Tag Archives: Gratitude

Dumb Deer Diary

Around 7:20 AM, going 65 mph, heading west on Arizona Highway 90, with the sun – having just finished its dawn-makin’ business in New Mexico – rising in my rear-view, I saw an impressively large male deer leap across the pavement before me.
And stop.
In my lane.

There were no other cars, though traffic was quickly rounding the bend behind me. And while I had my headlights on, he didn’t appear mesmerized by them. He came to a halt  (this breathtaking buck; this absolutely magnificent creature, with his enormous antlers, his soulful eyes) about ten feet from the hood of my car (my car…. the one with the awesome brakes) and he slowly turned his massive head my way. Nonchalant. If I spoke deer, I bet he would’ve said,”‘sup.”

My hurtling black death machine was purely an afterthought to him. And when I try to understand the reason behind his sudden, dangerous pit stop, I try to imagine his thought-process…and it sounds like this (…and he’s very fancy): “Alas, weary am I from all this graceful jaunting, to and fro, in forest-like peace and tranquility. Hark! Tis civilization, yonder! Me thinks I shall rest these weary antlers… but where?  Hmmm, I see a fast approaching contraption of certain death. What luck! I shall stop right in front of it. Splendid!”

My oh my, he was GORGEOUS. His gaze was the gaze of the ages.
And he was very stupid. And he is very, very lucky to be alive.

As traffic caught up to us, I held my right hand high over the passenger seat; Jedi-forcing the oncoming traffic to slow their mornin’ roll – which they did. And after that beautiful buck had properly assessed me, with all the interest his fairy-tail ass could muster, he bounded the remaining lanes of the highway, toward safety.

Actually, he headed toward a suburban development. So, probably not safety. But that’s okay because, as we all know, you don’t have to be smart when you’re that pretty.

I drove away from the encounter awe-struck; nearly convinced of it’s spiritual import.  A random AM eye-lock with the glorious divine. But the rest of the day proved far less enigmatic. In fact, the overwhelming theme of the office that day ( and I’m working again….but we’ll talk about that later) seemed to be that of rampant stupidity. Not by way of my co-workers, but rather their overall report of the active corporate world at large. Shocker, I know.

So was my handsome buck a celestial totem, or just the universe presenting me with its official Ambassador of Dumbass; warning me of the day ahead. Or, of course, he could just have been a deer, doing what deer have done since the dawn of motorized vehicles. But, my goodness, he was a joy to behold!
And magical. And I’m going with that.

Gary Larson's The Far Side®Gary Larson’s The Far Side®


Just Like Heaven

Home. He’s home. Back from a year spent in South Korea. One long damned year wherein I thought I’d write more, but every time I went to put words to keystrokes those words ran whiney. Some would say I had the right to whine and some would say I’ve had it amazingly easy, as far as military families go, and I should shut my boo-hooey trap. And it doesn’t matter what people say, I just didn’t feel like whining. Wining, as always, another story all together.

Maybe I’ll revisit those days in a later blog, but for now I’m quite content living these new days. After three weeks vacation he’s gone back to normal work-a-day duties. But even those are slight, until he gets into the rhythm of things. Which means he leaves late and comes home early. Which also means he sucks me into a crazy vortex of laziness. “Come cuddle, and eat delicious snacks, and watch more episodes of The Big Bang Theory,” he beckons. “If the kids are at school/napping we can totally have sexy grown up time, then eat more, and watch more TV….and sleep…sweet sleep. You know you want this.”

And I do. I do want this. So much. I can taste the snacks now.
It’s heaven.

Autumn is a State of Mind

It’s a beautiful September day in southeastern Arizona. In these parts they refer to fall as a second spring. But honestly, autumn here is like a perfect summer day anywhere else. It’s 80 degrees. The sky is Crayola baby blue, spotted with floating clumps of cotton balls. It often looks like a child’s delightful art project up there.

I seized the weather with a walk. Two miles of pushing a happy toddler in a comfy stroller through paths lined in blooming greens. The monsoon rains give us a three month reprieve from desert-living. We won’t feel a real chill until Christmas. And even then, it’s not exactly the Artic north around here. When the temp drops below 70 we all run, en masse, for our sweaters.

But autumn has always been my favorite season. Once upon a time, in another life, I associated it with Technicolor burgundy and blood orange. Leaves crackling beneath my cute knee-high boots, deep inhalations of crispy-clean earth, hot-n-sweet beverages, hearty broths, resurrected fireplaces, soft, color-splashing scarves, Happy Halloweens, moody grey heavens above and rain – Seattle rain. And when I moved to Arizona, all those many moons ago, how I mourned the loss of it.

Other than the occasional harvest wreath, hanging on someone’s front door, or the jack-o-lanterns that can only sit out the day of October 31st before melting into mush, there’s very little, traditional sign of the season. Trees retain most their leaves until December; then those leaves make some sort of suicide pact and all plummet at once to their leafy death. Green one day, gone the next – and it’s straight from “second spring” to winter we go. This took some getting used to.

But I’ve come to love a new brand of fall. Blue skies and sunshine in fitted tees and capris. Outdoor activities, warm breezes, lizards, toads and their babies. Thanksgiving dinner on the patio and pumpkin spice lattes -ICED! Because it appears autumn, like so much else, is just a state of mind.