Wish Me Luck, Part Deux

I know, I know...the lottery is nothing more than a tax on the foolish, which is why I haven't bought a ticket in years and years. People who are better than me at math say that I am 250 times more likely to get hit by an asteroid than I am to hit the jackpot. Still, come on, half-a-billion dollars? What can I say--I guess I've found the number that piques my interest.

Besides, buying a ticket for the Mega Millions jackpot isn't the dumbest thing I've ever done. In fact, it's not even the dumbest thing I've done today. Originally, I'd planned to post a litany of the really, truly, exquisitely dumb things I have done, but on reflection, losing tonight's drawing should provide sufficient humility for one day. I'll tell you about the other dumb things later. Unless I get hit by an asteroid tonight.

Like this post? Stumble or Tweet it! (please) and follow 50+ on Facebook and Twitter 






Wish Me Luck!

I SWEAR 

that when I decided to name this blog "50+ and on the Run," 

this is not what I had in mind.

Oh, well-- I'll be going now.

Like this post? Stumble or Tweet (please!) and follow 50+ on Facebook and Twitter 






Sunday Haiku XXII

Even as atoms

Coalesce to make us "us"

Pieces fall away

More Haiku

Like this post? Stumble or Tweet it! (please) and follow 50+ on Facebook and Twitter








My 7 Super Shots

A couple of days ago, Kate Convissor of the wonderful blog, WanderingNotLost, surprised me by nominating 50+ and on the Run to participate in HostelBookers' 7 Super Shots. My first reaction was, "Who, me? Really?" followed by "Well, this is pretty cool," and finally "Boy, I really have to do a much better job organizing my travel photos." I will get around to that one of these days, but for now, here are my entries:

A photo that takes my breath away

Amazing, amazing Antarctica.

A photo that makes me laugh

This gentleman was spending a Sunday afternoon sitting on his floating house and looking across the muddy water of Iquitos, Peru. The bucket on his head? No idea. We called him "the mayor."

A photo that makes me dream

Dawn on the south island of New Zealand. It was nearly impossible to choose which photo of New Zealand makes me dream; they all make me dream...of returning there soon, and staying for a long time.

A photo that makes me think

Nuclear plant on the outskirts of Xi'an, China. Makes me think about how cavalierly we disrespect the planet. Compare this photo to the one of NZ above.

A photo that makes my mouth water

I'm not planning on committing any capital crimes, but if I do, and am given a chance to choose my last meal, this is it: the burrata with heirloom tomatoes, balsamic vinegar, olive oil and pesto from Dough Pizzeria in San Antonio, Texas. Oh, my.

A photo that tells a story

In the gardens of Hangzhou, China. 

The photo of which I'm most proud

Just another day on the side of the road just outside of Queenstown, New Zealand. Although this photo is probably technically better, I'm cheating and adding an extra bonus photo (the director's cut?) of penguins roosting in a snow squall near Port Lockroy, Antarctica, because I just couldn't bear to leave it out. Forgive me, Hostelbookers.

Now I get to nominate bloggers to participate; if you don't already know their work, you should!
No Vacation Required
The Bucket List Journey
Unbrave Girl
The Travel Chica
Migrationology

Here’s the link; and here’s the rules:

Choose 7 of your own photos, one for each of the following categories:

• A photo that…takes my breath away
• A photo that…makes me laugh or smile
• A photo that…makes me dream
• A photo that…makes me think
• A photo that…makes my mouth water
• A photo that…tells a story
• A photo that…I am most proud of (aka my worthy of National Geographic shot)

2. Write a short description for each image.
3. Write somewhere in your blog post: ‘I am taking part in HostelBookers 7 Super Shots‘.4. Tell us you have participated and tweet the hashtag #7SuperShots
5. Nominate 5 other bloggers by including a link to their blog in your post.

We will be retweeting and sharing the best posts from participating bloggers

Like this post? Stumble or Tweet it (please!) and follow 50+ on Facebook and Twitter.








Sunday Haiku XXI

Hurrying, the earth

 Garbs herself in springy green,

Kniving frost and drought 

More Haiku

Like this post? Stumble or Tweet it (please!) and follow 50+ on Facebook and Twitter








A Sweeping Change

                                  O.K. -- some background:  

                                  1. My house is for sale.

                                  2. I have two spectacular live oaks in my backyard, shading my deck.

                                  3. Live oaks shed their leaves in March.

                                  4. It is March.

Q.E.D.: I am sweeping. I am using the present progressive tense to indicate that this is now an ongoing activity. Maybe one day I will be able to say "I have swept," or "I was sweeping," but not until several hundred thousand more leaves commit botanical hari-kiri on my lovely, newly power-washed deck.


But it's o.k. The first day the house was on the market, I vigorously and enthusiastically swept every leaf off the porch, evenly littering the yard below. In fact, I went out there a couple of times that day.  As a reward, I got a very impressive blister on my thumb.

Undaunted, I was no less enthusiastic the next morning. The sky was blue, the sun was shining, the birds were chirping (really, I'm not making this up), and there was a light, but steady breeze. Ah, yes. The breeze.


Because of the blister, I wielded the broom considerably more gently -- and because of the wind, I adopted very goal-indifferent approach.  I pretended I was a monk raking a sand garden, peacefully creating a pattern that would last only as long as nature allowed. For the monks, the raking serves as a moving meditation. The result, though beautiful, is not as important as the raking itself.

Well, I'm pretty terrible at seated meditation, and had no reason to suspect that I would be any better at the moving variety, but to my surprise, I was. Rhythmically and repetitively (and gingerly, honoring my thumb), I worked my way across the deck in patterns, grinning as more leaves fell with every stroke. Because I had absolutely no conviction that I would "finish," finishing ceased to matter, and I just enjoyed the activity.




A few hours later, I became a little restless and found myself pulled towards the broom, not thinking "Rats, I have to sweep," but rather " Yay, I get to sweep." Really.


Well, perhaps I'm nuts. But I'm going to try to stay nuts, at least until April.


More on bad meditation: Oh, I Can Do This!

Like this post? Stumble or Tweet it (please!) and follow 50+ on Facebook and Twitter 






Sunday Haiku XX

Damp with rain and tears,

Blue flowers and blue hours --

Shrouded from the sun

More Haiku

Like this post? Stumble or Tweet it! (please) and follow 50+ on Facebook and Twitter