Suzanne Elizabeth Anderson's Blog, page 34

SNOW DAY - April 25th 2011

We woke to another beautiful snow covered morning.





This time, I decided to take pictures along Upper Bear Creek.





There's Mount Evans in the distance.





And this beautiful red barn in the valley.





Funny thing is by the time we'd driven the five miles into town to have lunch by the lake the snow was completely gone. Which is par for course with snow at this time of year.

Happy Easter!

Our Easter vigil service on Saturday night begins in darkness. All the lights in the sanctuary are turned off and we sit quietly, expectantly, waiting. The darkness represents the world before the Light of the world.



The priest comes in carrying the Easter candle and stops at the top of the aisle and chants, "Christ our Light" and we respond "Thanks be to God".



When the priest reaches the altar he stops and one person lights the candle they hold from the Easter candle. They turn and light the candle of their neighbor. This sharing of the fire goes one by one throughout the sanctuary until every candle is burning and the room is filled with a beautiful soft light.



This represents the Light that Christ brought to the world through His life, death, and resurrection.



It is a challenge to believe that one man could make such a difference. In the end, it becomes a choice to accept that indeed the world is a better place because of His presence, better afterward than before. Better because He taught us the power of love and forgiveness, better than than anyone before or since.



Wishing you the blessings of renewal and rebirth during this Easter season and throughout the year.





We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ, the only Son of God, eternally begotten of the Father, God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, one in being with the Father.





Through Him all things were made. For us and our salvation He came down from heaven: by the power of the Holy Spirit, He was born of the Virgin Mary , and became man.





For our sake He was crucified under Pontius Pilate; He suffered, died, and was buried. On the third day He rose again in fulfillment of the scriptures: He ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father.





He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead, and his kingdom will have no end.





Amen.

Henry and the Easter Cupcakes

This week we made Easter cupcakes for Mom to take to the Senior Center where she volunteers on Thursdays. On Wednesday night we baked them and let them cool overnight.



Henry is always very interested in helping Mummy in the kitchen.





On Thursday morning we decorated the lemon cupcakes with cream cheese frosting and coconut and placed a speckled egg in the center of each 'nest'.



Aren't they pretty? Now, please count the number of cupcakes in the farthest row on the right...



Did you count four cupcakes?





Now, count the number of cupcakes in the row on the right again. Did you count three? 

What happened? Let's ask Henry....







Henry do you know what happened to that missing cupcake?

The 15 Minute Challenge

Last month I was inspired by a post I read on Keetha's new blog for writers You are Talented and Original. (By the way, I just love that title.) But back to the subject at hand...on Keetha's new blog she'd linked to an article about a writer who challenged herself to write just 15 minutes each day for a month and at the end to record what happened.



After I read the article I left a comment on Keetha's post that I'd been so inspired that I wanted to try the same challenge. In my case I wanted to use the challenge as a means to jumpstart my journal again, which had like everything else in my life, fallen to the wayside with the move and unpacking that seemed to begin in December and roll into the end of February.



On the first day of Lent, instead of giving something up (I'd already given up smoking in February, I figured that was enough) I decided to pick something up, in my case, a pen. As we now move into Easter week and the final days of Lent I want to report on my progress, what I've discovered, and how I will use this technique going forward.



While it seems a simple thing to write every day for ONLY 15 minutes, the actual commitment is much more difficult. I experimented with writing in the morning, in the evening, carrying my journal around with me in my purse, or putting it on my nightstand. What I found is that once I picked up the pen completing the fifteen minutes of writing wasn't difficult, but picking up the pen was. In other words, even though my journal shouldn't be the least bit intimidating because I'm the only one who will ever read those words, more often than not I made excuses not to begin writing. I would reason that I had nothing to say, or too much to say and not enough time. In the end, days would sometimes go by without writing a word. Over the course of the forty days of Lent I averaged a journal entry every three days, although there were a couple times when I went a week without writing at all.



Although the original impetus of this challenge was to get back to journalling, my larger goal was, in a roundabout way, to find the means to begin my next project: editing A Map of Heaven, a book that has been 'resting' for several years.  I'd hoped to apply the fifteen minute challenge to the editing process. I did dig out two of the numerous drafts of MAP and found one draft on my hard drive that oddly seems to be completely different than the two earlier printed drafts.



What I've learned from the 15 minute challenge is that I want to continue it. Even though I was successful in writing every day, this experience did reawaken how much I enjoy journalling and want make it part of my daily life, as well as the internal stumbling stones that keep me from achieving that goal. I've also discovered that I want to use this experience to learn about the limits of my self-discipline when it comes to novel writing and how I can improve upon my consistency. Specifically, I want to apply consistency to editing my novel and realize that much can be accomplished in just fifteen minutes a day if applied every day.



Best of all, this 15 minute challenge could be applied in a myriad of ways. For instance, since quitting smoking I've gained ten pounds on top of an already chunky monkey frame. What if I decided to go for a brisk walk each day for 15 minutes? Or how about those great books that we all pledge to read? Fifteen minutes a day would eventually knock down even Charles Dickens' Great Expectations or Tolstoy's War and Peace.



So I want to challenge you: what can you accomplish in just 15 minutes a day, every day? Try it for a month and let me know how it goes. I'd love to compare results.

SNOW DAY - April 14th 2011

Last year around this time I started posting pictures whenever it snowed because I wanted to capture the last snow of the year, which I documented on May 18th.



Here's my nuthatch birdhouse....which is my feeble attempt at enticing the little nuthatches to nest here instead of attempting to dig a hole in the side of my house.





So yesterday, April 14th, we got a nice little overnight snowfall which was very welcome because our mild winter meant that fire season started way too early this year and we were desperately in need of moisture. So even though it was largely gone by noon on our sunny side of the valley, it was gratefully welcomed.







A lovely picture looking up the hill behind our house.





And out over the deck and across the valley.





Here's Henry doing what he loves best when it snows....laying in it and then eating it.









Here's Coco doing what she loves best...trying to figure out how to keep her feet dry.





And here they are in a rare together shot!

Henry Goes to the Dog Park

On Saturday, on a whim, we jumped in the car and took Coco and Henry to the Bark Park, which is very near our house.



By the way, I love this picture. Here's Coco sitting in her dog bed in the back seat and Henry leaning over from his place in the way back...his head is larger than Coco's entire body. And yet, Coco does not dein to acknowledge his presence.





Here's a view once you arrive in the dog park, it's a wonderful piece of wooded, fenced land with spectacular views. There is a second fenced field next door for playing catch and hanging out.





Mom and Coco hung out on a bench near the entrance and talked with the other doggie moms and dads that arrived that morning.





Henry and I took off on a hike through the woods.





Henry took to the new adventure like a duck to water...even posing majestically as if contemplating the next path to take as he forges a trail through the great western wilderness.





Of course, there was ultimately a fence that thwarted his journey to the Pacific, but there's always next week.

Welcome Home Henry!

Henry is a 4 year old Newfoundland who had been rescued by Big Dogs, Huge Paws, a great rescue organization doing amazing work to save dogs. Henry was rescued from a shelter in South Dakota and was being fostered by a loving family in Nebraska. Last month, I  put in an application to adopt a large breed and then waited until we found just the right one...



This weekend we drove to North Platte, Nebraska where we met Henry. He'd already been in two different cars when he arrived at the Holiday Inn parking lot where we met. And yet, when he stepped out of the car, it was as if we'd known each other for ages and after a walk around the parking lot to stretch his legs, and a refreshing drink of water, he graciously got into the back of our car for the ride back to Colorado.







Given Henry's size, Coco had to ride up front with Mom, my co-pilot on this trip. Luckily Mom's always up for a road trip. And so is Coco.





Once we got home Henry was able to enjoy his first night in his new bed. To give you an idea of Henry's size...that is a twin-size mattress from a fold out bed that I had in the closet, placed at the foot of a king size bed...and Henry takes up the whole thing. I covered the mattress with a foam pad, a mattress pad, flannel sheet and teddy bear pillow to make it extra cozy because Henry has been  recovering from surgery to fix a broken ankle.



Henry doesn't snore, but he makes this adorable low grumbling noise, like a dragon, when he turns over or stretches in his sleep.





This morning we had a few inches of snow on the deck. And I quickly discovered just how much Henry enjoys the snow...





Exploring the deck...





Guarding the bird feeder from squirrels...





Watching the deer cross through the field beyond the back fence...





Eating snow, which makes his drool freeze...





In other words, Henry's making himself right at home.  Amazingly, he acts like he's been with us for ages, he's sleeping at my feet as I write this, which leads me to believe he came from a wonderful home that for one reason or another was no longer able to care for him. We feel very lucky to have him join ours.

Do We Ever Really Grow Up?

I've been unpacking the last of the boxes that were in storage in Florida and today I came across one that was filled with pictures taken ten years ago. The pictures actually made me laugh as I looked at the ones of myself posed in front of the Duomo in Florence, Italy, looking so earnest and trying so hard to appear fashionable because I'd recently lost fifty pounds and I thought the new skinny me in my new wardrobe would be my key to happiness. And it was in some respects, I had a great time. Yet it was still the same old me inside, with all of the same old insecurities.



And as I looked at those pictures, I wondered: do we ever grow up? Do we ever really change over the years?



I guess the reason this is on my mind is because I just turned 49, which is one of those momentous numbers. It means that for the next 364 days, I will be obsessing about turning 50 and leaving my forties behind.



When I was younger I always looked to the future and thought of the things I would accomplish and how different I would be at some future date. Like when I 'grew up'.



As I looked at those pictures of me, then considered the row of journals that now sit on my bookshelf and span the course of twenty five years of my life, and as I unpacked that beautiful white lingerie that I bought fifteen years ago to wear on the wedding night that never happened, I realized that really, despite all the milestones that come with age, we don't actually change the core of who we are. And I laughed because of this striving seems like a cruel joke and an incredible self-deception to imagine that we can ever be other than who we are.



I've realized this most when I run into old friends on Facebook and realize that no matter how I've changed, these old friends still see me as the goofy girl I was back in university.



When I lived in New York and worked on Wall Street, I imagined the pinnacle of my life would be when I turned 45 and I pictured myself riding to the office each morning in the back of a limousine, wearing a full-length mink. Today, that would be my picture of hell. Well, maybe I'd still take the full-length fur in all of its inappropriate glory, but I'd wear with with a pair of jeans and my favorite black cowboy boots, that I bought in the men's department at the thrift store.



I never became that woman I thought I wanted to be. I did something completely different. Yet I'm still so much the same girl I was twenty years ago when I first dreamed that dream. I still have the dream of creating something special, and of living life on my own terms. But what's interesting is that the years haven't changed me, I haven't evolved into something different than I was. I'm still Suzanne, with all my ridiculous insecurities, my fear that no one likes me, or that I'll always fall short no matter how hard I try, that I am neither talented nor feminine enough. And then I wonder what is the point of the journey if we can never escape who we are, no matter how much we accomplish or how far we travel from where we first began?



And then….



Just when I think I've found a great truth, I instead discover something that turns my conclusion on its head.



Recently my mother has begun to cook, something she never exhibited the patience or interest in for the first eighty-three years of her life. And then this past weekend she picked up my old battered copy of Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking and decided she was going to try a few recipes. And she, who has been willingly displaced from her home like Naomi from the Biblical book of Ruth, who chugs along on a heart that operates at fifty percent of its capacity, has created a new life for herself here and found a grace and contentment that she never had before. While I toss and turn at night, wracked with insomnia over my worries about the friends who didn't come to dinner, the snow that won't fall, the book that I will rewrite again though it's already ten years in the making, she has found peace in who she is. So while I still doubt that I will ever grow up or change who I am, I hope that I will eventually know that contentment.

HAPPY 49TH SUZANNE!

Happy birthday to me...





happy birthday to me....





happy birthday, dear Suzanne...





happy birthday, to me...





If  you're in the neighborhood....





stop by for a piece of cake and a glass of wine!

Snow Day!

I've been lamenting what a dry, warm winter we've had this year.





So you can imagine just how happy I was when I woke up this morning and found that we had snow on the ground!





Coco and I ran outside with my camera and took a slew of pictures.





Because, as  you can see from this view of our driveway, this snow was not going to stick around.





Still, while it lasted it was incredibly beautiful.





Everything looks better when it's covered in snow.





Especially the mountains.





Though by midmorning it was beginning to melt. And by afternoon it was as if it had never been.





I'm just thankful I was able to capture it before it was gone.