A Struggle Between Wind and Wood

Laying in the sunshine with my eyes closed, the sun warming my body. Taking a much-needed break for my eyes from the computer, my body from the confines of an office chair, and my brain from a seemingly endless stream of work.

High above the tree tops I hear the wind moving towards me. The soft sound builds as it draws closer and stronger. Lower down, closer to me, I can hear the leaves — dead since last fall but still clinging to some of the oaks — rustling and moving against each other in the breeze, creating their own sound separate from the gusts of wind.

I can feel the breeze reach me, rolling over my body, swirling my hair around my face. The cool breeze feels like a clean bed sheet at night draping over me, somewhat refreshing yet producing a shiver.

Then it settles. The wind dies down.

Now I hear birds chirping in the trees. Low and slow… tweet, tweet, tweet. A fast and high-pitched twitter. A methodical and sharp chirping. A melody of birdsong further off. Something is tapping in the woods behind me – a squirrel on a nut or a bird on a branch? I don’t know. Tap. Tap. Tap. Wind chimes are suddenly noticeable, ringing softly.

No cars. No people. No machinery.

In the distance high up on my left, I hear it starting again, so faint before it builds. Another gust rolls towards me, swaying the bare tree tops and emitting a high whining sound above the quivering of the leaves. So strong it pushes through the trees, I can hear them bending and swaying from the power. It’s a struggle between wind and wood.  The wind chimes clang louder. The force of the wind and the frantic clatter of the chimes drown out all other sounds. The breeze moves over me, briefly enveloping me, and moves off to the right.

Then quiet again. The return of the bird song and chatter, and the tinkle of the wind chimes.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

So very much like our lives… periods of peace and quiet… and others of commotion and unrest.

 

Thanks for reading, please share your thoughts.

Kimberly

Grandmom’s Twitch

Right at this moment I am experiencing one of those little muscle twitches in my leg. You know the ones I’m talking about, the little ones that you feel but probably never get to see, and have no control over. Well, not really, because if you touch them, they seem to stop. So it’s almost like that particular muscle is needy, like a dog or a cat after you’ve been gone all day long, “Touch me! Touch me!”

This particular one is on my leg, mid thigh, right on top while I am sitting here at the desk. If I drop my hand to my leg, it touches it and the twitching stops. It’s been going on for an hour and driving me insane!

However, they’re not all bad. Every single time I get one, it makes me think of my Grandmom. So I’ve come to think it’s her way of communicating with me since she’s been gone.

I know, you’re probably thinking I’m crazy for making THIS connection, but here’s why.

I remember when I was a young child my Grandmom and my aunt having a good laugh about these little muscle twitches. Apparently, one time my Grandmom was experiencing one in her butt cheek and she thought we were experiencing a mild earth quake! It’s a story that made them burst out with joyous laughter every time it came up.

So, these little twitches, although annoying on the surface (literally), bring me a little element of happiness.

Thanks for reading!

Kimberly

It’s Holiday Time!

Everyone is extra busy this time of year and I’m no exception… however, my busy-ness doesn’t really have anything to do with the holidays!

Generally we keep Christmas low-key around our house. Even the years that I feel really motivated to decorate, I just don’t have that many decorations and usually opt for a small tree. Since it’s just the two of us, there’s no pressure to impress or keep up with anyone else.

However, this year I’m not decorating at all. This is Weaver’s first Christmas where he’s big enough to get to everything… like on the buffet where I would normally put the table-top tree or to reach the stockings that I usually hang from the fireplace mantel. Knowing Weaver’s inquisitive and very clumsy nature, I thought it made more sense not to create more stress in my life! We also have Roxanne now, who is a formal feral kitty and no one knows how in the world she would treat Christmas decorations. So, um, yeah… it does NOT look like the holidays at my house!

What has been keeping me busy is the re-formation of my virtual assistant business and everything that comes along with that. I’ve spent several months designing a new website and all of its content, networking with people in the industries in which I would like to work, finding new industries and forums to network within, and… shoot; the list goes on and on. You’ll hear more on this later.

I’ve also begun volunteering at a local animal rescue and devote one afternoon each week to socializing the kitty cats — even though I spend a couple hours allowing 50-odd kitties climb and love all over me, it’s definitely “me time”.

So I hope the holidays this year find you doing what you WANT to be doing — enjoying life, living in the moment, and having plenty of “me time”.

Happy Holidays!
Kimberly

Inside My Head

Hi. I’m going to try bringing you on a trip inside my head. It won’t be easy, but maybe you’ll follow enough to understand.

I’m a writer. I don’t necessarily get paid for writing, but I enjoy it and want to do more of it. Sometimes I find it a challenge to write and it’s not necessarily that I don’t know what to write about. It’s because I have a hard time getting the great formation of words and dynamic sentences transferred from my brain to the computer screen.

Like when a fantastic sentence pops into my head when I’m in the shower… well, you know it will have escaped me by the time I got to the computer.

But other times, like right now, I am “in the zone”. And it’s true; it really is a place that exists. Maybe it’s different for other people, but for me, being “in the zone” is the same as being “inside my head” — which is the term I use to describe it.

What I mean by this is almost that I can feel myself, my outward senses, withdrawing from the world. I’m not seeing anything around me. Instead I’m almost seeing the words inside my head or the picture of what it is I am trying to describe. I don’t hear what’s going on around me. I don’t even think I feel what’s touching me (like a kitty cat trying to get my attention). I’m almost not even here, which again is why I call it “inside my head”. I don’t even look at the computer screen when I type or the keyboard, instead I focus on a nothing-spot, which I don’t see anyway, and just let my fingers dance over the keyboard allowing the words to pour out of my head.

This doesn’t always happen sitting here at the computer. It actually started over lunch when some ideas were floating in from the universe and it was all I could do to pay enough attention to eat my lunch and not wear it.

My husband knows what this looks like from the outside. He’ll step into my office to tell me something and if my wits are about me enough to realize he’s even here, I can feel myself looking at him, but at the same time, right through him, and barely grasping what he’s trying to communicate. (Sorry, honey, if you didn’t realize that.) It’s like being on a cell phone with a bad connection where only a couple choppy words come across and I don’t even care enough to try to piece together the message. When I’m inside my head, I don’t get hungry or thirsty, or feel the need to get up and stretch. My physical being has only one purpose when I’m “inside my head”, and that’s to type.

Weaver "in the zone"

I envision that when I’m inside my head, I probably look a whole lot like my cat does in this picture.  He was “in the zone” when I took this photo.  He had no idea I was there snapping off pictures of him and laughing myself to tears.

I wonder if Rob laughs at me…

Thanks for reading… I hope you could follow.
Kimberly

Charleston and Savannah

Last week Rob and I celebrated our 15-year wedding anniversary (though we’ve actually been together for 19 years now) by taking a mini vacation to Charleston and Savannah. These are two towns we have wanted to visit for years and just never managed to get there. We even thought moving to North Carolina from Florida would motivate us to vacation there… it only took five years.

In any event, we finally made it.

A Charleston Home

They are both beautiful cities but completely different. Charleston reminded us of Key West in certain ways. It felt smaller, less congested, and somehow more intimate than Savannah. I think I would describe Charleston as “cozy”. Charleston’s waterfront along the tip of the peninsula felt relaxing – one side of the broad two-lane road was gorgeous mansions and the other side was wide-open waterfront with a large park at one end. All the gorgeous historic homes were placed quite close together, but I think every one of them had a porch or two or three! The cobblestoned streets were narrow and bouncy and the trees were all so mature they obscured views of many of the lovely homes. Yes, there were lots of high-end shops and restaurants, and during the day there was a lot of traffic. However, there were many people strolling the sidewalks or riding bicycles at a leisurely pace to get around. Through it all, Charleston and its people maintained a small-town feeling.

Savannah Courtyard

Savannah, on the other hand, gave much more of a touristy impression. The riverfront had a narrow and mostly concrete park, and then the authentic cobblestone road, but it was lined from end to end with restaurants, hotels, and touristy gift shops. And the next couple of main roads were the same way. Thousands of people were milling around and equally as many cars, trucks and trailers were clogging the streets. However, the homes in Savannah were remarkable in their own right, and much different than Charleston. I loved the beautifully maintained courtyards tucked between the homes and also the pocket-parks evenly spaced throughout the city… I think it’s wonderful that anyone in the historic district could walk two blocks and be in a lovely, shady park.

The people in both cities were very nice… surprisingly enough! Being a Philly girl myself, I am accustomed to less-than-cordial behavior from city-folk which is exactly why I have chosen to live in small towns my entire adult life. So it was very refreshing to visit two largely populated and widely visited cities and have people be nice and friendly. In Savannah we even met a wonderful woman and her four dogs who escorted us to restaurants she suggested for dinner. Would that happen in Murphy, sure… in Philly… I won’t answer that.

Overall I am so glad we finally had an opportunity to visit both Charleston and Savannah. And maybe, just maybe, next time I return to downtown Philly I’ll have a different perspective and expectation of the people. In the meantime, I’m back “home” in small town Appalachia where the historic homes are of a different nature, the traffic jams are few, and the people always wave and say hello.

Common Courtesy…or Lack Thereof

What ever happened to it? Where did it go?

The other morning I was at the grocery store and saw a shopping cart (they call them “buggies” here) crash into the cart-return stall next to my vehicle. I never saw the person because my attention was drawn to the stall where now four buggies were haphazardly positioned and taking up the entire stall. Four buggies! Not one of the four people that returned those buggies took an additional, what, 3 seconds to guide the buggy so that it could be stacked neatly and allow room for more to fit.

Okay, yeah, I should probably just be happy that THOSE four people even got their buggies TO the stall or didn’t shove them into my car, but still. Is it too much to ask for 3 additional seconds to stack them properly?

And twice this week alone we have been visited by people who didn’t take the time to telephone in advance. The first group of people stopped by on the weekend when we were gone all day hiking. They left a note on our door so we would know they came by. When we got inside we saw they hadn’t called ahead to see if we were here. Pity for them is they live 25 miles from us!

The second person also didn’t bother to call ahead, just stopped on by to visit. It didn’t seem to matter that I work out of my home office and I was in the middle of a time-crunch project and really didn’t have the 30 minutes to drop everything I was in the middle of to chat.

These types of visits upset me because both of these people have been asked in the past to CALL FIRST and they obviously have no respect for our wishes or schedules or privacy.

Hey, if I’m outside in my yard and you happen to drive on by and wave and we strike up a conversation, that’s different. But no one is going to be just “driving by” my house because it’s on a dead end road inside a community. Otherwise, all we ask is that you call first. We don’t drop in on people unannounced and we don’t want people doing it to us.

And one last beef to get off my chest! I purchased a printer online and it was delivered this week by FedEx Express. The FedEx driver pulled into my driveway and beeped the horn to alert us he was here. So I went out to my driveway to meet him and sign for the printer. What did that man do? He hauled that huge printer box out of his truck and handed it to me. I’m sorry; I thought delivery drivers were paid to DELIVER the boxes to your house, not your driveway. And apparently watching me struggle with it (it was heavy, large and awkward) up my driveway and the walkway to my porch and up the steps didn’t bother him in the least. It was all I could do to set it on the deck table by that point.

So maybe this is just the cosmic week for people to be inconsiderate, I don’t know. But I don’t like it. Maybe there needs to be Continuing Education for common courtesy… what do you think?

Thanks for reading,
Kimberly
(Composed on September 2, 2010)

Princess Natasha Fuzzy

I could feel it in the pit of my stomach, growing, that black hole that sucks all hope out of you. Your mind is trying to tell you different, “It’ll be fine. Don’t get ahead of yourself. There’s no need to worry yet.” But it’s that gut feeling overtaking your emotions and you know — you just KNOW — there’s no denying it.

It started yesterday afternoon when my husband and I returned home from a lovely day exploring the Nantahala Forest. After we fed all the kitties dinner, I caught a glimpse of Fuzzy moving strangely as she crawled back to her new favorite spot under an old dresser. The alarms immediately sounded in my brain and I knew even then it wasn’t good. We watched her all evening and assessed her as best we could. She had been alone in “her room” all day with the door closed so her younger brothers certainly didn’t hurt her. But something had obviously happened and was causing her to not put any weight on her left rear leg.

This morning started with a call to the vet and as early of an appointment they could give me. It was during the drive there with Fuzzy in the carrier on the seat next to me that that old sinking feeling began to overtake me. I could almost feel its blackness spreading throughout my soul, weighing me down, slowing my thoughts, numbing my senses.

Ex-rays revealed that Fuzzy had suffered a butterfly fracture in her leg. Now, this isn’t good news for any kitty cat or their human, but when the kitty in question also has lymphoma it adds a serious equation to the mix. Further ex-rays revealed the cancer can be seen on most of her ribs. The consensus is that the cancer had weakened her bones so it probably didn’t take much for her leg to snap like it did. Under normal circumstances kitty would undergo surgery to repair the leg and eventually heal to live out their life normally. Obviously, this wasn’t an option today for Princess Fuzzy. Short of stabilizing her leg and sending her home there wasn’t anything anyone could do for her.

After a short talk with my husband we agreed to what we both already knew needed to be done. Fuzzy’s comfort and quality of life was the most important thing above ALL else in that moment and she didn’t have either anymore. As mentally excruciating as it was, we made the best decision for HER and decided to let her cross The Rainbow Bridge and join her brothers and sisters who have gone before her.

So now she’s up there frolicking around, feeling young and healthy, in the prime of her life, chasing butterflies and doing her “happy dance” in the soft green grass.

Fuzzy Princess Natasha 1999-2010

Thanks for reading…though I’m sure you didn’t enjoy it.
Kimberly

Is this what I think it is?

The other night while washing my hair, a single strand became entangled around my fingers, so I grabbed it and removed it with my other hand. No big deal. I do it all the time (long hair tends to do that). But this time I noticed something different. The hair seemed to be almost invisible it was so light in color. Now, I’ve got blonde hairs and when I’m out in the sun, they can get really light, but this…this was something I hadn’t seen before. But I went about my business and didn’t think anything more of it.

The next night…same thing. Another hair calling my attention to it by winding around my fingers and hanging on, so I pulled it off and looked at it, and it was another unreasonably light-colored strand. So I really looked it over, tried holding it in different light and different backgrounds to figure out if this sucker is really what I think it is…a gray hair. I kind of came to the conclusion that it just might be. I am pushing 40. I briefly thought of saving it until I got out of the shower so I could look at it better and also get my husband’s opinion, but in the end decided it didn’t matter.

Later that night I mentioned it to Rob (he was talking about gray hair). Rob being Rob, he calmly got the flashlight out of the junk drawer and came over to me and made a big production of searching my head for a gray hair. He declared he didn’t find any. Yet later on in the evening he asked me if I were turning gray, would I dye my hair. My answer, with no hesitation whatsoever: No.

So what if my hair turns gray? It’s natural. It happens to lots of people. I’ve never considered dying my hair before – the only coloring my hair has ever received has been from ordinary sunlight – so why would I start now?

But you have to understand me as a person. I’m happy with how I look. That’s not to say there aren’t aspects of my body and looks that I do not like – because certainly there are a couple things I’ve never been happy with my whole life.  But I am who I am. This is what I look like, so be it. I’ve only worn make up to proms and weddings (I haven’t owned makeup since high school and find it hard to believe that I ever did). I don’t get my nails (or toes) done. As previously mentioned, I never dyed my hair.  Shoot, I hardly ever get my hair cut! I choose styles that are super simple because I just don’t see the point of spending a lot of time primping in the morning. I am who I am. Take me as I am. I do.

So anyway, the next time I discover one of these possibly-gray-hairs, I am going to call Rob in so he can examine it as well. It won’t change anything if it is, I just want to know. It’s just hair anyway.

Thanks for reading…I hope you enjoyed it.

Kimberly

My Personal River of Progress

Lately I’ve felt so overwhelmed by many different aspects of my life. I guess many women my age hit this weird place in their lives where everything just seems to bunch up to create a dam that stops or slows down progress (for lack of a better, all encompassing word). This calendar year has been better than the past few in that nothing devastating has gone wrong (knock on wood) but nothing has gone tremendously right either. And there are so many things I want to go right that sometimes I don’t know which ones to focus my attentions on!

I want my virtual assistant business to grow and prosper, to be better than it was at its peak a few years back. I am passionate about helping busy or disorganized business people stay on top of their game. I treat their business as an extension of my own (or better) because I know I can help them.

I want to remain self employed because I have the discipline that it requires but also like the flexibility and diversity it offers.

I want to be healthy and active. I’m at that age where I’ve developed a little pot belly and I don’t even drink beer or eat a lot of fattening foods! I miss having time to do yoga because I’m not into high impact, blood-pumping workouts. Lately I have instituted a rule that my husband and I need to leave the property one day a week and go hiking or exploring. So that’s something, but I’m afraid it’s not enough.

I still want to be a writer but finding the time to write is a huge challenge and it always gets put on the back burner. When the creative urge grabs me, I want to be able to take advantage of it – not push the thoughts aside hoping they will return to me later (because they don’t). And I don’t want to feel guilty when I do write (like right now).

I want to expand upon my new-found addiction to photography and share it with others. Meaning, I want to turn my photography into products people can buy and use and enjoy! I don’t want or need recognition, I simply want to get satisfaction out of knowing that other people like my work (this goes for the writing as well). I’ve begun gathering the tools to make this happen, but I still need the time to implement it.

I want time to spend with my husband or family or friends without feeling rushed while I am with them. I don’t want to be with my friends thinking about all the things I could be doing (but sadly some of those things involve the photography or writing or yoga or taking steps to grow my business).

So, see, it’s a jumble of “things” that have gotten lodged together and created a dam over my personal river of progress. They all seem to have appeared around the same time. What is it about NOW that they all surfaced? I prefer to take things one at a time and deal with them thoroughly and to the best of my ability. It’s like I got derailed at some point in the last couple of years and I just can’t seem to get back there, to where I felt in control of everything.

But I’m working on it. Stay tuned.

Join me…

Close your eyes. Take a deep breath. Join me.

The sun is blindingly bright and the air is warm and thick. There are no clouds in the hazy, blue sky. You’re in a small alcove enclosed by boulders of assorted sizes and shapes obscuring your view beyond where you rest. You are lying on one such smooth boulder partially submerged in a cool mountain stream which is gently flowing around your body, caressing you. You can hear cascades on either side you – water bubbling into and out of the pool which surrounds you. Small fish swim in the pool and around your feet, tickling them. Dragonflies are in pairs and one lands on the boulder next to your head – electric blue eyes with matching blue tail stripes. Chirps of birds only occasionally rise above the hypnotic murmur of the water. There are no other sounds. A mild breeze briefly raises Goosebumps on your exposed skin and sends ripples across the pond. You are alone and could easily enjoy a mid-afternoon nap right here in this peaceful location. Maybe you do, it’s difficult to know – time is unimportant here.

This is not a dream. It’s all real — well, it was real for me earlier in the week. What a fantastic way to relax, decompress and get rejuvenated all at the same time. I’m blessed to live here in the mountains where such perfect places exist.

Hope you enjoyed it.
Kimberly

http://kimberlyscontemplations.wordpress.com