Little surprises

No, I'm not pregnant. So not pregnant. :0) Not THAT kind of little surprise.

Remember I said something about looking for "what surprises" in a post last week at some point? Well, I'm been looking for them. I'm wondering if there are less surprises when you look for them, though. I mean, it kind of takes away the element of surprise if you're looking for one, right? I did find a few. Rather than post in list format, I think I'll just ramble. I'm good at it. (No surprise, right?)

Friday evening, we thought we'd try a new restaurant. We live, seriously, in the chain food capital of the world. I've heard they pilot food franchises here in our area because we have the highest per capita eating out population. Or something like that. So, we've made it our goal as a family for the last several years to try weird little family owned or off-the-track restaurants, with some misses and some hits. For a long time, we did Mexican, trying to find a really good one, but we finally gave up. We do not care to recall our last attempt. Since then, we've stuck with tried and true, if mostly adequate.

The place we went Friday was kind of a chain, but a chain local to DFW. Todd and I went to one in Dallas a few months back, the food was pretty good, and we'd seen the ads for the one more local to us. Shall we say it was interesting, and that is no understatement? We shall.

It's an Italian place specializing in Egyptian pizza (Huh? Yeah. Oval, very thin, cut into strips, pepperoni nowhere in sight.) We did get pizza, and it was pretty good, although not as good as the NY strip steak with "special butter sauce" and fettucini alfredo we had in Dallas. The girls (my daughter and her friend) stuck with the traditional and oh-so-Italian cheeseburger and fries. The fries were cottage sliced, which puzzled them a bit (read: got eaten by the adults).

These were greatest surprise elements: (oh, I guess I WILL make a list. A short one.)

1) When I called to get specific directions (I was hoping for an intersection), the guy told me it was in the same parking lot as Show-time Caberet. Hmm, perhaps that should have been a warning. The small town where it's located has a great reputation for these establishments, but we didn't expect it to be quite so ... close. (EDIT: Spelling incorrect on the business name. Leaving it that way on purpose to keep the vultures away. My traffic already increased dramatically this morning as a result of this post, and I wondered if that would happen! Creeps.)

The truth is, the restaurant is in the same BUILDING as SC. The unisex restroom, in fact, shares a WALL with SC. The girls were fascinated by the loud, pounding music coming from the other side of the wall. We tried to explain that it was a bar of sorts, and they said it sounded like dance music. We said, well, yes ... and told my 10-year-old's friend to explain to her parents later that we did not intend to take her to a restaurant that shared a parking lot, building, or restroom wall with a bar where there was lots and lots of, um, unusual dancing going on. :)

2) The restaurant in Dallas probably seated 100 or so. This location had a "capacity 49" sign, but only about 7 tables, maybe 30 seats max. Definitely geared for the small town crowd. (Perhaps the between dances crowd.) When we got there, the only lighting was flourescent strips over the cooking area, which was walled off by a shoulder high partition. It was about 8 p.m., so it was nearly dark outside already, but there was no lighting at all over the tables. Todd whacked me on the head with his menu at one point when he said I was stealing his light from the kitchen while he was trying to read. After we'd been there about 30 minutes, the one waitress came around and lit the little oil lamps on the tables. Up to that point, we were quite literally in the Twilight Zone.

Anyway, that was so weird it was funny. Lots of surprises.

That was Friday night. Friday morning, I was on my way to pick up girls from swim team and transport them to school when a low billboard on the country lane I was driving caught my eye. I didn't notice it until I was almost past, but I swear it said, "Paranormal Investigations." I did a double take, but it was too late. When the girls got in the car I asked them to remind me to read the sign again when we drove past. We were all psyched, ready to be really amazed and taken aback by a paranormal investigations agency in our sleepy little middle school neighborhood.

But, tell me, doesn't this look like Paranormal Investigations if you look at it really fast while swinging your head?

But before I solved that mystery, I was waiting at a stoplight behind a big ol' truck carrying something. The logo on the back of the truck indicated it was Hardox. It said, "Hardox in my body."

I don't know what Hardox is, but it was brown, runny, and streaming out of the back at a rapid pace. If they wanted to keep claiming they had Hardox in their body, they needed to plug up those slits fast.

And those ... are my little surpises. I might ought to get back to beauties.

From the trenches

We're in the midst of Texas tornado season. When it's tornado season in Texas, you've gotta be prepared, right?

I have this little O/C routine when the television radar says bad weather is approaching. You can't miss it--it's like a national crisis. All the tv stations go to special weather reports. Usually, the radio stations igore it, though. I haven't figured that out. Oh, and the sirens don't always sound, as I've mentioned. Perhaps the always elusive "they" figure the world is glued to American Idol, anyway, so other warning systems are irrelevant.

Wednesday night, we got the radar reports and I started my routine. I am convinced if I follow it to the letter, the bad weather will pass, leaving us unscathed. So far, it's worked, so I say it's a good routine, even if my husband thinks I'm a little off.

Here's how it works. I fill a small laundry basket with the things I would miss most if my house fell down around me. Into the basket goes my laptop computer and charger, my external hard drive with old files and photos, my purse with my i.d., cards, and cell phone, my old cell phone that functions like a tiny flashlight, and, of course, my wedding and honeymoon albums.

I place the basket in the floor of the laundry room. (The amount of faith I put in the laundry room is nothing to be sneezed at. If it's in the laundry room, it will be fine, okay?) I have an additional plastic tub full of other family pictures, and it slides in beside the laundry basket. If these things survive, along with my husband and children, all will be well. Nearly everything else can be replaced.

Well, this year, I've started adding additional items to the basket as time allows. I mean, if you've got 20 minutes until the storm arrives, why not add a pair of tennies? Socks? Favorite pillow. Water bottle. All practical stuff, right?

When the warnings pass, I unpack everything, and life goes on. If the weather is iffy for the next day or so, I'll sometimes leave the things I don't immediately need in the basket. Takes less energy to pack the next time.

So, we had that kind of night Wednesday. Todd was out of town, and we talked on the phone about how everything had calmed down again, but the rest of the week was sketchy. I went back to my regularly programmed computer surfing and eventually headed for bed. I usually read for a while before I go to sleep, but couldn't remember where I'd put my books.

I'd taken them along to the girls' piano lessons earlier that afternoon, and thought I remembered bringing them in the house along with the fast food we always get when Todd's out of town. Alas, they weren't in the usual spots I drop things.

Oh, well, I thought, I'll get them out of the car tomorrow.

I grabbed another book (after all, I'm reading about 30) and read it instead.

Yesterday, I never made it to my car. Didn't have carpool duty at any time of the day for a change, so never emerged from the house. Late last night, I wanted to read again, and was so frustrated with myself for waiting until it was too dark and creepy outside again to check the car.

Oh, well, I thought, I'll get them out of the car tomorrow.

A few minutes later, I was distracted by other things, but walked by my little emergency laundry basket. Huh, I thought. I had never unpacked the extras. Tennies ... socks ... hard drive ... bottle of water ... yep ... all there. And ...

Pat Conroy's Beach Music. Donald Maass's Writing the Breakout Novel.

I would like to flatter these two men by saying theirs are the two most important books in my life. Unfortunately, it would be a lie. What it boils down to is I get bored sitting anywhere with nothing to do. I always take a book. I guess in my reasoning the other night, I figured if the house fell down around us, I'd be happy to have the two books I was most engrossed in while we were sitting in a shelter.

Or maybe if the tornado was only an F1 or F2, I'd read until it was over.

For me, art *does* imitate life

I should be asleep, considering I went to bed around 3 a.m. after working on a contract deadline and got upt up at 7:30 for carpool duty. I'm sure it will soon hit me that I only had 4.5 hours of sleep and I will pursue my second shift.

But for now ...

Todd and I had a little 5th anniversary getaway this weekend, all the way to Southlake, about 30 miles from home. We made a stop Saturday night at the Ft. Worth Main Street Arts Festival before returning home. We wanted to check out the Quebe Sisters Band, so we got our cheesecake to go from the Cheesecake Factory. If you think this was a brilliant idea, remind me to remind you, it was not. The normally delightful desserts were warm and squishy by the time we drove 45 minutes, looked for parking for 30, and walked another 30. Ewww. Anyway, I digress.

Those Quebe girls can certainly play fiddle and sing swing. I've read about them in the paper for years, and it was nice to finally get a chance to see them live. Looks like they'll be at the Scottish Fest this summer, too.

When they finished, we decided to stroll up Main and check out some of the art booths before they closed (which, as it turns out, was about five minutes later), and I noticed something interesting. Whenever I'm at something like the arts fest, or an art museum, or in a store with art or books about art, I am inevitably drawn to the photographs. I enjoy other mediums as well, but the photos draw me like paper clips to magnets. I can stare at a photo for a long time, as my family will attest, just checking out the details, thinking about what might have been going on in or out of the frame.

And then it occurred to me that I've always told people how, when I was a child, I was never really that interested in cartoons. I had a few favorites--the Jetsons or the Flintstones--but on Saturday mornings, I always counted the minutes until the CBS Children's Film Festival began. When Kukla, Fran, and Ollie introduced a short film, I couldn't wait to see what it was about that week. Real kids, real lives.

In the same vein, I have never been a big reader of fantasy or sci/fi. I enjoyed the Chronicles of Narnia (who didn't?), and a few other stories that had some fantasy elements, but overall, I've always wanted real stories about real people in real situations. To this day, I can't wait to sink my teeth into a book that details the dilemmas of people who could be real.

And at the theater? Do you see me shelling out the bucks for Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings or the Matrix? Only under duress. Todd and I went to see Smart People this weekend, and while it was really quite sad overall, I liked it. It resonated with me, well beyond the two hours in the theater. For instance, one of the poignant lines that stuck with me was when Lawrence (Dennis Quaid) said to his daughter Vanessa (Ellen Page), "You don't seem happy." Vanessa answered, "You're not happy, and you're my role model." I like it when things make me think hard. That made me think hard.

And guess what I'm writing? Stories about real people and real lives and real situations ... or they could be, anyway.

What about you? Are there parallels between other art mediums you love the most and what you typically read or write?

Or ... am I just boring? (DON'T ANSWER THAT OUT LOUD!!)

I'll try to get back to recording some of my "beauties" this week, but maybe using some different tactics. An article I read about essay writing last week suggested watching for what surprises you every day, so this week, I'm watching for surprises.

That's my boy

If you go here, to my other blog (where I talk mostly about my family and other silly stuff that comes to mind), you can read all about what happened last night, as evidenced in the photo in the post below! Figured I'd take up a little less of my space doing it this way because there are more pics.

Dreams can come true

Too tired to say more, but too giddy to sleep, so for now, I'll leave you with this:

So proud.

Good together

Latest writing news...
I never got a printout from Office Depot for assorted silly reasons, but I finally printed my manuscript to PDF Friday and started reading it that way. I could NOT leave stuff alone otherwise. The result is I had only made it through about 80 pages in about two weeks. My original plan was to read it straight through after making a few big fixes, just to get a gut reaction to the whole story now that it's fermented for a while. But no, the editor part of me just goes a little crazy given the opportunity.

On PDF, I have the ability to highlight passages that bug me, and I can use the commenting tool here and there if I want to, but it sure is less tempting. So, we'll see what happens this week. I ought to be able to get through the whole thing before Friday, I'd think, although I did take on a little contract editing work this week just for kicks. (Yeah, the money's nice, too.) That should only take me a few hours, maybe four at the most.

So, to those of you who have asked lately about the book--
First, thanks for asking. Really. It means a lot to me. And ... that's the status. Not much to report, but it's going well, little by little.

Moving on to my beauties. Seems like in Spring, everything and everyone wants to pair up. As I've driven or walked in the neighborhood the last few days, the things that have jumped out at me are all the things in twos. I guess the beautiful weather (between storms, anyway) and optimism that come with Spring just make us want to get together with others and celebrate it. Like ...

1) The trees whose branches meet above my head in the street, touching leafy fingers and noses and ears as they gossip about what's going on below.

2) The older couple out for their daily constitutional, dressed in their matching sweatsuits and walking a pair of matched poodles.

3) Two carloads of teenaged boys, stopped at an intersection with their windows down, hollering about where they're headed.

4) A father and preschool son, pulling weeds together in a yard, the dad with an overflowing sack, the boy with enough pride on his face to make up for his mostly flat one.

5) A girl and boy, about five years old, taking synchronized scooter rides down a driveway, over and over. Each time, yelling "Bombs away!"--a tiny, but welcome speck of innocence in our war-weary world.

How about you? When it's Spring, who do you want to hang out with?

(Hey, April's nearly half over. If you're sick of the beauties, we're halfway there! But I still challenge you to pay attention to what's around you, every single day.)

I know you're good for me

You change me like the weather

You change me for the better

We're good together

(David Wilcox/Good Together)

Everyone knows it's Windy

Look how early it is and I'm blogging. How did the planets align to make that happen?

Well, I'll tell ya, it was just craziness in our part of the world, and after I brilliantly stayed up until 2:30 this morning watching that movie then reading for another hour, DFW fell apart. Was up again from 3:30 until about 4:15 with tornado warning-ness. The -ness because as excited as our tv stations get about bad weather, it is often highly confusing who exactly is under a warning, especially since the sirens in our area have the lovely reputation of malfunctioning.

Some of our neighbors were hidden in closets and laundry rooms, others were sound asleep without a care in the world (which would have been the correct choice, in retrospect). We, in our household, were somewhere in the middle. I was awake watching the tv after dragging the girls downstairs to sleep on the couches, until or unless it was deemed appropriate to move to an interior space and put pillows over our heads. Todd was asleep with a pillow over his head because tornadoes and tornado warnings don't phase him. Not one bit. I think Mom was watching her tv, too.

At any rate, in our neighborhood we lost a few leaves off our trees, and that was the extent of our excitement other than lack of sleep. (Thank goodness. Many others, unfortunately, were not so lucky.)

Moving on to swim team tryouts, which were of course from 6:45 to 7:45 this morning, was no less exciting. After much confusion and trauma involving identifying the correct date and obtaining the proper paperwork from our family doctor, Emilie arrived at her big event WITHOUT it. So, yeah, at 6:15 this morning, I was making the 30-minute trip down to the pool with the paper. We were carpooling, and I was on the pick-up end, so I just stayed until time to take the girls to school at 8.

Needless to say, I slept today. Not enough, though, so I'll be hitting my z's much earlier tonight.

And the subsequent topic for today's beauties?

Wind.

At 4 a.m., the wind was not beautiful. Not at all. In fact, it was downright ugly. But at 4 p.m., on yet another chauffeur run, it was strangely fascinating. We had an absolutely gorgeous, sunny day, about 90 degrees and blue skies. And here's what I found in the field behind Emilie's school while I waited an hour for her to come out after her call that she'd be ready in "ten minutes." (Sigh.)

1) A field of plump white clover, so dense that when the wind swept across, it looked like a huge crowd of tiny spectators, wearing white gloves and applauding in the air.

2) The thick stand of trees at the back of the field dipped and swayed in unison, like a gospel choir.

3) Single trees in close-up view blurred like impressionistic paintings.

4) An 8th grader exited the school, and every single paper in her binder flew up, out, and away. She and her friends screamed hysterically and chased down as many as they could. It was emergency teamwork, and surprisingly joyful. They laughed their heads off the whole time, and each time they repeated the story to newly arrived friends over the next ten minutes, it got bigger and better.

5) This is more bizarre than beautiful, but still worth mentioning. The lovely purple wisteria vines? Today, after the storm, not a single blossom remained. Forgotten again until next spring. The lesson here? Beauty is fleeting! (I didn't write that.) Enjoy it while you can.

Who's tripping down the streets of the city

Smilin' at everybody she sees?

Who's reachin' out to capture a moment?

Everyone knows it's Windy

("Windy"/the Association)

Wanna be a part of history? Join The Cult of Sincerity

I have only one beauty to report tonight. I happened to get an e-newsletter from a favorite singer/songwriter, Jake Armerding, earlier this evening. He mentioned two of his songs were featured in an independent film that released today (well, EDIT yesterday, actually--April 8th, two days ago. I was mixed up on dates last night!).

Cool, I thought, way to go Jake! On closer inspection, I saw that the movie premiered on youtube. Whaaaaaa?????

Yep, this little film, The Cult of Sincerity, premiered on youtube.com



People in the publishing business are always talking about the newest technology coming down the pike to deliver books to the public. The Kindle, an electronic reader from Amazon, has been a hot topic for the last several months. There is the great debate--will paper books ever completely go away? And most writers say with righteous indignation, "NO WAY." We love our paper books, we do.

On the other hand, most published authors also realize they have to embrace new technologies if they want to stay in the game. There are legitimate fears, though. What if suddenly it's all free on the internet? How will writers make any money (not that they make much to begin with)? Who will be motivated to write if it's all free anyway? Will it be supported by advertising? Tough questions, indeed, and of course, only time will tell. The Kindle, by the way, isn't cheap. It's $399, but it's currently sold out on Amazon!

So, here it is, April 8, 2008 (yesterday) and the first full-length feature film ever debuted on youtube is out there. When I checked, there were over 6,000 views. Did every person watch the full movie, as I did? Hard to say, but it certainly generated some buzz in one day two days on youtube.

At any rate, I did watch the whole thing. I thought I'd check out a few minutes, and if I was engaged, I'd watch the first quarter, then watch more tomorrow. But, soon, I *was* engaged, and watched the whole thing. I won't lie and say I didn't surf a little while I watched, and yet. It was pretty good, quality wise, and it had a great message. I was glad I glanced at a few comments below the viewer that said the first scene was a little jerky, but to keep watching, because that was true.

The cool thing here, though, is how the producers, two fairly unknowns from NYC, are making money. They ask viewers to visit amiestreet.com, an independent music outlet, purchase song credits for three bucks, then they can download the full movie, get songs, and on top of all that, Fount of Mercy, a nonprofit that links Western organizations with groups who provide orphan care in Africa, gets two dollars, too. I guess the theory is that people sign up with amiestreet.com and will return, and they will make their money back. (I might have the details mixed up--listen to their blurb at the beginning of the film yourself.)

Creative marketing using new technologies? I'd say so. Who loses?

So, be a part of history, go check out The Cult of Sincerity. If you are so moved, do as they say and support it financially, too. (I haven't yet, but I just might tomorrow.)

There it is. The vines had greened out considerably by the time I took this picture last Friday. For the first week or so, they were just grey and ropey, with these incredible purple flowers hanging upside down. This is along the one-lane road you have to take to my daughters' schools. Not a bad view this time of year when you're sitting behind school buses and a hundred other cars. Every year, after the blooms are gone, you forget it is wisteria, until the miracle happens again.

Today's beauties. Hmm ... I'm really getting lazy again.

1) The book section at Target. Big enough to make me whine about all the wonderful books out there and the limited amount of time and money I have to buy and read them, yet small enough to give me hope.

2) The taste of our favorite "fruit salad" for dinner. Lite canned peaches with only half the juice poured off, mandarin oranges, sliced bananas, and the finishing touch, mini marshmallows! Maybe not as healthy as it could be, but I'm willing to bet we all get two or three servings of our fruits and veggies for the day when we crack open those cans, peel that banana, and drop in a handful of those minis.

3) Just the thought of three-year-old Ian wearing a tie to the mall on a Tuesday because he felt like it.

4) The silky, cool feel of the newer "tissue weight" shirts and tees. (I really had to struggle to find a "touch" beauty. I need to be watching for these more. Sounds, too. It was a quiet day.)

And that is all. I can't do five. I'm on notice for tomorrow. Must get out of the house before 5:30 p.m.!!

And here's the reflecting pool at the Modern.

Catching up on my beauty sleep ... er, post

Somehow, the last three days slipped by without me posting any beauties. Durnit, how did that happen? Oh, well, it's the spirit of the law and not the letter of the law, right? I'll do as many as I remember from the last few days (because I *have* been watching, just not blogging), and then I'll quit.

I'll also post a photo or two of wisteria here, per Carleen's request. The quality of the photos is lacking, unfortunately, but at least you'll get an idea of how it looks. When I bushwhacked into the spot where I took the pictures, I also noticed how wonderful it smelled, so that can be my first beauty. I've read about the scent of wisteria before, but I'm not sure I've ever been close enough to experience it. It's light, not at all overwhelming, although I imagine if you were beneath an arbor covered with the stuff at dusk, it might be intoxicating. It made me think of the faint scent of grape Koolaid, and that's the closest I can come to describing it.

I like Barbara Samuel's post today about how we feed our inspiration, or Girls in the basement, or muses, or however you like to describe it, and that's just what I'm trying to do with identifying five beauties each day.

1) The aforementioned grape Koolaid scent of wisteria. Perfect.

2) The third Sunday night of Jane Austen on PBS with my daughter, and my older daughter joined us tonight, too. We decided we might even try to read some of these novels out loud while school's out this summer.

3) Friday evening, the shallow reflecting pool at the Modern Art Museum in Ft. Worth, with the skyline in the background. I may try to post a photo of that, too. We took the girls to get some culture on before gorging ourselves on ...

4) Pappas' bleu cheese bacon burgers. Anything with bleu cheese is beautiful in my sight.

5) Two brothers, about 7 and 9, in the waiting room at the dentist office. (I'm cheating, this was last week, but I keep remembering it, so I think that counts.) I watched them giggling and wrestling and inspiring each other to great mischief. I commented to their mother how different it is to watch two brothers than two sisters, or a brother and sister, which is what I've experienced in my own home and growing up. (My little brother and sisters were much younger than my older brother and me.)

5) A really good nap, which I had today. (Hmm, what sense would that fall under?)

6) The crackling silence right before a movie starts, followed by the film producer's little blurb. (I can't think of the right term.) I get chills, every time, when the MGM lion roars, or the Fox Searchlight flashes, or Focus Features' blurry circles intertwine, or Columbia's Lady Liberty holds up her torch. They all cast a spell on me, and I sink in for a two-hour escape from real life. Wait. Did I already do this one? Or something like it? Oh, well.

7) Bruster's fudge ripple ice cream in a waffle cone. Melty, creamy, rich, and dreamy. (And now you can see why the weight-o-meter to the right still hasn't budged.)

I think that's all I remember. I'm stretching. I'll be more attentive tomorrow.

Blogger said no go on posting photos tonight, except one up close of the wisteria taken with my cell phone camera at the Ft. Worth Botanic Gardens a few weeks ago. Maybe tomorrow...

Weary

I think I underestimated the amount of time two things would take in my life:

1) My voice II class with Barbara Samuel.
2) Allowing my kid to be in band.

:-)

Neither are wasted, nonetheless, that was my day. This is the first time I've been on blogs today, which is probably some kind of record.

Today's beauties,

1) Wisteria. This stuff is amazing. It appears as if by miracle, lush lavender grape-like clusters, hanging upside down on vines that look completely dead. I mean, grey, broken, scraggly, look like they need to be cut down and removed vines. Speaking of bluebonnets, my daughter didn't know what Wisteria was called and named it "Upside down bluebonnets!"
2) Djembes. (Amazing djembe player in my daughter's band competition this afternoon. Wow.)
3) Clean, sweetsmelling little girl hair all fixed up for picture day.
4) Quiet after everyone else has gone to bed.
5) Fresh butter-flavored tortillas from Kroger. Yum yum!

The beast and the beauties

Haven't mentioned the story in a while because I was having major struggles and long periods of self loathing after reading the first several chapters. Of course it didn't help that it was juxtaposed against some great books I've been reading. I was pretty much ready to toss it out the window and hope a passerby could do something more with it. I obviously could NOT.

I've heard that happens.

This afternoon, I made a simple fix. I switched the order of a few of those chapters, and VOILA!, I'm moving forward again. Amazing how sometimes all it takes is a little thing to make a story work so much better.

So, today's beauties ... I'm in a bird rut.

1) Sight: Two birds flying in PERFECT tandem, like an ice skating pair about to win a gold. No matter which way the one in the lead turned and dipped, the other was in perfect synch behind.

2) Sight: Blue bonnets and red bonnets and primroses finally making an appearance in the medians after a long, wet, chilly beginning to Spring.

3) Scent: The incredibly rich, delicious smell of brownies baking as we walked into the girls' piano teacher's house today.

4) Touch: The soft underside of her baby's foot as we played with her during lessons. Couldn't resist running my finger up and down its length several times even thought it obviously tickled!

5) Sound: Hearing a favorite song played in the background on a Scrubs rerun. (The World Spins Madly On/The Weepies)

If I use a smaller font, it looks like I wrote a shorter post! Yay! ;)

April challenge: Five Beauties

I recently read something in a book. Unfortunately, I can't remember which book, but it was probably Robert McKee/Story or Julia Cameron/Finding Water. I think it was Cameron. Sorry ...

Anyway, the writer gave the advice of watching for Five Beauties, every single day, to enhance not only your writing or other art medium, but also your inner life. They can be simple or involved, abstract or concrete. I started doing this casually a few weeks ago, just mentally noting things as I saw them, but I'd like to do it more formally this month. I want to challenge you to do it, too.

I'll attempt to make a record here as many days in April as I can, although there might be some I keep to myself, either for personal reasons or because "you can't say that on television!!" ;)

I might add them to the end of another blog post, or just let them stand alone. Keep me accountable, would you? And try it yourself. Let's see what it does for our work. Let me know if you're playing in the comments, and I'll be sure to check yours out, too.

Getting started here for April 1. I'm assigning a sense to each item when I can, just to be sure I'm not only looking, but also listening, touching, smelling, and tasting.

1) Sound: Birdsong. It's amazing how sharp and clear this sound is even when traveling through the double-paned windows of my house. (I need to get out more, obviously.) Several birds are conversing outside as I type. One sounds angry.

2) Sound: The tick of the oversized clock on my wall in the silence of my house. Could be like water torture, but it's surprisingly soothing to me during the day.

3) Sight: A teen boy, maybe 14 or 15, running with his dog. He wore a white t-shirt and black shorts, and was quite pale and had black hair. He was tall and lanky. His dog was mostly white, but had three or four large, irregular black patches. He was tall and lanky. They matched.

4) Sight: The Yaupon Hollies (I think) in the parkways. The branches were covered densely with bright red/orange berries, but they have bloomed out into green leaves on about the last foot of each branch. They reminded me of Kokopelli, with his spiky hair.

5) Sight: At the grocery store, someone had left two homemade-looking chocolate chip cookies on top of stacks of bottled tea. I wondered if someone forgot them, or they were poisoned, but they were very pretty anyway! Weird one ...

I need to be more aware of things I can smell, touch, or taste tomorrow, don't I?