!" I write.

Only to receive a text message back from Stan in New Zealand telling me he didn't know it was my birthday and didn't send me a card.

If this is an indication of what lies ahead for me today, I think I should just go back to bed and cover up my head.

Feeling smart

The very talented Roz Fulcher awarded me the THINKING BLOGGER AWARD. (what? You don't believe me?) LO0oOK!

I am going to print this lovely award out and pin it to my shirt and wear it every single day for a month!

Thank you Ms Rozzieland!!!

As soon as I was notified I was a winner, I instantly remembered waaaay back when I was in my teens on a weekend retreat at Westminster Woods.

I was sitting in the second row of a very small church/meeting place, nervous as all-get-out because I am about to be called upon to accept an award. When my name was called to come up to the podium to accept my lovely certificate, I leaned down quickly to pick up my thank you notes and bonked my head on the wooden pew in front of me. The sound was enormous!

I could have died.

Nooo, not really died.

It actually didn't hurt me at all, but I was mortified. Could I get any more embarrassed? (well. yeah. I have, but that's for another time; another post).

Amidst the gasps in the audience, I walked up there as if nothing happened. Only to collapse into a horrible fit of laughter ... similar to what the spa experience could have been if I didn't have the life experience I do now, learning how to refrain.

But that was then and this is now. so without any further ado... I want to extend my gratitude for giving out awards for those five blogs I would like to honor in the thinking world.

The winners are:

CRUNCHYBITS Rayne is amazing. It's an appropriate name, really. Because she rains onto so many people with honor and kindness. She's an artist. A photographer. A writer. A crafty sewer. A mother and a wife. And she has a chronic illness that she talks openly about on her blog. OH! And she has other blogs, too... that honors other's writings.

PAULA BECKER You must go to her site at once. You will recognize her work I'm sure. Isn't she great? I can hang out over there for a long, long time and often times I do. I'm quite sure if she noticed I was there, she'd offer me something cool to drink and sit down with me for awhile and we'd chat about Texas....

VALGAL I had the honor of spending dinner with Val in Malibu this past spring. Sitting with her for an hour or two is just too short. Her artwork is amazing. So colorful and her client list is long and tall and filled with colorful people like herself. When she writes stories on her blog (which isn't enough)... you can sit there and feel enthralled. She is so talented and her work is going to be shown on an HGTV episode sometime in the future. Can you not wait for it?!?!

JIM PEARSON He is a wonderful friend and an incredible artist. We used to work at a software company creating computer games. I was hired there as a temp and I was succumed to bashfullness and didn't leave my cube for about six weeks. One day I stepped out and he announced it to the entire art room. "Lo00Ook! Shawn is stepping out!!" I quickly moved my foot back in (once I saw my shadow) and we had rain all season long! Jim is a kind, thoughtful, sensitive, funny, entertaining guy who will keep you laughing til all hours of the night. He was the art director for nearly all of Toy Story 2. I don't see him nearly enough and I miss him terribly. We live less than an hour away but happy I can see him through his blog amidst our busy lives. (Jimpy? I lost your email address. can you send it to me again?)

KELLY RIDGWAY She's my sister. An ultra runner (running 100 miles in a single day.. not everyday!). She deserves this award because she's a huge inspiration. She has Lupus and she doesn't let it defeat her. While on her runs, she focuses on positive thoughts and uplifting those around her. She is a nurse that goes beyond her call-of-duty. I remember on many occasions at Christmas, Kelly would call her patients up and ask how they are feeling and wish them a Merry Christmas. Most important is that she is my sister. And I've known her all of my life ... so I should know, right?

Thank you Roz. you are wonderful. For those who aren't familiar with her, she is an illustrator for kid's books using felt, fabric etc. Please go look at her blog. She is incredible!

My Spa Vacation

Wearing just a robe and my orange crocs, I quietly pushed open a heavy door with a sign that reads: Please refrain from talking.

The seriousness of the room. The importance of the silence. The reality that I was now living this moment caught me off guard.

My entire body convulsed.

Shaking and trembling as I held my breath, I desperately tried to keep it still. I buried myself toward the wall and then turned my face toward Brenda, pleading with my eyes to do something. To save me from this involuntary physical and emotional spasm I was experiencing.

She looked at me, horrified.

Saying nothing, her face screamed "Nooo, not now, Shaawwwn. Not now. Please don't do this."

I quickly turned around, facing away from her and the others in the relaxation room, hoping to melt into the wall.

"Please God. Please God. Please God." I whispered over and over and over again. "Don't let me---"

And then, in one sudden onslaught of emotions, my body erupted like Mount Vesuvius.

I let out an obnoxious loud, blusterous snorkle. I was surprised how much it sounded like I was crying! But. I was indeed, induced by the laughing bug. Hysterical laughing. Laughing so hard, tears spilled down my face.

And, then, (I like to call it a miracle)... I was able to quickly turn it off.

"Sorry!" I chirped into the room.

I leaned down into a relaxation chair but I sat down too quickly and realized my white robe had folded itself between my legs and was digging into me and was slowly stopping the circulation in my butt. I sat there for a few moments, pretending not to notice.

Then, slowly, and very quietly, I lifted myself back up to re-adjust the robe and in a pretend, fake move, I reached over to the cucumbers to place over my eye lids.

"relax. relax. relax" I keep saying to myself. Over and over and over again.

If you say it enough times, you will find the word relax morphs into other other words such as flaps and sacks.

And now as I am imagining the sacks under my eye lids ... I feel the cucumber sliding down off my eyes and I wonder if anyone is watching me.

I quickly lift my head and glance around the room at the others relaxing. The others don't notice me as they are so poised in their perfect hair styles piled up in such a sophisticated manner. I would have had to hire a hair stylist to even look half as sophisticated. My shadow that is reflected against the wall from the soft lights looks as though my hair is shellac'd against my neck.

Then I hear my name being called out.

"Shawn?"

I jump up quickly so I don't keep her waiting.

She introduces herself:

My name is Oddie.
"Oddie?" I repeat.
"No. Annie."

And as we wandered down the hall to the unknown, she asks me when I last foliated my face and when I tell her twice a year whether I need it or not and the last time I used a mask was last week but can you believe I still have the same ointment from 1997 ? she giggles and says, "you're kidding right?"

And I'm not. But because I was pretending to be sophisticated, I said, "Well, yes!" And we both laugh. And she believes me in my sophistication.

Until. She spends half the facial appointment removing blackheads around my nose. And when I lean my arm out so she can place it in a heated glove, I can see one of the cucumbers from my eyelids sticking near my left arm pit.

It was an incredible, once-in-a-lifetime experience staying at the Watermark Hotel. An early birthday present from my best friend.

It was not just a facial. And a full body massage. But a full 3-day spa experience. Staying in their own Spa suite apartment. We were pampered with impeccable service.

Treated like royalty. Which isn't too far from how Brenda treats me anyway. They say everything is big in Texas.

And with my best friend, her heart and generosity toward me certainly is.
I will never forget it.

Thank you Brenda, from the bottom of my heart for a memory of a lifetime.
I will never forget this. Ever.

Turn Around, Don't Drown

The latest signs springing up all over Texas is Turn Around, Don't Drown.

And there was a lot of it. Our estimated drive down to San Antonio from Dallas was 5-1/2 hours. But I had this sinking feeling that it could take us forty-five hours if every time we saw water on the ground, we would turn around.

And there was a lot of it.

It was a good time to leave when we did. The rains had stopped temporarily though there was still a lot of water on the roads.

This photo was taken while driving through Irving.



Here is a photo of Waxahachie. It's a lot prettier when the sun is out. My dear friend, Julie Miller lived in Waxahachie as a young girl so I have a warm affection for this place. There is a wonderful downtown area, but it was raining too hard to stop, so we kept driving.




Another wonderful town to stop in is Hillsboro. They have some nice little antique/junk stores in the old side of town and an outlet mall in the other side. Sometimes I like to stop in the Fossil Store. But. It was raining so hard we decided to keep driving.




Now we're in Waco. What do you think of when you hear the word Waco? Yeah, me, too. David Koresh and the Branch Davidians. I kept looking out for people turning around on the freeway, but they kept moving forward which I'm glad they did. I think it would be more unsafe for us to turn around on the freeway into oncoming traffic during the torrential rains. (but then again, maybe that's just me).



We got off the highway to see the small adorable town of Salado. It has some cool looking restaurants and little country shops. I really want to stop and explore this town the next time I am there and when the sun is shining.



There were quite a few accidents. I snapped this photo out my side window while driving in Round Rock. When I look at it now, I feel worried that maybe we should have stopped. The door is wide open. No one is around. Could the driver still be inside? And, if they did leave the scene, don't you think someone would think, 'Oh, let me shut the door?"



We are entering Austin, one of my most favorite places to visit. The yellow lights on the left of the sign says TURN AROUND, DON'T DROWN. But nobody was. Can you imagine, everyone slamming their breaks and turning around right there on the freeway? Maybe that's what the driver tried to do in the photo above. I think the sign should read WHEN FLOODS ABOUND, SLOW DOWN.



New Braunsfels is a lovely town. It has a great river flowing through it and it's always fun to ride the inner tub down it. Except for on days like these...



We finally arrived in San Antonio. We thiiiink! From what we can see out of our windows. And we were right. And it was an amazing trip. But I'll talk about it in my next post...

Texas-Bound

I just looked at the 10-day weather forecast for Dallas and San Antonio. Scattered Thunder Storms every single day I'm there. It rained 20 inches today in one of those towns. In one day.

I fly out of San Francisco tomorrow night and arrive in Dallas at midnight. We'll take a roadrip to San Antonio for a few days over July 4th to do the riverwalk. 'Course.. with all this rain, I think we can walk anywhere and it would be classified as a river walk.

One thing for certain. Other than the rain. I will be in for an adventure. I will try and post while I'm there and let you know what that adventure entails....

Have a wonderful week!

Sea Monkeys

Some of you might remember I submitted this for Illustration Friday.

It's been since changed ever so slightly and Wuh-LaaaawW! It's now in fabric! Well. Actually. It's a Strikeoff.

In the Textile Printing Industry a Strikeoff (abbreviated SKO) is defined as a small run of fabric printed with screens for the first time after the screens are made to check if there are any shifts in colors and a whole slew of other could-be problems.

I was just pinning up new Dick and Jane fabric I was designing on the fabric wall, glanced down when I dropped a thumb-tack that bounced into a box and there were my monkeys! How could I resist picking it up, staring at it and then taking a photo of it?

I hope I can do more monkeys.

Pennies from Heaven

wow!

There are no words to really describe this past weekend. What a delight. Spending it with family and friends, supporting my sister. What could be better? It really stirred deep pieces of my heart watching Kelly on her 100-mile endurance race.

I am home now, back at work, but the memories keep flashing over and over in my head like a quick time movie in a loop.

Little sleep, hours on the hidden dirt trails high in the Sierras, a rattle snake encounter and a weekend filled with a mouthful of dust... sounds like I'm describing my sister's experience on the trails but this was all mine!

It truly was such an extraordinary time.

Kelly ran hard to meet her goal and then some in completing the race in under 24 hours. Thank you for being so sweet and supportive in your comments to me. And for those who wrote me private emails as well. And for watching her progress online. It really meant a lot to me. (and to her!)

Uta, a long-time family friend/nextdoor neighbor lost her young son Andy in a tragic accident. Kelly wears a blue wristband with his name on it and wears it on all her runs. "It's like I'm taking Andy with me on all my journeys..." she tells us. "He's running with me."

Uta was with us this weekend and she told me that she believes Andy sends her a sign that he's there by dropping pennies from heaven. She finds them in the most unexpected places.

Just when I was taking the photo of Kelly running at the 72-mile-mark, (see right photo) at Michigan Bluff, Uta looked down and found a penny laying there at her feet. She knew it was Andy. He really was there after all. Just like Kelly knew he would be.

"Only those who risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go" ... t. s. eliot

Kelly, my sister, the ultra runner

Photo by Stephen Speckman

I'll be driving up to Lake Tahoe on Friday.

We'll be staying in Squaw Valley Village, waking up early to watch nearly 350 runners begin their 100 mile endurance run from the base of Squaw Valley to Auburn, CA. Why will I do that?

My sister is one of those runners. She also has lupus. And a blog. And I'm going up there to help support her along the way. I am so proud of her. Writing this wells up my eyes in tears.

Three years ago, she ran her first 100 mile endurance run there. It was amazing. It is known to be one of the most physically challenging events in the world. Witnessing it first hand was life-changing for me; extremely emotional.

The Western States Endurance Run covers 100 miles of raw, rocky trails, reaching elevations of I think, more than 15,000 feet... running over mountains and down canyons and through pretty extreme temperatures. This was the same trail gold miners would travel during the gold rush days and it was also the trail for the pony express. They say the temperatures could vary from 20 degrees to above 100 degrees, so the runners need to prepare for both extremes.

There is a climb of 2,550 vertical feet in the first 4-1/2 miles of the race alone.

At the 78-mile mark, runners have to use a rope bridge to get across the icy cold American River... which is in the pitch of night for most runners.

We will be driving miles in seemingly no where along rugged roads to catch up to her at Dusty Corners or Robinson Flat. And Michigan Bluff. And Forest Hill School. No cell phone reception there. The car will be bathed in dust driving along unpaved roads. We'll bring a large supply of water.

If you are near a computer this weekend and want to check on her progress. Please go here. She is #344.

Thanks for your support!

Show and Tell

I was just browsing online and stumbled upon one of the fabrics I designed that's been made into a small clutch purse! I got so excited!

You can view it here inside Sugarcane's shop.

Big Bird

I was just visiting Chickengirl's blog and for fun, she took The Sesame Street Personality Quiz. She's Bert! Her favorite character! I never watched too much Sesame Street so I wouldn't know who my favorite character is. But since I decided to take the quiz and discoverd I have the personality of Big Bird, guess who my favorite character is now?

Who are you?


You Are Big Bird
Talented, smart, and friendly... you're also one of the sanest people around.

You are usually feeling: Happy. From riding a unicycle to writing poetry, you have plenty of hobbies to keep you busy.

You are famous for: Being a friend to everyone. Even the grumpiest person gets along with you.

How you live your life: Joyfully. "Super. Duper. Flooper."

The Sesame Street Personality Quiz

My Cup Runneth Over

I did it again this morning.

I didn't mean to. It's just a silly game I play each morning with my coffee. I love it when I pour that last bit out of the coffee pot into my cup and it fills my cup perfectly.

But this morning, as I poured so slowly thinking, Is it gonna spill? Is it gonna spill?

It did.

It rose up over the rim of my cup and poured down onto the sides leaving a puddle for me to wipe up.

What a silly game! Didn't I automatically know when enough was enough? Did I have to keep pouring? Hope beyond hope I assumed it would all be okay and it would fill my cup to the brim and nothing more.

I even poured it extra slow.. as if that would help.

My life has been like like this, too. A delicate balancing act. Sometimes my workload is just enough. Other times it spills out over it's edges.

Today I am tired. I have recently committed to an overload of work that I am honestly worried I may not be able to get it all done in time. Or, not without compromise. I need to prepare myself that there will be endless evenings of long hours working alone while the rest of the world sleeps. And sometimes that won't even be enough.

But.

What if it's not going to be as overwhelming as I think it is? What if this is going to be one of those experiences that I will say in a few months, "I am so glad I worked on those projects, because if I had said no, then I wouldn't be in the place where I am today."

You never know what you are going to find when you say yes to new avenues of creativity.

Dick and Jane Bib

I couldn't help but take a photo of this bib I came across recently. It's made up of fabric I designed. My heart swells when I see things like this. I wish I could give credit to the person who made it. But I don't know who it is.

IF: Cars

I haven't done Illustration Friday in so long.
I think me forgets how to draw!

I drew these cars awhile back. I have never drawn anything realistic in my life! I tried, too. But I just don't have the hootspa (is that the right word I'm looking for?) to be able to master such a feat! You really need a ton more drawing skills than I have!

Then. I thought of something. I placed a photograph into Illustrator and I started to trace the car in a separate layer above the photograph. I was so thrilled. I felt like I was 11 years old all over again tracing Peanuts and Archie comic books. I hit a level I never thought I was capable of.

Some might call it cheating. But I call it pure genius.

Two good websites for travel

With summer vacations coming just around the corner for a lot of you, I thought I would share with you two really cool sites that I really enjoy and can help you in your travel plans.

SeatGuru is a great site where you can find which seats you want to sit in or avoid. For instance, did you know that if you booked a flight on American Airlines Boeing 767-300, all the seats in row 13 are reported to feel a little cramped and don't have a full recline? And, the row has misaligned windows so you need to lean to look out. And the space under the B E AND H seats are slightly limited because there have equipment boxes under the seats! And if you fly on the Continental Boeing 737-500, wouldn't you like to know that 14A or 14F seats have a lot of extra leg room but the tray table is in the armrest, so the seat is slightly smaller. Your floor storage is under seats 10A and 10F and it can get cold sitting there in your seat. But if you're tall and thin and hot-blooded, this should be the perfect seat for you.

The other site that's good for your travels is Farecast. This is a site which will let you know the lowest fares and how many seats are available at that price. Also, if it's a good idea to buy the ticket now or wait as the price will be dropping.

Happy Travels!

Kings Market

I drive past this scene nearly everyday of my life.

It's a very real impressionable part of me.

When I was not-yet-five, we moved to Santa Rosa so we could live closer to the grocery store my dad and his business partner, Marvin, owned. It was Kings Market, located next door to Fosters Freeze.

I still remember my dad letting us use the Dial-a-Date 12-Year Rubber Stamp to press the date on the cans and climbing up the back steps in the lunch room to spy on the customers that appeared in various shades of gray through the tented windows. The cold ice cream glass case had masking tape alongside the crack where so many people leaned up against it, cracking it. My dad would let us help ourselves to the ice cream drumstick or the root beer popsicle.

I remember shopping there with my mom and feeling proud, watching my dad behind the counter at the cash register ... wearing a neck tie and green apron, he barely acted like he recognized us... acting as business-like as possible, talking quietly. Every summer, behind the brick wall out in front in the parking lot, they sold fireworks before the Fourth of July. I spent so much time at the Fosters Freeze. While waiting for my half vanilla/half chocolate soft cone, I'd grab the pole out in front and twirl around it.

"Watch me. Watch me. Watch me..." I'd say. I'd grab high up on the pole and twirl around as many times as I could before my feet reached the ground.

I still drop by the Fosters Freeze on occasion. It doesn't feel quite so fast-food since they take your order and cook it on the spot, making it feel more home-made than anything.

There was once a laundromat in that center. I think it's been replaced by a vacuum repair shop. I remember my mom taking us all there to do the laundry and while the clothes were being washed, she would let me sit in the cart and my sister would push me around like a carnival ride. The owner's name was John and he lived in the apartment above the laundromat. He wore overalls and was always taking the coins out of the machines and putting them into cloth bags to take to the bank. Or to place under his bed or in a sock drawer for all I know.

Kings Market is now a carpet store. I walked in it a few years ago with my mom while looking for carpet. It was barely recognizable. I wanted to tell the man working that day that my dad once had a grocery store there and I imagined myself pointing up to the windows up in the back and telling him how I would watch the customers through the tinted glass, and how they sold fireworks right outside that window. But I knew he wasn't interested, so after we browsed through the carpet samples we left without saying a word, making a quick stop at Fosters Freeze to order a half vanilla/half chocolate soft cone because even through the midst of so much change, there are still things that remain the same.

Leaving the comfort zone

On Saturday, I had my usual hair appointment that comes around every 7 weeks.

"Whadya think of changing your hair slightly?" She asked. "You've had the same hair for ten years.. why not change it? Change is good. It'll push you out of your comfort zone and build character..."

I nodded and said, "Sure. what the heck."

She already seemed to know what type of style she had in mind for me while she clipped away.

"Change is good. It'll push you out of your comfort zone and build character...."

I thought back to when I was just 20 years old and I packed up as much courage I could fit into my brown suitcase and left my comfort zone of family and friends to travel with five other near 20-year-old girls up Interstate 5 to live in a seedy area called the Hilltop neighborhood in Tacoma, Washington. It was a battleground between families and the monsters of poverty and crime, prostitution, drug dealers and transients. I volunteered my time to counsel many of the poor and troubled people in the 'hood with only a 6-month training course.

Everyday, it seemed the gray skies blended into the grayness of the asphalt into a bland palette of gray weariness for me.

It was by far the most serious commitment I ever made and one most laden with guilt, because I wasn't enjoying it as much as I thought I should or with the same joy the others in that line of work seemed to have.

There were many days, I wanted to give up and go home. But I didn't.

I'm so happy I stuck it out. I wouldn't have had the extremely rewarding, yet sometimes troubling experiences I had. Such as those rainy mornings when Bobbi and I waited for the city bus near 11th and south K streets to carry us to a home off South Tacoma Way where we would visit a woman who had no face. Or the endless hours spent holding a 3-month old crack baby in my arms who smelled of sickness and later died from what the nurses at Mary Bridge Children's Hospital said was from "a lack of love".

I wanted to do this work because I wanted to make a difference in this world. And, though I'm proud that I did it, I also think I didn't have enough life experience and know-how to be capable of counseling the myriad of adults with their torrid experiences. What did I know just barely out of my teens?

So in that respect, it was a hardship for me as well. I deeply respect the people who make a lifetime commitment to helping people in need. And who enjoy their life's work.

Living on the corner of 11th and South J Street seems like a vague, half-remembered dream to me now. It seemed like another lifetime ago. And in some ways it really feels like a different life from the one I am living now. But I have the photos and the memories and the friends and stories that weave it altogether and prove that it was a very real experience indeed.

. . .

I turned to see my new hair style in the reflection in the mirror. "What do you think?" she asked me.

It seemed quite different and I wasn't sure I was ready for it.

"You need to get out of your comfort zone...." she said to me.

I smiled and nodded. I thought of the many times I have left my comfort zone and only became stronger for it.

This time it's an easy adventure.

observing this very moment

Two minutes ago, I was quietly working away on new Dick and Jane fabric designs when two cleaning ladies showed up to clean the studio.

The constant roar of the vacuum motor suddenly turned into a loud shrieking sound and I saw the hose sucking up ribbons by the mile. I don't want to embarrass her, so I acted like I don't notice.

"Act casual, act casual, act casual..."

My eyes focused on the computer monitor, I don't want to appear as if I can see her in the corner of my eye.

Now.

This very moment, as I type this sentence out, she has quickly turned off the vacuum. It is silent. And she is still pulling out the ribbon like there's no end to it. She's panicked. I can see her looking down, pulling it out, looking at me, looking back down, looking back at me and pulling again on this tangled mess. My eyes still focused on the monitor pretending to be oblivious to her.

click. click. click. goes the keyboard as I type.

She is wearing loud pink pants and a loud bright lime green shirt. It's all a blur to me with her arms flailing, pulling this massive amount of ribbon from the hose.

*snap*!

She just broke off the end. Or the vacuum just did it for her. She turns the vacuum back on. It is still making that loud shrieking sound. She turns it back off. Looks into the hose. Sticks her fingers in it. Shakes it. Turns the vacuum back on. It is still loud and furious.

"Act casual, act casual, act casual..."

I never look up.

She turns it off and grabs the broom from across the room. She is headed over to my desk. I lift my feet pretending not to see her. Then I scoot my chair as close to my desk as possible, still pretending I don't notice the elephant in the room. Then I turn and give her eye contact. She bashfully giggles. And so do I with a sympathetic expression.

We don't speak the same language. But we both acknowledged our unspoken secret.

Computer hangups and letdowns

Its been an unsettling week for me as far as my computer goes.

It's the fifth time it's been completely wiped out within six months. Shouldn't a computer be more dependable than that? It's only two years old. I believed in my computer once The Apple Store installed a brand new logic board in it. Now they say it has an unstable hard drive and an unstable power button.

I trusted in my computer like one trusts a friend. I gave of myself with no second thoughts. Pure trust. No cross-examination. No scrutiny. I took it for what it seemed. I believed in it's authenticity.

It's like pouring your heart and soul into someone who you thought believed in the same meaning of loyalty and friendship as you do. Only instead, they take all your hopes and return them to you in an empty paper bag.

How does one learn to trust again?
Should I just go out and buy a new hard drive before I lose everything all over again? Or.. do I ride it out. Backing up everything... preparing myself for the inevitable and final upheaval.

Walking on eggshells is never fun. Eggshells will break in the end.

I collected photos and stacked email letters in neat folders on my hard-drive as if I would have them forever. I created bookmarks to my favorite blogs. I stored my favorite people's addresses that are now lost until they track me down again. Not to mention illustrations and designs I was working on. And, like a friend who has let me down, I blame myself for my own naivete and willingness to trust and my friend for inconsistency.

Two weeks ago, my brother gave me three trees to plant, but I only planted two. And, on Saturday morning as I laid there in my bed in those moments between asleep and awake, I thought of that last tree sitting in an upheaval in a pot between my house and the neighbor's driveway, forgotten and unwatered for two weeks. I went out there to look at it and it was so beautiful and had such a determination to live. So I dragged it into my backyard, dug another deep hole and placed her in it. She is thriving. So happy. I believe she will live for a hundred more years.

A tree that's determined to live against such odds has a long future.

I wish my computer had the same sort of drive.

You did it again

Just when I started to trust you again.

Just when I believed I could depend on you.

Even though I knew you were probably still unstable, I began to feel more comfortable with you. I believed you wouldn't let me down like you did before because you have good logic which you lacked before.

But. You did it again last night.

Shame on you Mac. You lost your drive.

You've had two logic boards put in you already and now Apple is saying your hard drive needs to be replaced. And you might be losing your power. You are only two years old Mac.

I think you are a bit fat lemon. I just can't rely on you anymore.

You are no longer the Apple of my eye.

I planted a tree

The first book I ever read on my own as a child was The Carrot Seed by Ruth Krauss.

My mother let me pick out any book I wanted and for some unknown reason, I picked out The Carrot Seed... a yellow book with a little boy on the cover dropping his little carrot seed into the ground. Maybe I picked the book out, because the little boy looked similar to another book I enjoyed called Harold and the Purple Crayon.

The Carrot Seed is a story of a little boy who plants a carrot seed, despite his mother, his father, and his big brother repeatedly telling him every single day, "I'm afraid it won't come up."

But everyday, he watered and weeded it. And his care, patience, and unshakable belief are rewarded when, one day, up pops the tall leafy green part of the carrot above his head. The final picture shows him wheeling away a huge, dark orange carrot— it has come up "just as he knew it would."

Over the weekend, I actually planted two trees. it was such a spontaneous and major act of commitment to do.

On Saturday afternoon, my brother had three chinese pistache trees growing between the sidewalk and the street of his home and he was pullin' them up to plant maples.

"Ya want 'em?".
"naww.."
"My mom, the tree lover, gasped, "Whaat?! Are you crazy!? Your naked yard needs trees! GET them!!"

So I got them home and quickly flipped through my Sunset magazines hoping to find a backyard that was shaped exactly like mine so I could copy the exact location where they planted their trees. No such luck. I had to actually make a decision. I didn't think I could do it. But I did.

And now they are planted. The photo above shows one of them. It's the prettier of the two I planted since it has some leaves.

About an hour ago, I hammered down the steaks and tied twine around them and the tree to secure them from the strong winds we are having and before long, I will have a canopy of shade in the summer.

Or not.

Someone said to me yesterday, "You didn't plant them in grass did you? Then it won't come up."

Another said, "Make sure you create a ring around the roots so you can dribble water in there twenty minutes a day for two weeks. Otherwise, it won't come up."

"Do you have good organic mulch around it? And those types of trees can't drink just regular city water ya know..." replied another shaking her head feeling sorry for me, when I looked at her bewildered.

I can't help but notice all the happy wild trees that are growing just fine, but I am like a worried mother. Going out there, and watering them with my city water and talking to them and seeing if there is any new growth to the slim tiny twig branches.

Maybe they're right. Maybe my trees won't live. But. They also could grow into fine adult trees. For now I'm doing the best I can without a lot of know-how. (Google isn't helping me much in tree planting). But... I'll keep you posted whether or not... my lovely two trees... will ever grow up. And they just might do that.

Just as I knew it would.

Riding shotgun with the bearded lady

My tow-truck driver was Ronnie. I could see she had been in a few brawls and she hadn't shaved in months.

She told me stories how she likes rough men. Men with missing teeth. Especially those she has kicked out with her own boots. "That's how I like men!" she said in her low, raspy voice. She tosses me a small bag of Hershey's Reeses Pieces. "Here! Eat some candy!"

No way would I insult the driver by declining, so I ate her candy as we travelled thirty minutes down the road while she told me stories of her fast-pitch softball days, her various sport injuries, and life on the road as a Tow Truck driver. She wants to write a book of all the crazy experiences on the road. I told her about the NYC woman cab driver who blogs her experiences and is now publishing a book. She felt inspired by that. "Look at my goosebumps!" she said. Her arms were covered with them.

Driving through town, she pulls over halfway in the middle of the road at a post office. "I'll be right back. Watch the rig..." and she runs in the post office to mail her rent check.

And then minutes later, it was all over. The ride had ended. We were at the shop.

"Take care of the little lady now," she hollers out to the mechanic. She turns and gives me a wink as she lights up her cigarette. "Nice ridin' with you!" she says as she drives off, kicking up a splattering of dirt and gravel on way to her next adventure.

TMJ is such a pain

Being a pain in the neck is one thing. Having a pain in the neck is another.

And having my face, teeth, jaw and ear ache as well, is a real kill joy. My right side of my face feels like it is clamped tight to a vise. My right ear, oozing of warmth, feels like maybe a sun-drenched jar of mayonnaise is slowly rippling down inside my ear.

Isn't that lovely?

It's been going on since mid October. Some people are claiming it to be TMJ. (TemporoMandibular Joint).

I believe them.

I can barely eat a ripened banana without breaking small pieces off and poking it into my mouth with my finger. And you know that crunchy part of the lettuce? Nope. Can't eat that at all. Too big. And you can forget about a hamburger or a sandwich.

I remember a few years ago I could listen to me chew and think how much it sounded like a bag of potato chips. I sorta got a kick out of it. Wondered if others who sat within ear shot of me got the same enjoyment.

Then there was that fun way I could move my jaw around, as though it was disjointed. "LoOoK what I can do!" I'd happily show off.

Last summer while waiting to board the ferry to San Francisco, I decided to have a sip of my bottled water. In the corner of my eye I noticed some folks near me in line watching me, so I decided to entertain them by drinking it all at once. Give them a bit of a show of sorts.

When I was finished, I noticed my jaw was very sore and I had trouble opening my mouth. I should have known better. I've experienced repercussions before in showing off.

That was the beginning. Though the pain only last a few days, it was intense and most unbearable.

It was sometime in early October when I noticed my jaw was sore again. I think it was right after I chewed a very hard bazooka bubblegum. Though in time, I managed to soften that fabulous pink gum, the texture was thick and difficult to chew. It's now been six months and I still can't even even lick my lips or run my tongue over my front teeth like the seductive young woman did in those 1970s Pearl Drops Tooth Polish commercials, while moaning, "Nnnnnnnnnnn .. it's a grrreeeaaat feeeling!"

I have an appointment with my dentist on April 24th. I scheduled it in December but April was the earliest appointment he could get me in with all his patients.

With that sort of patience, I hope he has time to wait for me while I try to open my mouth for him. The rate I'm going, I could be sitting in that chair for another six months before it opens fully for him.

Enjoying my life

i am enjoying today. And me.

I've been laughing at myself for who I am.

Didja know? I blunder my way through life most the time ... flying by the seat of my pants.

I am Harriet the Spy, I am Miss Bashful, I am Class Clown, I am Ms. Story Teller, I am the Dumb Blonde annnd the Hard Worker. I am known for saying, "yeahh, maybe that WAS a stupid thing I just did, but it sure made a good story!"

I second-guess a lot:

What will they think of what I just did?
Could I have better phrased what I just said?
Will i regret what i just did?
Will someone think less of me because... ?

Always tripping over how others will think of me instead of just being freely me and walking clearly ahead unabashed.

I am in the process of learning to not be so hard on myself.

Because life is short. We hear it over and over again. Ya gotta live it like there's no tomorrow and yet also live as if you'll live to be a thousand years. That's a quote somewhere. Couldn't tell you where I heard it or who said it. But I try to live my life that way.

The bottom line, after all is, "was i kind?" That's how we all should live, I think.
Did you injure anyone? Can you repair the damage you caused?

I hope so. It's never too late. Ever.

I had an appointment with my accountant and longtime friend today to go over my 2006 income taxes. He told me a story how he sadly lost two friends this year. One friend he had since 1978! Another since 1995. One stole his gas credit card. Another stole his tools in his garage. It hurt like hell. He said, "Ya know what Shawn? If any of them calls me to apologize.. I would forgive and welcome them back. Because they were my good friends. But. They haven't! That is what hurts me. That is what burns such a huge hole in my heart... "

My heart stung hearing his story. He was hurting more than the the ones who wronged him.

So. Today. If I didn't hurt anyone, and if I can go to bed at night and feel good about the day I just lived, then I've lived a day in my life that is filled with quality and goodness and love and kindness. And hopefully with a bit of spunk and fun and adventure, too. Then I can live happy. And I am.

I wish you the same.

"You drove off with the gas pump..."

I'm back.

--I think from all that bouncing off the walls prior to my leaving, caused me some short-term delirium as I set off for my trip.

Just less than two hours on the road, in a small town called Livermore, I drove away from a gas station passing a large crowd of people waving and jumping up and down at me and pointing wildly at my car.

My traveling friend turned to look back and said to me as calmly as saying, "you have parsley in your teeth..."

"You drove off with the gas pump.."

Indeed, it looked like a giant snake gripping on to the back side of my car for dear life. It's long thin body flipping and reeling as I drove through the lot.

I drove back to the scene of the crime (despite men waving me to "KEEP DRIVING! THEY'LL NEVER CATCH UP!")... and walked back inside, standing in line, waiting my turn to tell the man with the thick accent that I had driven off with his gas pump. Expecting to sever an arm and a leg to hand over to him, it turned out okay. He didn't charge me... and we were back on the road in no time.

We laughed all the way to the Los Angeles town where our hotel waited, only for our smiles to vanish when I realized I had forgotten to bring the confirmation paper and directions to the hotel who's name I couldn't remember. After an hour or more driving up and down darkened, empty streets looking for the hotel with a familiar name, I blindly walked into a hotel lobby asking if I had reservations there. (Of course not. That would have been too easy!) Finally, a helpful woman behind the desk at the Marriott did a google search for me and was able to point me in the right direction of the hotel across town.

A part of the trip, I stayed at the Roosevelt Hotel in Hollywood. You would love it! It's in a prime location along the Hollywood Walk of Fame and across from the Grauman's Chinese Theatre. And it has a storied past. Host to the very first Academy Awards, the Roosevelt has been the playground of stars such as Clark Gable, Carole Lombard, Montgomery Clift and Marilyn Monroe. Now the poolside Tropicana Bar attracts the newer celebrities. It was so fun and yet so wildly different than the ultra cool mid-century modern hotel in Palm Springs.

Sitting poolside in Hollywood, I felt flawed sitting next to the young self-absorbed Hollywood elite. In Palm Springs, it was a much more gentler crowd. Where we'd sit around and exchange stories. I even met another woman who shared my first and middle name.

I called Valerie Walsh while I was in Hollywood who happily agreed to meet us for dinner in beautiful Malibu. She is an amazing artist who I met on Illustration Friday. She is so beautiful. Inside and out! And she is such a delight with all her colorful stories. It was the shortest three hours I have ever spent.

My vacation was much too short. I am so grateful for my job. Don't get me wrong. But what I would give, to have my three-month long summer vacations again. Just like when we were kids. Three work days and a weekend just isn't enough time.

Road Trip

House is locked up.
Car is packed up.
And the traffic is backed up.

(Actually, I'm not sure whether or not the traffic is backed up, but I liked the way it sounded).

I'm leaving in a few of hours to drive down to Los Angeles and Palm Springs for vacation. I'm bouncing off the walls I'm so excited. The last time I was in L.A., I accidently pulled between the Osbornes and the camera crew as they drove down the street during their reality show. The last time I was in Palm Springs, I happened upon Anna Nicole-Smith (and Howard and Kimmy) on her reality show. I wonder what's in store for me this time.

See you when I return!

Kids Week

print & pattern is a website I enjoy looking through several times a week and can you imagine my delight when I clicked on it today and saw this?!

I'm working on more Dick & Jane designs now for another release.

Lives lost

I have lost two cousins within a month.

One from a short, unexpected illness. The other from a tragic car accident.

The accident happened on Sunday night. I heard about it on the radio. A fatal head-on collision. The road was closed for two hours on both sides. Whenever I hear sirens or news like that, i always whisper, "oh please god, help them be well..." you just never know when it might be someone you know. I would hope someone would whisper that for me if I were in that situation.

His father died the same way. He was my dad's younger brother. Driving along on his own side of the lane when a car came out of nowhere and killed him head-on. My cousin was 43. His father was just 46.

Three of my friends have also lost a parent these past two weeks. And a long time family friend passed away this morning.

My mom called me and told me. She said, "Ya know, I was wanting him to do tile work in my bathroom. I've been meaning to call him. And I didn't. Just goes to show you, you just never know..."

I remember going to his out-door garden wedding in a small country town in Boonville, California when I was maybe only 10 years old. He appeared so old to me. But now I'm guessing he was only in his thirties.

Within a month ago, all of these people were alive in this world. Living their life, making plans. Putting things off until tomorrow. Now they are not. Seems so sudden. So final. So unfair.

I am so grateful to be in this life. I do belong in it. For however long, isn't promised to me. I hope I make it as full as I can.

It is so beautiful outside. Spring is exploding with so much fragrance. I can hear someone hammering in the distance. I see two quail outside my window strolling quietly along on a date. And there is a fly buzzing up against the window behind me, wishing to escape back outside into this glorious weather. I wish it would, too.

I love this time of year. I wonder how many Springs I will enjoy in my lifetime. I hope to enjoy at least 50 more. Though it doesn't seem like nearly enough. No not nearly enough. Life is short.

I'm off to make the most of it.

Every snowflake is unique

Will you take a look at these photos of frozen water?

The photographs are the result of Mr. Emoto's research in freezing drops of water and then examining them under a microscope and taking photographs of them.

It is so amazing. If you have had any doubts at all that your thoughts don't affect everything around you, then this just might profoundly change your mind. It really makes you wonder doesn’t it? If words can do that to water, what are they doing to us?

The possibilities are truely endless. . .

Dick and Jane lunchbox

Here is a Dick and Jane lunchbox I designed. It will be available in stores in a couple of months. It will be filled with the perfect amount of Dick and Jane fabric to create a quilt with.
It will also have the quilt pattern inside with directions.

I don't sew.

Well. I took a sewing class in 8th grade. Miss Anderson was my teacher and she always wore chopsticks in her hair. Or maybe it was large knitting needles.

I really only remember three things about sewing :

1. The thimble.
I got such a kick out of wearing a thimble in class. I would draw a smiling face on my thumb and pretend the thimble was a hat for my thumb. I called it my "thumb buddy". "You're nobody until Thumb Buddy loves you," I would say. (cringe)

2. The pin cushion.
I loved the sensation of sticking pins in the cushion. It was a guilty pleasure.

3. The sewing machine accelerator.
I loved to press down on the accelerator of the sewing machine. I would pretend to be driving a car along a bumpy, gravel road watching the needle move up and down faster and faster. The shift would be the level in the back that I would lift to raise the needle up.

No, I didn't learn to sew very well. But it certainly satisfied my craving to drive a car just a tiny bit.

I wonder what I will do with my Dick and Jane lunchbox. Maybe I will store tubes of paints in it. Or carry my lunch in it to work. With all the warnings about different food needing to be promptly stored in the refrigerator, its a wonder none of us as kids got food poisoning from leaving our baloney and mayonnaise sandwiches out in the warm classroom for so many hours. Especially when we saved half the sandwich for after school.