For Your Consideration

I love living in New England this time of year. The leaves, the smells, the crisp autumn air is what it is all about. Walks have become more enjoyable for both Sonya and me. If we get out in the daylight there are so many busy squirrels for her to chase, and I get to bring my camera to take a few pictures. But if we go out after dinner and it is dark, things are not always so pleasant.
I have found the people of New England to be some of the most generous people I have ever met. Every charity, every fund raiser, every time you need anything, you just have to ask. Yes, the people of New England are giving and kind, but I would not say they are considerate.
When we go walking after dark I wear a reflective vest and Sonya wears a reflective leash. Some of the streets have sidewalks and some do not. None have a speed limit over 35mph, and yet people fly down the street past us. Some move over, even as far as the wrong side of the street, but still they do not slow down. Moving over is helpful, but the speed still causes stuff to spit up at us, or blows the wind and rain at us.
Walking with Sonya is not the only time I’ve witnessed this kind of inconsideration. I see it even more when I am among the drivers. People are in such a hurry, and it seems that where they are going is much more important than yielding the right of way, or taking turns, or using signals. These things are not just the law, they are good common sense.
Drivers are not the only culprits, I notice that people do not hold doors open, or even notice that someone is behind them when they are entering a building. Walking down the aisle in a store people rarely allow you to pass unless you make a lot of noise. They just do not seem to notice that any one else is there, or would like to browse the same things that they are.
My mother always reminded me to be observant of my surroundings. She usually said this as she was driving her country kids around the big city, letting us know how easy it was to become lost. These days I find it is so easy to become lost in oneself. In your schedule, your to-do list, your messages and your crazy, busy, stressed-out life. So much to concentrate on that you don’t have time to notice the changing of the seasons, or the woman and her dog walking in the twilight.

Requiem for a Taurus '99

Ten years ago I bought my first new car. 103,191 miles later I have traded it in for a used truck. The new car was not the first Taurus I had ever owned, but the first I chose, financed, paid-off, repaired, and de-furred, until finally the cost of the latest repairs out-weighed the trade-in value. I had known this moment was coming. The car didn’t ride as nicely as it once had, and braked a little harder. But still it was comfortable and reliable and those are qualities that are hard to beat.
Among the 103,191 miles were more trips to Buffalo than I can count, a few trips to Virginia, and of course around New England. There were numerous flat tires, and one tow. There were cassettes, a CD-player adapter and finally an MP3 fm-receiver blaring through the speakers. There were moves from one apartment to another to a house and finally to my own home. There was fur from Sonya, some of which I left with the car.
In all that time there were never any questions, never any doubts. I always knew wherever I needed to go I could rely on my car to get me there. I only need get behind the wheel and turn the key.
Funny, I feel like Samson after his haircut. Without my reliable vehicle will I be less reliable too? I find that it is a quality I value in me as much as I valued it in my car.
I lost my first car in an icy accident, and swore I would not get emotionally attached to a car again. After all they are things, not pets or people. I did not name my cars, or baby them in any way. When it came time to give up the first two Tauruses it was a no brainer. But this time was harder. I bought my car because I was comfortable driving it and because I knew it would be reliable. And I was right. Those reasons were also why it was so hard to give it up. But this week I knew that I had to, and so I summoned up the courage to do so.
Last night I cleaned out my car, but I left in a few things I knew I would need for the trade. There was the bell from Letchworth State park that has been hanging from the mirror since my first car. There was the St. Christopher medallion that I got not long after I crashed my first car. And there was the Mickey Mouse antenna ornament that Nate bought me for Christmas after some kids stole the first one. I made sure to put them all where they belong on my green Escape.
Today when I left work for the dealership to trade in my car for my truck (SUV, I know) the car was covered in orange and yellow leaves from the maple trees that line the library parking lot. As I drove my car for the last time the leaves fluttered off and away. It was simple and it made me smile.
I worried when I pulled into the driveway with the truck that Sonya would not know it was me. But she did. She will learn to recognize the sound of my new engine just as she did the old one, and it will make her happy to know that I am home. And I will too.

You Could Smile or Wave

The other day the library I work at received a donation of books for watercolor painting techniques. All were slim volumes with lots of pictures and paintings, enough to inspire someone to fill a gallery. I’m not sure if the previous owner moved onto another art form or gave up on watercolors altogether. Either way I’m sure someone else will snatch them up. I’ve always been drawn to watercolors. I love the blur and dreaminess that oils and acrylics just don’t have. But I’ve never attempted to paint with them. For that matter painting is not my outlet of expression.
Over the years I have tried various outlets for my creativity. I’m sure you have too. Everyone needs an outlet to express their creativity, and as you grow and become the person you are the method must grow too. How many teenagers write poetry? How many second graders dabble in pasta, glue and glitter? Some of us find what others consider mainstream art, be it writing, drawing, refinishing furniture, sculpting or music. But how many consider all the many ways we truly express ourselves.
Start in the morning with the color you choose to wear; does it put a smile on your face? How about the car you drive? Is it speedy, sporty, or simply functional? Each of these things says something about you and allows you to express a part of yourself. Simple choices we take for granted come from the very heart of us.
My favorite color, especially in electronics, is red. At least right now it is. There was a time when almost my whole wardrobe was blue. Another, when everything I decorated with was in the yellow family.
Your friends also allow you to express yourself. I have recently surrounded myself with people who make me laugh, and I love it. Laughter is the best expression of all! But there are times when I need more serious folk to sit and meditate or pontificate with. All of that brings out more and more of my own true self.
In my house I have a craft and sewing room full of stuff. Over the years my creativity has found outlets in fabric and floss, in colored pencils and in furniture refinishing. My current outlet is photography, at least until this year ends and my Photo-A-Day project is complete.
Sonya, like all dogs, doesn’t need any outlet to express herself. Her moods are simple: she can wag her tail, move her ears forward or back, jump up, bark, and even dance. Oh wait, I guess that makes her an artist too.