Whilst vacuuming this morning I came across a sliver of plastic from the artificial Christmas tree. How they propagate long after being disassembled in my house is a mystery, but one that often brings a smile. It’s just fun to find something unexpected when you’re doing a mundane task.

And then – Voila! My lost ruby earring shows up on the floor of the laundry room. Why I even knelt down to examine the inside of the dryer was a mystery, but how the earring showed up, not so much. I’m sure it was roped in with the bedding I was washing. Still – another little “glimmer.”

It’s important to find those tiny glints of joy as we navigate the day, or the “razzle dazzle” as my MIL used to say. The deer bedding down in the backyard last night. The bat I rattled from his rest on the road when I biked past him. Just unexpected and delightful incidents.

Looking forward to the next glimmer!

When your eldest little squirt wants to nap on the floor you find the best place possible. What a wonderful use for your baby grand – if you happen to have one for your grand baby. The possibilities are endless when desperation kicks in and a nap is warranted so that you might have a free moment.

Grandparenting 101.

Not often does this comic strip hit the mark – in my esteemed position of critic – but today it did.

When I first ambled outside to retrieve my outmoded form of communication, I inhaled the earthy aroma of Autumn, saw the ethereal filaments cast by spider spinnerets on their aerial highways, and gloried in the return of fall as I sneezed extensively. These morning are fulfilling to the soul – peaceful with gently wafting air, a stray bird basking in the sun, that same sun highlighting the dirt-speckled windows from past rains, Indian Paintbrush completely withered – all harbingers of the next season.

Of course I’ll soon close the doors and windows, turn on the air conditioning, and take that allergy pill. I don’t mind paying the price for this beauty as I view the tree already turning orange outside my kitchen door. This is my favorite season.

Yes, there was a torrential rain and hail storm. The temperature dropped. The weekend plan was for camping – and by golly – camp we did!

Instead of packing up and hauling the kitchen sink to a remote location, the six-person tent was set up in the garage and the RV backed up next to it in order to replicate the experience of being “away from home.” It was perfect. Bathrooms inside, dinner from the local Asian restaurant, outdoor gas fire pit, and a playground complete with a DVD player and some old Disney movies. My husband and son rode around the driveway on their motorcycles creating awe-moments for the granddaughters. The four-year old joined in on her training wheels and everyone was satisfied that we had camped quite properly.

Who knows? It could be our new routine since camping in our fair state now requires ticketed times and lottery winnings. And the price is right.

…and so did we! Advice to those with a “handicap” sticker…drive a motorhome to the venue at Red Rocks.

While three different parking attendants gave us three different directions, we did end up in the lowest level where we were supposed to park in the first place. That placard threw them off and they were trying to get us closer than half a mile away. However – we had a shuttle pick us up and drop us at the entrance, as well as return us to the lower lot when we left. All we had to do was call the number of the cheerful driver. It was superb – and rainless. We returned home with dry clothing and no need for the poncho purchase.

If you don’t have a one of those special permits just invite me to go with you. I can get my hands on one.

Turkey lurkey you’re a jerky.

Not quite sure where or when that ditty was presented in childhood? I was reminded of it four times in the past two days in the ‘hood. My sis and I have seen the flock in our travels. This morning we had two little girls with us to enjoy the view!

Then the hawk was spied out the front window, dining on some small bird, mouse, or rabbit. The magpies waited for the dregs. It was entertainment to rival any NatGeo show.

Now we’re preparing for a round with The Weather Channel as we gear up for a Red Rock’s event. I guess it makes sense to see Teddy Swims in the rain?

Mine are in order! The little insect that dropped onto my cheek in the middle of the night proved that to be true.

It was sometime after two in the morning, the drop was felt, I swatted swiftly and turned on the light. There he was, little black dot on the floor. I figured he wouldn’t bother me again so I didn’t bother to dispose of him either. It was just so amazing to me that I could feel and know it was a bug in the middle of sleep. I guess anything on your face is a warning?

Anyway, I’m vacuuming and hoping he’s long gone or has met his demise in a corner. It was another wake-up call to clean! Or to reread one of my favorite Whitman poems, which I know I have posted before. Now I interpret it with my face in mind, that vacant vast surrounding, with my nose as the promontory. Oh, how a grand slice of writing can gladden the heart.

A Noiseless Patient Spider

A noiseless patient spider,
I mark’d where on a little promontory it stood isolated,
Mark’d how to explore the vacant vast surrounding,
It launch’d forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself,
Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them.

And you O my soul where you stand,
Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space,
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to connect them,
Till the bridge you will need be form’d, till the ductile anchor hold,
Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my soul.

Walt Whitman

You can tell someone’s age by the their pedestrian gait.

Interestingly, the age group most able to cross the street swiftly is young, while those who high-tail it across the road are hobbled with age. Sometimes I am a slow amble with my arms imitating someone in high speed motion, a skill for the elderly. Whatever the circumstance, at least I respect the driver who stopped and wave to them.

Just a little quirky thought for the day.

Yes, it’s that time of the year again. New seasons are upon us and so are the reruns. I’m talking about television.

Whenever the movie, “Brian’s Song,” is aired I watch it. I bawl through the entire second half without fail. My tear ducts are duly cleansed. I even purchased the sheet music to learn the score for piano when I was in high school. It’s that wonderful of a movie based on the true story of Gale Sayers and Brian Piccolo of the Chicago Bears. Of course I read the movie-based book, “I Am Third,” probably before seeing the movie. Remember when we used to do that?

Not everything can stand the test of time, but this one does. If you need a refresher stop by and I’ll entertain you with a rendition of the title score.

Here we go again – new week – new opportunities? Yes! We march forward! And wash the windows again to avoid viewing the dark matter, even if it doesn’t really matter. But Auntie Matter is visiting in a week, so we are tidying up a bit!