Saturday, January 30, 2010

Morning breaks


"The breezes at dawn have secrets to tell you.
Don't go back to sleep."

~ Rumi

Image by Davidlind

Thursday, January 28, 2010

Commencing Project Salt and Pepper, and other delights



I wanted to do it 2 years ago, but my hair stylist convinced me I had to be psychologically ready.


She directed me to an article in O Magazine about the process. And after reading it, I realized Wendy was right: I needed to get used to the idea.


But tonight, when she was just about to mix the color, I stood up in my goofy vinyl cape, walked over to her, and said, "Wendy, just what would we do if I decided to let the white come in."


Some highlights and some lowlights, she explained.


I considered the alternative. In my mind's eye, I pictured that funky row of white, about half an inch high, that so starkly contrasts with the fake brown "natural" color I see when it's time to get my "roots done."


And I knew I couldn't stomach it. Not any more. I'd finally had enough.


Besides incurring the crazy cost of hiding the white beneath a wash of my old natural color, then adding dramatic swaths of "blonde," the act of coloring my hair suddenly felt very very silly. 


Who did I think I was kidding? 


The urge to let the authentic me* emerge could not be restrained.


Maybe it's because I like snow so much. The cool, sparkly, mesmerizing whiteness of it. Or maybe it's because using "hair mascara" (yep, you really can buy it!) to tide me over till I could get my roots done just seems ridiculous. I'm not proud of being so vain about my hair for so many years. But for whatever reason, something shifted in my psyche tonight. And I like it.


So I am most grateful to you bloggers who have encouraged me in the past to go for it.


Letting my patch of white emerge feels downright liberating. It's like the crown chakra has opened up and something's aglow atop my noggin. It's way cooler than I imagined.


Mr. B restrained his reaction. I haven't a clue what he thinks. But that's par for course. When I do something "dramatic" with my hair, he usually doesn't weigh in with an opinion till a few weeks have passed. I think he's wise. I stopped talking to him for a week once when he tried to make light of my efforts to zip up a pair of pants I'd outgrown. I'm sure wise men have learned to broach the subject of their loved one's sensitive appearance issues gingerly. 


And, besides, he's agreed to me getting an Alaskan Husky puppy, which pretty much buys him a ticket to paradise as far as I'm concerned.


Speaking of puppies, here are a couple shots of Ginsberg, who is just a tad over 3 weeks old now. Shannon Miller, author of The Daily Dog, a fine writer/blogger/photographer/musher who midwifed the delivery of 8 precious pups, took these shots, and she tells me Ginsberg is still a mama's boy. Ah, music to my ears.



Snuggling with Sophie, Shannon's daughter, who is also a musher





And check out those baby blues!





And cuddling with one of his littermates**




* I've had a blast coloring my hair of the years, and each rendition was very much me. But the me right now needs to let the white come in!


** Shannon is still looking for homes for 3 of these beautiful pups. To help her entice any potential takers, allow me to present the following videos that Shannon produced. Enjoy!


 The good little eaters



Puppy pile-up cuteness:



Now then, how can you resist?


Image 1 by stellina
Images 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 © Copyright 2010. Shannon Miller

Sunday, January 24, 2010

Friday, January 22, 2010

My pack groweth

Pater familias

Mr. B

. . . . .
Mama's girls

PreciousGrrrrlChild, the lone human


The 4-legged variety

(Thing 1, aka Charlotte)



(Thing 2, aka Cora)
. . . . .
Mama's boys

EarthDoctorSon



RockStarSon


The feline

Ulysses, aka Ulee's Gold - who is balking at the term "pack" - he'd prefer "pride"


And introducing . . . 

Ginsberg!



Yep, my dream comes true come February 20!

Mar 5, 2009 post: "I want an Alaskan Husky puppy"
Feb 28, 2009 post: "What I'd rather be doing"


Life is good.

I want an Alaskan Husky puppy


If I had one, I swear I would do all the housebreaking, run with it, train it to pull a sled, love it to pieces, move to the country so we could play on snowy trails, add a few other Alaskan Husky buddies, and be very very happy.
By the way, the Iditarod starts THIS Saturday.


Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Altogether now: "Awwwww"




Credit for this shot belongs to Shannon Miller,
an outstanding writer, photographer, musher,
and author of the The Daily Dog blog.
One of her sweetheart dogs, Gwennie,
gave birth to 8 puppies just over 2 weeks ago.
Shannon, who has a master's degree in English,
has named each of the pups after a favorite writer.


The little lad above is Kerouac.


Can you hear him?
He's already producing contented little howls.


Oy, I am so in love.


Image © Copyright 2010. Shannon Miller

Monday, January 18, 2010

Following the elusive, the mystery, the silence



I make my way through the forest.





Around me




tall white pines and bare oaks.





Slender green needle sprays





and curls of old leaves.





The only sounds are
me breathing hard,
a caw, caw, caw here and there,
the crunch of my steps
as I walk through deep snow.
I am following a deer trail.
Sweet, narrow paths
occasionally dotted
and splashed.
My gait is slow
and noisy.





I am following where
they have led me.
I stop.





The trail opens into
an oval,
a shallow depression
in the snowy forest floor.
They have slept here,
bent a twig, flattened leaves.





I sink to my knees,
hands together,
head bowed.
Teach me your ways,
brother and sister.
I want to know your
mystery, your elusiveness,
how to be silent.
Teach me your ways.





I trail one ungloved
finger along a smooth
tableau of white.
Cold, heat, wet sting.





Angles of sun
bend light along
the grainy whiteness.
Tiny prisms of color.
I don't know how long
I have been here,
but my breathing is easier
and I turn.





I want to know
what is like to sleep
on the forest floor
so I lay down and look up.
High above, leafless branches
sway and touch and gently tap
to each other.





What was white is
turning softly to pink.





Time to sit by the fire
and sip tea.
I must go back.





Soon the deer will emerge.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

Time to retreat for a couple days . . .


To find the universal elements enough;
To find the air and the water exhilarating;
To be refreshed by a morning walk or an evening saunter;
To be thrilled by the stars at night;
To be elated over a bird's nest or a wildflower in spring--
these are the some of the rewards of the simple life
~ John Burroughs


Heading up north for a bit of simplicity.
Blessings . . .

Thursday, January 7, 2010




Midnight.
Wickedly cold.
The dogs need their constitutional before we retire for the night.
We do not have a fenced yard.
Therefore, I must:

  1. Turn off the computer
  2. Walk to the coat closet
  3. Put on my down coat
  4. Lace my stocking feet into my boots
  5. Locate two bags
  6. Put on glove liners
  7. Put on mittens
  8. Wrap scarf around my neck and face
  9. Harness Thing One
  10. Harness Thing Two
  11. Open the door
  12. Greet the arctic air
  13. Wait till the girls make a deposit
  14. Pick up said deposits
  15. Walk to trash can and deposit said deposits
  16. Try not to slip on icy sidewalk and get another concussion
  17. Come back inside
  18. Unharness Thing One
  19. Unharness Thing Two
  20. Remove outerwear
  21. Clean up
  22. Go to bed where Mr. B has been for the past 2 hours
  23. Move Thing One and Thing Two off my side of the bed so I can crawl in
  24. Repeat steps 2 through 21 in 7 hours and catch the bus to work.
What was I thinking when I said I wanted to retire in the Yukon?

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Isn't it romantic?



Image by samuelviai

Glowing fire,
Scented candles,
Cozy comforters,
Whispers,
Below-zero outside, warm hearts inside,
And a sweet song set to the tempo of a waltz
Sigh . . .





Saturday, January 2, 2010



"When before the beauty of a sunset or mountain,
you pause and exclaim,
'Ah,'
you are participating
in divinity."


~ Joseph Campbell


Image: by ephien

Friday, January 1, 2010

A new year begins






"Cultivate astonishment.
And then write about it."


~Mary Oliver


In answer to the question,
"How does one become a poet?"
Heard at a 2006 reading in Minneapolis.




. . . . . . . 




And may you also cultivate tranquility, within and around, during the coming year.


Blessings,
Kathleen







Image 1 by Baloulumix
Image 2 by Kathleen Kimball-Baker

LinkWithin

Blog Widget by LinkWithin