Straight Shooting

Here is why I am not a good blogger right now.  Every time I have a few minutes to spatter something out, I run into things that make it take much too long.  As in, I just tried to copy and paste an essay I wrote on an airplane in a word document into this format and I want to throw my computer at the wall because it turns into characters and minions on the actual blog post.  I am not a troubleshooter.  I'm a straight shooter.  

Now I'm mad.  So here.  Here's my post.  It is not the originally intended one but it's something.  

A picture of the pretty sky - look pretty sky!  I might try to go back to troubleshoot the minions now.  Maybe.  If you're lucky.  

Haystack for the Heart Picture

My cowboy boots pushed the sand down with a squish, my one hand held my camera and the other was being held, the sun warmed my face as we made our way to the water edge while my eyes tried to take it all in.  

A lighthouse to the right, Haystack Rock to the left, the blaring yellow light in the middle, the sound of the waves lapping in, a toddler running in his diaper into the water being chased by his barefoot dad...

Dear Bird,

Thank you for flying across at just the right time.  I appreciate you.

Sincerely,
Me

Dinner with blankets wrapped around our legs to take the chill off the evening air, a glass of white wine each, fresh seafood, and this sunset as the view.  There was a time when I would have spent most of the experience trying to capture it all through my camera lens.  There is value in creating memories that can be looked at in the future, but there is also value in snapping one quick picture and then setting the camera down to create memories in the heart instead.  I remember watching a movie when I was a teenager.  I don't remember the movie title but I do remember this part - it has stuck with me and for some reason, it's something I think of often now.  A mom was watching her son and husband interact with each other and she said with her hand over her chest, "My heart just took a picture."  

My heart took many pictures that evening in Oregon on the coast and I will forever cherish them in the same way I cherish this orange and blue. 

Scissors It Is

No grizzly sighting today.  Maybe he has moved on to juicier pastures.  

The latest words of wisdom from Kiel on the manner were, "Ooooooooo...I bet Bear is thinking she smells like popcorn, iced lattes, and good cheese."  

Here's where I admit his musing is fairly accurate.  Add dry roasted, salted almonds and the nail would be hit on the head.  

In other news of the evening, I just finished weed-whacking around the house with a scissor.  It's because I'm a perfectionist, and when I start something it gets all the way done.  It's also because I am stubborn.  It's not because I don't know how to run a weed-whacker.  I grew up on a farm and have spent more hours with a Stihl than I have sharpening pencils.  Changing the string and mixing the gas are on my resume.  Rest assured, use an actual weed-whacker I can.  The reason I chose a scissor this round was because I potentially already broke a water pump early this morning when the sunrise looked like this - the flag blowing in the wind and the pump burning up.  

The thought of ruining two things in one day was too much for this prideful heart to manage.  I should say potentially ruining again here.   

While I was crouched down snip snipping, I thought to myself, as vehicles drove by on the gravel road, please let this look like I'm simply picking weeds out of the landscaping rocks, not that I'm using a scissors to cut the grass around the edging.  That's a reputation one might never live down.  

The verdict is in and a scissors works.  The job is done.  I can rest easy.  

Here's the precise pretty sunset picture I took the other night while the neighbors were shooting in the air and yelling at the grizzly bear.  Aren't you glad that tall(ish) grass around the landscaping edging is now cut?  I know I sure am.    

Sunrise and sunset, you've now been covered for both.