Silence In Symphony

In the nightfall and the break of dawn.
The rhythmic staccato of blood against matter.
I listen for the dance of a silent ghost.
I wonder at the mystery in empty footsteps.
Deception: Silence is golden.
The symphony plays on in tarnished three-quarter time.

~ 2001 Jann ~


I am truly out of touch.

This fact is becoming more and more apparent with each day.

I do not have a MP3 player installed on my computer nor have I ever visited Napster.

I do not own a wireless, hand held PDA Palm Pilot Handspring type computing communication device.

I do not have the latest versions of ICQ, AIM or a free 800 number.

I do not play Bejewelled, Riven, Quake, Diablo or The Sims. Truthfully, I have never even seen one of these games.

I do not use Blogger, Grey Matter, Pitas, etc. ... and truly have no clue how they work.

I did not know that the Blue Man Group was an actual percussion ensemble; I thought that they were a Pentium Processor ad gimmick.

However, I have no regrets. I do not feel left behind, nor do I feel that life is passing me by.

I have a wonderful, richly diverse CD collection that, when played, fills my home ... and spirit ... with remarkable music.

I have a cell phone and pager that I can turn off. It is my life, my time ... and carrying the latest stock quotes, email and sports scores in my handbag simply does not interest me.

I enjoy writing my appointments in a leather book on smooth paper with a wonderfully crafted pen: it allows me to own my time.

My original version of ICQ works and has never caused me a moment's grief: "if it ain't broke .... "

However, I will admit ... I seldom use ICQ.

I cannot envision myself playing a computer game for relaxation. I prefer to watch the sun set slowly behind the White Tank Mountains painting the desert with Nature's magical palette. I choose the olfactory dance of water on dusty sidewalks. I like the feel of night falling against my cheek.

Admittedly, I can be found yelling the answers back to Alex Trabek whilst watching "Jeopardy" ... [always in the form of a question, of course].

HTML has worked for me so far. It is basic. It is simple. Like me.

Yes, I am indeed truly out of touch.


A word to the wise ...

... do not watch the Food Network when you are hungry.

I found myself making a mental inventory [from my bed] of the contents of my refrigerator and freezer.

There is not much to inventory when all that can be found is the requisite condiments, six containers of sports bottle water, some wilted baby spinach, soy powder, lecithin powder, and a tomato that has indeed seen better days.

The freezer holds a myriad of sports injury freezer packs and two empty ice cube trays (I normally purchase bagged ice).

My mind moves to the cupboards.

Nothing but two cans of gravy and six boxes of Swiss Miss Sugar Free Hot Chocolate Mix [*just add water*].

Considering the bounty (i.e. lack of) that lies therein, I change the channel.

Before me is the violence, prejudice, fear and ignorance found within the news stories on MSNBC.

I then began to take a mental inventory of gratitude for the simplicity and blessings in my life.

Ambling out to the kitchen to fix a cuppa Swiss Miss Sugar Free Hot Chocolate Mix, I smile in gracious thanksgiving.

My cup runneth over.


Every now and then, the clouds will clear and the skies appear to be blue ... the sun's rays, warm.

Closing life's rose-colored umbrella and opening the windows to my soul, I find that I have been lulled into false security.


Because in the wink of an eye ... a cold, forbidding storm rolls in.

The winds of life blow chilly bringing ache to the bones that hold perseverance together. The rain seeps deeply ... dampening the spirit.

I review this storm that is my life and draw my sweater tightly to my chest ... and pray for the fortitude to weather it out.



Yesterday was a birthday. An 89th birthday to be precise.

This lady may seem old by many standards, but in the scheme of things, she is young ... growing ... and does not yet reflect some of the lines of aging and time that is found in the caverns, canyons, meadows and mountains ... cities, towns and villages ... of her sisters.

Arizona came into statehood 89 years ago on Valentine's Day in 1912.

[No, I was not there to celebrate it .... *wink*]

So, in honor of Arizona's special day, here is a brief primer of some factoids about the state:

The name Arizona comes from the Spanish interpretation of "arizuma," an Aztec Indian word meaning "silver bearing." Also based on Pima Indian word "arizonac" for "little spring place."

There are 114,006 square miles within her boundaries.

In 1999, almost 5 million people lived within those boundaries.

She was the 48th state admitted into statehood.

The state motto is Ditat Deus... meaning "God Enriches".

Her state flower is the bloom found on the saguaro cactus (please note:  that is pronounced "sah-war-row").

The Arizona state bird is the wren that lives in cactus.

The leafless Palo Verde is the state tree.

There are only 15 counties in Arizona.

She is home to 23 tribes of Native Americans.

She is called "The Grand Canyon State" for obvious reasons.

The 13 rays of red and gold on the top half of the state flag represent both the 13 original colonies of the Union, and the rays of the Western setting sun.

Red and gold were also the colors carried by Coronado's expedition in search of the Seven Cities of Cibola in 1540. The bottom half of the flag has the same Liberty blue as the United States flag. Since Arizona was the largest producer of copper in the nation, a copper star was placed in the flag's center. It was adopted in 1917:



Because he inspires me:

"I'll be your dream   I'll be your wish
  I'll be your fantasy

  I'll be your hope   I'll be your love
  Be everything that you need

  I'll love you more with every breath
  Truly, madly, deeply do ..."

[excerpt - truly madly deeply - Savage Garden]
Darren Hayes & Daniel Jones 1997 EMI Blackwood Music Inc.

Happy Valentine's Day.


I live in the desert.

Wait, I actually live IN the city. The city is IN the desert. But I digress...

Whilst many people perceive the desert with visions of the sandy Sahara, let me assure you that the majority of the southwestern deserts of Arizona and New Mexico are dirt.

Hard packed, dry dirt. Dirt that is stirred into clouds of brown haze by a soft breeze, simply walking a trail, or the ever increasing ATVs that run wild on the open desert.

Clouds of brown dust that leave a blanket of dirt as their perpetual, never-ending calling card.

Dirt, that when inhaled, can cause valley fever.

More dirt than you can shake a dust mop at!

I am tidy. I organize. I like order and neatness.

Friends walk into my home and ask if I intend to "perform surgery" therein ... because my interiors are white on white (typically southwestern) and appear to be clean.

I confess: the appearance of my home is a stratagem.

I figure if it appears to be ever-so-spotless, then I can fool myself into believing that I do not need to move the sofa to vacuum. Or that I do not need to see what is ON TOP of the ceiling fan blades.

That which I cannot see will not hurt me?

Wrong you goofy blonde, way wrong.

I have spent the last three days chasing the hidden dirt with the vacuum, dust rags and wall mops. And that is only in a couple of rooms!

Many would call it spring cleaning.

I call it herding up the dust coyotes.




In December, I mentioned that a dear and cherished friend was diagnosed with a brain tumor.

I have followed his situation with great concern.

Last night, this sweet friend and I spoke for hours ... laughing, commiserating, analyzing and just sharing the magic that is friendship.

His prognosis? EXCELLENT.   [*dancing the happy dance*]

The tumor was successfully removed. Some gamma knife surgery will be necessary in the future to obliterate the microscopic cells of tumor left around a vein, but the result is truly remarkable.

Medical science is amazing. Human strength is amazing.

My friend never ceases to amaze me.

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