The View Up Here

Hopefully not the last, but pretty darn close, I'd imagine. This last weekend of summer has been very summery. Yesterday after T'ai Chi class (I got to teach, again!), I decided to go kayaking. But I wanted to take out a hard shell kayak rather than my inflatable because I figured water levels would be lower this time of year, and I didn't want to run afoul of my skeg (fin on the underside of the boat to help it track straight). I rented a big ole orange kayak from Bay Creek Paddling Center and headed first down Irondequoit Creek. The water was very calm, and yes, it was low, as the lady warned me when I registered my rental. I got to see schools of little fish, a turtle diving, and several common song birds. I did have to do some maneuvering to escape the people who chatter and talk while kayaking (as in, kay- YAK- ing); otherwise, a very peaceful little turn around the creek. I then headed out to the southern end of Irondequoit Bay that empties into the creek. It was her...

A couple weekends ago, I went on a vocation discernment retreat with the Benedictine Sisters of Elizabeth, NJ. It was a beautiful weekend away, and I came home with a renewed intimacy with Jesus. I accept that as long as I am in the world serving in ministry, I need a monthly renewal retreat. That had been a long time coming after months of ministry with no time set aside for God alone outside the normal every day routines. I won't make that mistake again! I am still discerning my life path and listening. What is Jesus whispering to my heart? For now, I am in Elmira, praying and striving to be present as I help prepare young people for the Sacrament of Confirmation, hold a bi-weekly women's prayer group, and bring Holy Communion to the homebound. I am drawn to the woods, to quiet nature. I am drawn to water in any form - stream, brook, river, lake, ocean. I am drawn to silence and certainly to contemplative prayer. I am drawn to rhythms, seasons, pulses, not the unrelentin...

Glorious!

If you're like me (and you may not be), you don't really like exercising. Lots of people seem to love it -  they like to run, they like to push their body to the edge of endurance and beyond. If they don't want to break someone else's record, they want to break one of their own (even if it's only a personal best, no where in any official record books). And to these I say:  awesome! It is a blessing that you are gifted with this focus. Then, however, there's the likes of me. I would rather sit and read. Or sit and pray. Or lie down and read. Or watch the clouds roll by from a supine position. Okay, and I absolutely love LOVE to swim and be in the water of any sort ( except for Lake Ontario's algae-ridden shores this time of year ). However, that's not always an option. Neither is this, apparently: via GIPHY Fortunately, I do like to walk. I like seeing things, places, animals, people at eye level in person, rather than speeding by in a car or th...

Gonna do this for awhile. The group Zero 7 is not a Christian band, but I've loved their music for ages, and now I read the lyrics with a different spin on them. For example, this song, "Spinning." It's an apt description of the longing I believe we all have to be set free by God's love (however you name that or think of that to exist in the universe). It certainly describes my own powerful experience of Redemption. "Spinning" by Zero 7 Was it loneliness that brought you here Broken and weak Was it tiredness that made you sleep Have you lost your will to speak Was the earth spinning round Were you falling through the ground As the world came tumbling down You prayed to God what have we done Free me from these chains I need to change my way Heal these broken wings I need to fly far away, far away, far away Was it emptiness that made you weep No more secrets to keep Was it bitterness that gave you time To forgive your sins Was the ear...

The novel is off to the editor, so I'm taking a break. Last night a friend called to come over and watch the third episode of Sherlock Series 2 (if you haven't watched Sherlock, you absolutely must do and soon), and we sat and drank wine all night, joined by my roommate when she got home. I stayed up much later than I ever do any more, and slept in. And now I'm having a prog rock morning. Thus far: King Crimson and Emerson Lake and Palmer. I'll be getting back into my sci fi screenplay this afternoon along with some over-due laundry. For now, I'll leave you with some ELP to get your afternoon in gear: And one of my fave King Crimson songs: Aaand another, just to round things out:

My days are all jumbled up and I'm jumping around from one thing to the next without pause. It's okay, though. I am productive when things get like this, though I am inevitably glad when things calm down. Having coffee with people before I leave, sending out Christmas prezzies to family in Boston, writing a few holiday cards, working on projects that I need to finish before I leave town, applying for jrrbs (which takes up 80% of my time, between revising resumes, writing covers, and figuring out who to address the letters to because those job search websites are designed to keep us poor slobs job seekers in the dark as much as possible). Enjoying every minute of it, though!

Happy Monday morning. It's finally feeling like winter in Central New York. Brrrr. Temps in the teens and twenties. No worries. I'll be back in Cali in a few short weeks! Let's get this Monday morning cranked up! Dial it up to 11!

No Robits Month would be right or complete with out The Robots (sorry, no embedding allowed there), by Kraftwerk . According to that monolithic font of Wisdom and Accuracy, Wikipedia: The lyrics reference the revolutionary technique of robotics, and how humans can use them as they wish. The Russian lines "Я твой слуга" ( Ya tvoi sluga , I'm your servant) and "Я твой работник" ( Ya tvoi rabotnik , I'm your worker) (also on the rear sleeve of the album) during the intro and again during its repetition at the bridge are spoken in a pitched down voice, the main lyrics ("We're charging our batteries and now we're full of energy...") are "sung" through a vocoder. Techno group Kraftwerk captured my imagination in college, which didn't have much to do with any substances that may or may not have been present in my system at the time. Coming out of a tiny urban depression in the shale of Upstate New York (i.e. Elmira), where the on...

I spent almost the entire day at my temp job in the records room/vault filing shit-tons of paperwork that's been piling up for months. Seriously, someone should hire an efficiency consultant or something. Word on the street is they're getting a scanner to go paperless. I think that's a good idea, but that doesn't help my raw, dry fingertips and aching shoulders and neck. Anyway, I stepped out the door at 5:00 into wind and rain, but I didn't mind, because it was still quite warm, and the air smelled clean and good. Also, the precipitation was not snow, for which I am immeasurably grateful. I got in my car, and on the drive home found "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" on one of the many classic rock stations that dominate the middle of the dial in these parts. How perfect, I thought. And so, if you have 20 minutes to kill, here it is, in all its live Gordon Lightfooted glory:

Today I went to visit Jenny, one of my oldest and best friends, who was visiting her family in Big Flats, NY. When I was a kid, by the way, I used to confuse the names of the neighboring towns of Big Flats and Horseheads and called it "Flatheads." Used to frustrate the hell out of my mom. Anyhoe, as always, seeing Jenny reminds me of who I am and where I've been. And we always tell stories of when we were teenagers driving our parents crazy - oh we laugh about it now but back then it was serious business. Today we noted how much we grown-up daughters love our moms, and how so often the roles become reversed. On the drive back to Ithaca, I played a song by Zero 7 that makes me think of Mom. Oh, dawn broke Heavy rains made it hard to load Is it time for the road? I don't know, don't know Father has gone So let's go hold your baby's head And I won't let go Of your hand , child of mine (Child of mine) When it's time to let go Then we'll be up in...

I thought I already posted my farewell-to-September note. And my The Last Good Day of the Year post (Gods I love that song). Today it's 60 degrees, feeling like September 26, not November 26. Thank god for global warming. The last 24 hours have been pretty damned amazing: new perspective, new moon, awesome acupuncture this morning (she needled a point at the center of my chest that did wonders), sunshine, Indian takeaway lunch (I splurged), and a walk with my beloved Spaz Kitteh (we go for walks when weather permits - no leash, just the two of us along our little route by the gully). Thanks to you lovely readers for jazzing up my mojo, breathing life into my sails, and reminding me to refill my keg with water .

To celebrate the James Bond movie marathon on SyFy this Thanksgiving and Black Friday (so apropos, don't you think?): a song from Sneaker Pimps. Name that sample before you click here . P.S. The video sucks. Just listen to the song in all its mid-90s trip-hoppy-ness. And while we're at it: