4:25am - 5:15am

... i sat, wordless, in his kitchen, on a stool that was too tall for me to be comfortable. there weren't any lights on in the house, just filtered sunlight through the windows casting gloomy shadows and glare around the room. he was talking too fast for me to really understand what he was saying, but i'm not sure i was actually listening. i was in too much shock - seeing him again after so many years of wondering if he was "alive". he was in fact alive, and well - or so it seemed. he was married, proven by the large photo over the entry table - a recent wedding picture. the girl was pretty and he was clean shaven and dressed handsomely. he was walking around digging in drawers, trying to find something. the rambling of his voice - sounded unnatural. i sat, wordless. he finally found a small yellow envelope that was bent on all four corners. it had my name scribbled on the front - he pushed it into my hand. it was a thick envelope and too heavy for it's size. he mentioned something about reading it before i threw it away. i wasn't breathing. i cut my finger trying to open it. words ran down page after page - the top was dated january 2008. that is when he tried to find me...



dreams are amazing. they have details that relate to nothing and everything.

i needed closure. but i woke up angry.

business travel

i knew that someday

i would find something positive about traveling for work

something positive -

shiny black 2008 exterior, peppy V6, leather interior, satellite radio

an explanation of this blog title

wikipedia definition: the butterfly effect is a phrase that encapsulates the more technical notion of sensitive dependence on initial conditions in chaos theory

liz definition: the ability to touch all by the slightest thought, word, or movement. the fact that my life influences others, places, and things, even beyond my own understanding.


... i was going to get a butterfly tattoo on my right calf, just below my knee, as soon as i got my leg braces removed. it was going to represent my life - growing wings, freedom, flight out of what had been "holding me back". turns out i didn't need the outward sign to remind me that i had wings long before i started walking barefoot. i know for a fact that (deservedly or not) i have directly influenced piers and strangers throughout my life, through opportunities brought to me by both my disability and my abilities. i look at this as a gift, and treasure it (and hope i am not sounding conceited). but with this bears the burden of knowing that i have a responsibility of not affecting the world negatively...

... for my "bunny" on our first anniversary...

this was the inscription inside the front cover of a book that was yellowed, dog-eared, binding missing. the book was in a pile on the floor of my grandma's house. there are piles in every room marked either trash or keep. we were drifting from one room to the next picking items for our own homes - since grandma no longer needed any of this. she's still alive and kickin - just not alone in this big house. she goes to bingo and sunday prayer groups and comedy hour with her new friends at the retirement center. she has no need for old cookbooks - she has a huge cafeteria to fill her hunger now.


but it was heart breaking to read that inscription.


and not because i was sad to see she wasn't going to cook anymore (honestly, i never favored much of her cooking), but because there was a tenderness to the handwriting and the message itself - written from grandpa to grandma when they were first starting out their life together. it was sad because i can't say that i really have any memories of a man that would have called grandma "bunny". he died over 6 years ago - i remember him as a fairly sour man, tired of the problems of the world. he smelled of cigarette smoke and liquor. he wasn't ever nasty or mean to us - and he always gave hugs of love. but i just didn't know the man that wrote that note... and it brought a lump to my throat. i also feel a little guilty because that might be the first time i truly felt sad that he was no longer here.

my plans

Reading a blog entry posted by a man who's wife has CF

http://cfhusband.blogspot.com

I was completely moved by something he said:

"My plans are only worth anything if they are God's plans, and thankfully, His plans are always perfect."

I can only hope that my faith is this strong. To think this way, and to live this way are separate items.

lazy sunny sunday

Lazy Sundays are my favorite. Sunny lazy Sundays are even better. Like today, for example.

Woke up at 5:15a to let the dog out, because even though it is the weekend, he sticks with our weekly routine. But since it's Sunday (glorious weekend day) I got to go back to bed for THREE MORE HOURS! Rolled out of bed at 8:15ish had a breakfast fit for a queen. Left over homemade pizza (made with whole wheat dough - yumm) and a mountain dew. (Lunch was much healthier, promise.) I then strolled over to the computer to start working on my renderings... well I actually read email and caught up on friends' blogs for an hour, but then I got right to work. I have been working since then (with casual breaks to water the plants and let the dog out and fix lunch). I even emailed my boss images of what I have finished - so he can have something to review tonight or at 5am when he's in the office (prior to me rolling in at 7:30am). But I feel really accomplished, and relaxed - all at the same time. How is this possible? Clearly it is because it is Sunday - Lazy Sunny Sunday. Love it.

Totally unrelated to a the lovely Sunday that I've had - after extensive research (posting one question on a gardening board) I have discovered that we have "Dog Vomit Slime Mold" in our front flower bed (and it has now spread to our little tree out front). Google it - it does exist and we have it... the pictures look exactly like what is in our yard. Gross. But... supposedly it is totally harmless to our plants, and will go away on its own (and there is no way to get rid of it quicker). Awesome.

Also totally unrelated to the lovely Sunday or the Dog Vomit Slime Mold - my dad has decided what he wants to do for Father's Day and for his Birthday (occurs the end of this month). He wants to play golf one day and wants to go on a hot air balloon ride the other day. Both are completely reasonable and great ideas. Only problem - well there are two. First, I've never played golf (neither has dear husband) and thus we do not own clubs. Second "problem" I think I am afraid of heights. I can look out of high buildings (but I do get a little dizzy if I stare too long)... but back in college we went on a tour of the State Capitol Building in Topeka and got the opportunity to walk up the stairs above the huge glass dome, to the roof. Well I had no idea I was afraid of heights until I started climbing those little bitty rickety stairs. I got really hot and cold and queezy and dizzy. It was insane stupid. I had to sit there and miss the great sight from the roof. Who knows, maybe I just had low blood sugar (since I had skipped breakfast)? I'll be sure to eat something if we go up in the balloon... (i guess?)

Also completely unrelated to most things I just wrote - we're going to Steak'n Shake for dinner. That makes me happy. But also makes me feel old for going there during a "normal" meal time... instead of between the hours of 12 and 3am. Boo.