Next album you should by:

Every life has a sound track, this will be a significant addition to mine. Props to Jonty for turning me on to them.

As an aside, and as is fitting, my folks ordered snow in Atlanta for my birthday. The flakes only fell last night for a few minutes and they didn’t stay, but under the parking lot lamps as I watched from the warmpth of the bar at Houston’s, they couldn’t have been more perfect.

Next album you should by:

Every life has a sound track, this will be a significant addition to mine. Props to Jonty for turning me on to them.

As an aside, and as is fitting, my folks ordered snow in Atlanta for my birthday. The flakes only fell last night for a few minutes and they didn’t stay, but under the parking lot lamps as I watched from the warmpth of the bar at Houston’s, they couldn’t have been more perfect.

Next album you should by:

Every life has a sound track, this will be a significant addition to mine. Props to Jonty for turning me on to them.

As an aside, and as is fitting, my folks ordered snow in Atlanta for my birthday. The flakes only fell last night for a few minutes and they didn’t stay, but under the parking lot lamps as I watched from the warmpth of the bar at Houston’s, they couldn’t have been more perfect.

Next album you should by:

Every life has a sound track, this will be a significant addition to mine. Props to Jonty for turning me on to them.

As an aside, and as is fitting, my folks ordered snow in Atlanta for my birthday. The flakes only fell last night for a few minutes and they didn’t stay, but under the parking lot lamps as I watched from the warmpth of the bar at Houston’s, they couldn’t have been more perfect.

The year creeping to a close prompts my soul with a gentle nudge - it’s time for reflection. There is space allocated for review of growth and of regression, of challenges met head on and of adversity avoided.

It wasn’t an easy year for me.

Breaking down and letting go to make room for healing is never easy. It’s also not always successful. In my minds eye, my mantra is displayed in flashing lights - you’re never given more than you can handle. Tumors, heartbreak, financial woes, loss of loved ones and childhood dreams are all manageable. All of them. Mantra no. 2 enters the room - everything happens for a reason.

I could not muster the strength to continue if I didn’t believe those words. In pretty print on your monitor now or dancing across the synapses in my psyche they’re equally true and without flaw.

Roots that had withered have been nurtured and fed and allowed to reach deep into the earth again. With a substantial foundation, all things are possible. Reaching up-up-up for the sunshine and the heavens is done with ease, the enjoyment of the air whipping past me and through me is unthinkably satisfying.

At the close of last year I reviewed new foods in my repertoire, and this year I review a new self. Sensations, realizations and honest observations of myself and the world that swirls around me. Most of which I can’t share with you - but I can share this:

I’m whole.

This year I visited the land where my father took his first breath. I stood alone and tall on another continent, in another country, another realm. It didn’t feel brave at the time, but others tell me it was. All I know is it felt like home.

So here we are, mere days from celebrating my birth and mourning my parents. It’s an annual dance between the oil and water that slosh around in my psyche. The bliss and heartache that memories bring with them. That churn and roil and refuse to be ignored by my souls core. I’ll get up early Sunday morning to sit quietly in the cold on the bank of a lake north of here, my grieving place. I’ll laugh by myself and be genuinely and deeply thankful for the good times right along with the bad. I’ll think of the anam caras that have been with me through the journey, and those I haven’t opened to yet. I’ll let my mind trace the silhouette of time and allow the pleasure of the remembrance to course through me. I’ll set no expectations for the future - that way it’s all just a long string of lovely surprises.

All the way, the essence of my father will be along side me. I’ll hear his soothing, familiar voice cutting through his smile as as clear as I did 14 years ago when he quoted a poem and turned it into a directive : “make life one grand, sweet song!”

I woke this morning to crystalline blue skies and frost on the Jeep that I proudly scraped off in old-school style with the company ID that hung from my belt. As I drove to the market and then to work, the soothing voice on NPR informed me it was 23 degrees. I’m pretty sure she f-ed that up so I just checked weather.com, which informs me that it is, in fact, 21 degrees here in HotLanta.

My epiphany for the day is this: I like two temperatures. I like it hot hot and I like it cooooooold. I don’t really care for any temperature say, between 40 and 75. They’re just annoying. Sweater? Jacket? Tights? Flip-flips or “shoes” (c’mon! always flip-flops). Too many stupid variables. And don’t even get me started on what I can and can’t eat depending on the temprature. Stew, chilli, soup, steak vs. salad, salad, sandwich, cold food, salad.

My point being that the snap in the air felt good, damn good. It was comfortable, and cold. As it should be! It’s December! None of this jerking around with the thermostat crap, give me COLD! Give me a reason to snuggle and hibernate and have hot cocoa and think about skiing.

Almost makes me miss home.

PS It is NEVER EVER ok to clip your nails at the office.

I sailed away to China, in a little row boat to find ya, but you said you had to get your laundry clean. I soooooo stole that from an e-mail thread I had going last week (and a song from the 80’s as well, duh). I couldn’t help it. Really, I couldn’t.

I’m sure I’ve mentioned I love sleep. For those of you who don’t *actually* know me, allow me to provide you with an example.

Last night after work I had an appointment that kept me busy until about 6. Following that, I went home, made my bed, and got in it. With the exception of waking long enough for a phone call or two around 9, I slept through until this morning. Call it 13 hours, give or take. Bliss.

In the real news, I’m completely stoked on the progress we’re making towards letting me yap from 30,000 feet. Read more here. As long as my seat is equipped with a stun gun so that I can zap the over-40’s who talk too loudly on their cells, it’s all good in the hood.

NOTE: The delay in posting today was NOT my fault. Blame the kids at Blogger and an incorrect firewall configuration.