arizona

Here Comes the Rain Again

Blog Posted by kitt at 22:15 on 17 August 2020

Some time around 5:30 this evening, I started feeling uncomfortable (which isn't quite the right word, but neither is melancholy, depressed, blue, ennui-full, yes I made up that word). No idea why (hello 2020), but when the lighting outside started changing, my mood lifted. I went outside to feel the gusts of wind.

The Start

Daily Photo Written with a loving hand by kitt some time around 21:43 on 17 August 2020

Of the couple hundred photos I took by pressing and holding the iphone button when the lights started, this is the second best of the monsoon that came through tonight.

Read more about The Start

Visiting mom

Blog Posted by kitt at 23:49 on 22 September 2007

A few weeks ago, the owners of the quilting store Mom was working at, decided to close the store. Mom was blue about the store's closing, asking, "Why do all the jobs I like not work out?" The store was very convenient for her: it was close to home for her, had hours she liked, coworkers were good people.

I had no answer for her.

A week later, my brother lost his job, too. He worked in the housing industry. With the downturn in the housing market, his job became uncertain for a while, then, poof gone.

My response was the response it always should have been, but hasn't been lately with all the work I've been doing: I flew out to Arizona to spend time with both of them. I flew out on Thursday evening, flying back on Sunday morning. Mom made the rule before I flew out of "No computer."

Yeah, that didn't last long. It lasted just long enough for Mom to say, "I don't know. Kitt, look it up on the web."

The weekend was nice and relaxing. I still had work to do, and did some of it. No as much as I would have liked, but, well, I think that will always be the case. B came up and the three of us tooled around chatting, eating and, well, getting massages.

Pup returns an orange.

Hula! Hula! Hooooolah!

Self portrait.

Mom and food.

Me and the same food.

Mom warned me that we were going to a quilting event, where I should expect to spend about five hours amongst quilters. Me? I can sit for a large number of hours happily content with my computer: give me an electrical outlet and I'm just fine.

I expected Mom to spend time quilting. The group would spend time working on group projects as well as individual projects. The evenings are focused work time on quilts. So, We brought her quilting basket full of projects. We brought in her sewing machine. We brought in our contribution to the potluck dinner.

Mom didn't quilt.

She spent the whole time organizing the various quilts the group was making for different projects. She talked with people, sure, the time is a good social time, too. It's interesting to watch Mom in her element, to see her take charge, laugh, work, clearly enjoy the time and the tasks. It's nice.

Though, I think her sewing machine was lonely.

Hula!

Blog Instead of being asleep at 09:26 on 21 September 2007, kitt created this:

I met Mom's new dog today. Everyone, meet Hula. She's an English pointer.

My gifts suck!

Blog Instead of being asleep at 13:39 on 19 June 2007, kitt created this:

Mom turned old this week. Honestly, she keeps turning old every year, only to redefine what old is and push it back a year. When I look at her, spend time with her, I know what's in store for me in 20, 25, 30 years. I know what I'm going to look like, how I'll walk, how wise I'll be, and, though it's normal to want to be young forever, seeing her makes the years seem almost easy.

I'm loathe these days to purchase gifts for most people, my parents in particular. I know Mom is in a declutter, reduce, simplify phase, much as I am, much as most people are. Overcoming my packrat mentality is not an easy task, so I'm hesitant to contribute to others' piles of stuff.

Since I missed purchasing Mom a Mother's Day, we talked and agreed we would head off to some designer garden store near her when I visited (this was last week), and get her a gift she truly wanted. There were a few pots she'd been eyeing as of late, and giving someone something she wants but wouldn't purchase for herself is giving the perfect gift.

We never made it to the store.

Two or three times in conversation in the first few days I was visiting, Mom or Eric mentioned the vacuum cleaner. In particular, how old and ineffective it had become. They had been looking at new vacuums, but neither was willing to buy a new one, at full retail or sale price. Bunch o' cheapskates (I say in the most loving of terms).

So, breaking from the don't-buy-household-cleaning-items-as-gifts rule, I listened to what Mom and Eric said, found the vacuum cleaner she wanted, and pulled the trigger. Instead of a Mother's Day present, it's now a Mother's Day, birthday, wedding and Christmas present all in one.

Because I'm as cheap as they are.

Mom used it after I had left, and graciously sent me a note after she used it. Her note?

"It sucks!"

Gift of a 7 year old

Blog Yeah, kitt finished writing this at 18:28 on 14 June 2007

Arizona is hot. It's just hot. Hot, hot, hot.

Which is why everyone is inside, or in the pool. Like us!

Eric put up a very Frank Gehry-like structure over the pool to keep the pool in the shade so that we could be in the pool during the heat of the day. Previously, we couldn't swim from around 10 until around 3 because the pool was in FULL. BRIGHT. SUN. One step out there during that time, and we'd all melt.

With the Frank shade structure up, we could be out at any time of day. The downside is that the pool stayed in the shade, too, and never really warmed up. Cold pools and me? Not so much.

Today, however, I decided that yes, I could get in the water and play with the boys. So I did. Usually, Sam and Jackson just splash around, or jump into the pool seeing who could make the biggest cannonball splash. I figured I'd splash around with them, fetch the water toys that end up at the bottom of the deep end, cool off and get out.

At one point, I was fixing the band on the goggles I was going to wear. The band was pulled tight enough to fit on a 4 year old's head, which meant it was just about perfect for my puny head, but not quite. As I stood on the pool steps adjusting the band, Sam swam up to me, pulled off his googles, and said, "Here, use these. They're bigger."

Now, the goggles I had in my hand were actually the same size and style as the ones he was offering me. The band was already a little looser, but they were the same style.

I accepted them, said thanks, and watched with suspicion as he went over to the other side of the pool, plucked up another pair of goggles, put them on and went off to swim again.

Having just spent the last two days with Sam, watching as he cheated his way to some allowed victory or bitter defeat, I couldn't help but wonder, how am i getting the bum end of this deal?

I never did figure out how. The goggles were good, they fit well. I'm not sure when I became cynical of the generosity of a seven year old.