Month: November 2010

The Holiday Season

I’m finding that time flies when you’re engaged. It seems like just yesterday that I was waiting impatiently for the engagement ring to be finished so that I could pop the question to Lindsey. Now, it has been nearly two months since and we’re heading into our first holiday season together. Together-together.

Not only is fun to share the excitement of the onset of winter, the construction of Christmas charm, and the last-minute shopping, but we’re also blessed to have loving families nearby with whom we both enjoy spending time. Rarely does a week pass that we don’t play cards or have dinner with one or the other. That’s pretty cool, to me, and what I hoped for when we started dating.

A few of the things I’m most looking forward to during the next couple months:

  • Getting to wear my Christmas pants again (Link to photo),
  • Sharing my “I’m Thankful For” napkin tradition with Lindsey over Thanksgiving,
  • Learning about her traditions and
  • Making new traditions of our own for years to come!

Lindsey, we’ve got to find you a matching skirt!

The Mighty Shake

When he stands, it is as a mighty lion stands – a deliberate struggle of a beast battered by carnivorous dreams. Restless and cold, he shifts through the monochrome darkness of night. With each step his paw lands with the thrust of an uncalibrated pile driver trying to beat down the house in which he lives. His good master does not wake; not so for the neighbor girl tumbling beyond the pale green drywall.

He reaches his mirage and begins his inarticulate laps from the cool stainless steel bowl. Water splashes on the wall and the floor and his crusty black nose. When the struggle is over, strands of sinewy slobber drape his mug. The “mighty shake” is coming. The walls recoil in terror. The picture frames fall flat. The clean – the spotless – the untouched – they all post their guard – ready and waiting. His great brute box head turns violently and sets in motion a furious chain reaction of jowl to drool to mid-air acrobats of gelatin-like mouth droppings seeking out the clean – the spotless – the untouched.

Written from 11:05 pm to 11:25 pm on Wednesday, November 10, 2010 at home in Traverse City, Michigan.

Death and Taxes

The saying used to go, “Nothing is certain but death and taxes.” That is not the case this year. As 2010 nears an end, there is still little indication as to what will happen with the Federal estate tax. In 2009, the exemption was $3.5M and anything over that was taxed at 45%. In 2010, the Federal estate tax was repealed. (Good year, if any, to die if you have a sizable estate!) In 2011, the exemption will revert to $1M and anything over that will be taxed at 55% percent. Get used to saying, “Nothing is certain by death and (insert snarky comment re: Federal government decision making here).”

Note: The Future of the Federal Estate Tax blog is an easy way to keep up with the latest news on the topic.

OneWord: Fangs, Stage, Elixir, Feud, Kit

OneWord.com gives you a random word and 60 seconds to write. Following are my submissions for the past week.

Fangs: The husky’s fangs were exposed as it panted cool grey breath into the mid-fall air. They looked sharp and hungry, as if she were in her element and ready to hunt. Then she sat next to me, and put her paw up to be scratched.

Stage: She set the stage with her wonderful grin. I saw it from the back of the natural theater in which we were set free to roam, discover and explore the magnificent wilderness.

Elixir: The elixir of life – the body – fully woven, yet muted beneath the dark suppression of my chores, responsibilities, and commitments – struggles to burn through the layers and succeed a short success. Let me be.

Feud: We rarely feud, and when we do, we feud a little then make some breakfast or go for a walk or laugh it off. There’s never much to our feuds and, so far as I can tall, they’ve never grown into fights.

Kit: The tool kit in the corner of my work shed is old. The blue-coated metal is rusting and creaks when the lid is opened. The wooden-handled tools are cracked and dry and, the metal there, rusty, too.

The Invitation

Oriah – Mountain Dreamer, Native American Elder, May 1994:

It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with JOY, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, or to remember the limitations of being a human.

It doesn’t interest me if the story you’re telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul.

I want to know if you can be faithful and therefore be trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty even when it is not pretty every day, and if you can source your life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon “YES!”

It doesn’t interest me in knowing where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done for the children.

It doesn’t interest me who you are, how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me where or what or whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else fades away. I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.