The Other Shoe

You know the old saying ‘waiting for the other shoe to drop.’  Well – it did yesterday.

My son was out mountain biking (alone) and took a fall. He broke his collar bone and now can’t work for several weeks. This is just another thing that has recently happened that just adds up to bad karma. People sometimes think I’m a little pessimistic, but I say I’m a realist because ‘the other shoe always drops’ for me, for some reason and I just can’t catch a break.

I know he’s the one with the broken shoulder, but he lives with me. He doesn’t have health insurance because he quit school last year and we can’t cover him. Nor does him employer offer insurance and he can’t afford private insurance. So I’ll be taking care of him, paying his bills, and trying out how to pay for it all because he can’t work with one arm strapped down.

Sorry for the vent. I’m just trying to figure out what I did wrong to deserve this bad karma I’ve had lately.

A Lost Love

A folded note. A dried flower. An old invitation. Scrapbooks, photo albums, and yearbooks. Things we look through to remember our past. And, then there are the things totally forgotten. Things we once said, things we once heard, things we used to do. Lost loves in our lives.

I’m not talking about a man. I’m talking about something I use to do for hours. Whether sitting on my bed, or at the table, or anywhere the mood hit me. I use to draw.

My mother found a few drawings I had done during Junior High and High School.  I did not remember that she had them and thought they were long gone.  I vaguely recall each one.  Probably for some assignment in art class, but I’m glad she felt compelled to keep them because I’m having trouble remembering the girl who drew them.  

While they aren’t perfect or art gallery worthy, I do recall I spent hours doodling and drawing.   Now, it is a lost talent I fear. 

I once thought I’d attend the Art Institute in Chicago, major in Graphic Design and then move to New York and work for a big magazine.  Never happened. 

Through the years I continued my interest in creating things through other media.  Ceramics.  Decorating.  Photograph.  Computer graphics.   But, to sit down in front of a blank piece of paper and create something – I’ve lost that along the way.  Drawing something from a photograph, a memory, or real life use to come naturally for me, but now is a lost love.

The great thing about it – this lost love – it has been found.  And, remembered.  Possibly to be a love again.  Time will tell.  All I have for now is the signature of the girl who drew these way back when – the girl was me – so I know she’s in here somewhere.

Thanks, Mom – for saving these for me.

Where does the time go?

June 16, 1988 – 6:09 PM

Daniel Anderson was born - my baby.

Today, my baby turns 21.  He’s a man and I’m old.  Well – older!

Floating on the Buffalo River

Fishing on the Kings River

Fishing on Beaver Lake

He is very ‘out-door-zee’ (like his father).  Happy Birthday, Daniel!  You’ll always be my baby no matter what age. 

And, June 16, 2007 – these two tied the knot!

Happy Anniversary (2nd) Emily and Kyle!

Emily has finished grad school and they are building their first home this summer.  Kyle just received the head baseball coach position for the high school too.  Congrats you two!

Love – your Mom – aka Starwoodgal

(I’m old.  I need a tissue.  I’m blaming my thyroid.)