In The Morning Light

Standing in dim the morning light, no lamps or overhead fixtures were turned on, I took a step back to get a full view of what I had just created. It was beautiful. My heart started to beat just a tiny bit faster at the idea that it would soon become a reality. French Country had met Southern Charm and it was a dream about to unfold into something real and tangible. Smiling I went over the compilation of fabrics and accents, my fingers lightly touching each and every item.

Reaching out to touch the fabrics again, my hand glided over the soft nap of a deep, rich, red chenille. The raised pattern of fleur d'lis looked as rich and opulent as an antique, silk velvet but at a fraction of the cost and a hundred times the durabillity. After all, great design isn't merely beautiful fabrics and shapely pieces of furniture, it's about utility and endurance as well. The red chenille was going to be stunning as the cover for the new family room sofa. Laying next to the chenille was a fabulous french country style fabric. The background was a soft blue, the same shade of blue as a cloudless day in early spring and it was scattered with fat, luscious cabbage roses in the same shade of red as the etched chenille . The roses were scattered over the soft blue colour and mingled together with smaller, butter-yellow roses, pale lilac hyacinths, pretty pink tulips and multiple shades of green for the leaves of each blossom adorning the soft cotton. The chaise it was intended for would be overstuffed and plush, trimmed in a pale blue and yellow fringe.It's large back pillow entertained a multi coloured stripe over the same butter-coloured yellow as the roses on the blue. The stripes were thin and delicate but of different widths in red, green, blue, lilac, orange and pink. The perfect compliment to the french floral, the same stripe on the pillow would cover a generous Bergere chair and the cushions were going to be trimmed with the red chenille of the sofa. It had all come together so perfectly. There were 5 more fabrics folded in and splaying themselves over the table. They sat atop a handwoven oriental rug boasting of red, green, yellow, black and dashes of sky blue. Fabrics for drapes, ottomans, benches, pillows all synched together as if they had been woven as mates from the beginning.

I loved mornings like this, working in the peaceful, uninterrupted hours before the doors would open and the clients spilled in to break the quietude of the showroom. Weeks of working on this design had finally culminated into this day. Holly was a new client and she would be in at 10 am to see what I had created for her home. Every idea, every nuance, every colour and need had been relayed to me by her. This was my craft, my talent and it was exciting to see it all come together. I came in at 7am that morning to pull together all of the items needed for Holly's presentation. The presentation was nearly ready, all I had to do was complete the pricing for each item. Most of it was done but there were a couple of last minute pretties I had thrown in to help accessorize the finished room.

Looking down at my watch the time was 9am. She would be here in an hour. As I turned to walk towards my desk I heard the door open. The door had a small electric bell on it that would 'ding' whenever it opened. Who was here so early? It had to be a colleague because I knew I had locked the door behind me when I had arrived. When I looked towards the door my colleague came running in, she was shouting "Oh my god!! We're under attack! We're under attack!" My mind was turning her words over in my head, what was she talking about?

She ran toward me yelling to me as she came closer, "Turn on the T.V.!"
 I darted past the furniture and turned the television on. Just as the image came to the screen I saw a plane flying directly into a tall building. There was a cloud of black smoke already in the air but where did it come from? That's when I saw the building next to it was in flames. It was the World Trade Center in New York. My knees gave out, my stomach turned and I started to cry. I couldn't move away from what I was seeing. The people were leaping from the burning buildings in their attempt to escape the flames. On the streets people were running, trying to find their way out of the chaos and danger. Nothing seemed real to me, but I knew it was all very real.

How much time had passed I don't even know. The bad news kept coming, two other planes were being used as weapons, one of the rogue planes had hit The Pentagon. The Pentagon, how can this be? Oh my god, more people, my friends, our Government. Who could be behind this? As the news continued to unfold all I could think was, woe to those who dare come here, on our soil and murder Americans. Whomever had spawned this evil, cowardly attack was going to die. I knew this with complete certainty and I cried.

September 11, 2001 changed Americans lives, perspectives and values and September 11, 2001 would change the rest of the world too. Forever changed with no road back to where we were.

Everything Possible

Sitting here in the fading light of the day, I was moved by a voice in my head that pushed me back to this place. It's quiet in my living room. It's quiet everyday here. Occasionally the sweet meowing of the kittehs pull me out of my own thoughts and I turn my focus to Mishie and Brisco. They are both so sweet and if it's possible for a cat to 'love' a human these two definitely love me. They bring a smile to my face  many times throughout the day, every day.

When the day is coming to an end and the light is disappearing over the horizon, it's such a peaceful, quiet time. I'm not sure why but I'm compelled to do so but when I see the setting sun I grab my camera and try to capture the day's end whenever possible. There's serenity, beauty, joy, hope, sadness and possibility in each and every one of those sunsets. Capturing that in a photograph, well....I doubt that I possess that talent but I try anyway. It's not just sunsets, it's sunrise too. Both of those fleeting moments of the day offer an ending and a beginning. What you do with either is entirely up to you. How you view them, it's entirely up to you. I see them both as a promise of what can be.  There's so much we allow to slip past us and we never blink an eye. Why is that?



This evening, in the fading light I saw everything possible  ....now, what to do with that.....

Resting on My Laurels

A dear friend sent me the title of this post in a text in April. April 28th to be exact and when I read the words on my phone screen the wheels started turning. At the time, I didn't do anything with them and almost forgot about them. Tonight I was reading another text from a friend and she was asking me about an interview I had gone to for a new job. The interview went well but to be perfectly honest, the job isn't right for me.

Yes, you can say it.... "In this economy? Why isn't the job 'right' Di?" based on how difficult it is to find a job one might wonder why I'm not thrilled to find this opportunity and grab it with both of my greedy little hands (I Know, my hands aren't exactly little...rather large actually). To tell you the truth, I'm not even sure I'm doing the right thing by not pursuing this job offer with a little more vigor. The economy is in a bad state and who can say I'll find a job that I am crazy about. No one can say that I will find that dream job. Thing is, what I DO know is that I also can't settle for a job that would take me in a direction that; #1 doesn't help to serve our men and women who serve this nation,  #2 doesn't have me looking forward to going to work every day and #3 doesn't allow me to use my strongest skills. All of those things are extremely important to me.

Perhaps I AM resting on my laurels.

The Great Depression

Last night I was laying in my bed, snug in the soft comfort of a mattress that has shaped itself around my body, scrunching my eyes trying to focus on things in the darkness. It wasn't as if I was interested in viewing the items I was 'focusing' on. It was more to see if I could. My vision has been perfect for most of my life. A few years ago, that changed and regardless of the fact that I have been living with this less than perfect vision for about 4 years, I still try to focus. On everything.

I suppose this depresses me a little, my inability to focus on things that were once easy to focus on without even a thought. Not even a blip on the radar screen in my brain. It simply was. While I was lying in the dark, failing at practicing my focus techniques, I also began to take a mental inventory of my life. Yes, I did a quick inventory of my 'things'. In the grand scheme of life, 'things' or material possessions are ultimately meaningless. So why is it then I am having such an excruciating heartache over whether or not to sell my red sofa? The logical part of me knows that I don't need it, I could do better by getting a dining table in it's place. But my emotional side, takes one look at that sofa and it's impossible for me to part with it. Ridiculous. This illogical behavior, it depresses me a little.

Adding up all of my life's 'blessings' comes easy when I'm laying there in that soft hollow, in the dark listening to the sounds of everything around me. The train whistle outside, the kitten's paws padding across the floor, my other kitteh chirping as if he's a beacon for the kitten to find her way onto the bed with us. Marc breathing heavy and mumbling in his sleep. A dog barking across the courtyard in some random apartment. Even in silence, there is never silence......my thoughts bouncing around inside my head, talking to me in a soft quiet voice that's barely audible. I count all of those sounds as blessings and I count all of the wonderful people in my life as blessings and I count this slightly body shaped depression in my mattress as a blessing, I call it The Great Depression. All of these things added together overwhelm me in their greatness and beauty. I am a lucky woman and every night I'm able to lay there in that wonderful soft place and reflect on what I have rather than what I don't have.