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Today I fell asleep on the beach, a feat of trust I'd deemed impossible, regardless of my brother's advice to just let go. Making new friends in this odd and unusual situation I first found myself in 4 years ago hasn't been easy, just by its very nature. Finally the social aspects of my life are catching up to the wealth of joy and stability that have filled the cracks of my formerly broken life. Nowadays it seems unnecessary to blindly chase happiness, you can't find it that way anyway. I've been surrounded by the sights and sounds of the ocean since Monday, even into the night by leaving the balcony door open as I watch TV and drink ungodly amounts of water. Somehow I wasn't strategic enough in my sunblock-applying stragedy and have ended up with a nasty burn on my shoulders. The clear, aqua water, the sugar-white, stick-to-everything, powdery sand, the mild heat and sweet Gulf breezes, the just-out-of-the-water-fresh seafood, and the company of a friend are making this week a thing of real relaxing pleasure. Tomorrow morning I'll get back in the ocean and play, but the 8 dolphins I saw today forced me out of the water immediately, because dorsal fins, curved or not, take the fun out of everything! Paradise awaits!
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Beach Bound

A cool new friend from NAMI invited me to hang out with her in Florida this week, so tomorrow I'm going to the beach! I've had some concern over body-image issues, of course, but have decided to forgo the worrying and just enjoy this awesome opportunity to have fun. Deciding on a book to bring has been difficult, so my beach bag will be heavy with several- it is a woman's prerogative to change her mind! I'm looking forward to walking on the beach, looking for sea shells and sea creatures, listening to the water speak, and taking pictures. Maybe I'll come home with a tan! An exciting adventure awaits, and I'm ready for it, ready to experience the vastness of the ocean, and its effect on my body and soul.

Also: Notice the change in the layout of my little blog? I like it, it's fresh!

R.I.P. Polaroid Instant Cameras, 1947 - 2008

Bye bye Polaroid instant cameras, you're just not instant enough by today's standards. These days "instant" is common, demanded, and universal. Sure, the picture was magically developed and delivered in an instant, but the quality was pretty pitiful. Today's consumers expect immediate gratification with uncompromising, perfect results on a consistent basis. Poor old Polaroid just couldn't compete, so he's been retired to the land where all our used-up, expired, and forgotten junk resides: ebay. There are still plenty of Polaroid Land Camera lovers out there, collectors and fans whose nostalgia draws them to search out the plastic boxes which spit out a blurry, oddly-colored image best hastened on its way to development by the waving back and forth method, or better yet, the warming-it-up-in-the-arm-pit method, preferred by men. Edwin Land founded the Polaroid Corporation in 1937, and in 1947 released the first Polaroid Instant Camera, or Polaroid Land Camera, onto the market. The idea came from a question posed to him by his daughter, Jennifer, "why can't I see them now?" Why not, indeed, I guess he thought, and the cameras were wildly successful until quite recently, when digital cameras became the norm, and expectations of consumers changed. Polaroid doesn't produce the cameras anymore, and in February they ceased production of all instant film, shutting down 3 factories and laying off 450 workers. In this decade, there has been a 25% drop in chemical film sales of all kinds, and the market for this antiquated equipment will continue to shrink. When I was a kid, I thought people who had Polaroids were rich. My mom had one of those ancient cameras whose flash was a glass cube that attached itself onto the top of the black box, and made a sad little sound when it blew. Truth is, the majority of pictures taken by my parents back then never even made it to the developers, and we never saw the pics of cousin whomever's birthday. Years later Mom would find old rolls of film, not one single clue whose images lived in the plastic capsule, and get them developed just for fun. We'd laugh and remember what a great time it was, and remark on how things have changed since that time that was special enough to use an entire roll of film to capture, and swear we'd never let another roll of film wait like that again to be appreciated. We as a society have forgotten how to wait, and even as I write this I glance at my Blackberry looking out for the flashing red light that tells me I have an email waiting in my inbox, realizing just how impatient I have become.

Only blue will do

Since before I was capable of rational thought, I have connected the sensations of dissolving ice and the taste of flavored sugar water on my tongue with summer. It is this rite of passage that signals the beginning of other joyous behaviors belonging solely to summer like going barefoot, enjoying the camaraderie of strangers linked together by the collective suffering brought on by the moist MS heat, maniacal mosquito swatting and slapping, hummingbird watching, porch sitting, yard strolling, flower bed picking, pruning, and admiring, picture taking, and childhood revisiting. Living half my life in southeast Louisiana and the other half in north, central and south Mississippi has taught me that snowballs are not a phenomenon to take for granted. North Mississippi was a barren land where the crushed ice, deliciously sweet, unimaginably-enormous-flavor-optioned treat was concerned, and I complained about its absence quite frequently. It seems the further south you go, the more snowball stands pop up, serving summer's most appreciative participants, children. Most snowball stands are a mom and pop deal; tiny shacks colorfully painted with a gargantuan menu of flavors in front, with room inside for only one or two adults to grind the ice and force it into a white styrofoam cup, shape it to a point with a cone, douse it liberally with neon-colored, flavored sugar water, and if you'd like, condensed milk. Blue bubble gum snowballs with cream (condensed milk) are my life's most delicious and decadent treat, as well as the most coveted. As accessible as its ingredients are, snowballs are impossible to duplicate at home, forcing one to snatch up the opportunity to eat one when you come across one of those happy little stands that seem to be slowly disappearing. Its genius lies in its simplicity, its sweetness conjuring memories of warm days, waiting in line and deciding what flavor to choose, whether or not to be adventurous and pick a new flavor like cake batter or stick with what you know, blue bubblegum that tastes like nothing else on earth, just pure bliss, summertime perfection.

FYI: This picture is of me and my Aunt KK, (with whom I used to stay in the summer and help peel squash and eat the plums off her trees) in Tylertown, MS, at Little Alaska snowball stand. They have a new item on the menu this summer: frozen pickle juice! Apparently it's really popular with the kids!

Family

In case you didn't know, there are different rules for living in the country than in the city. An impromptu family reunion took place here at Mamaw's house this evening, distant relatives appearing almost at once, and from seemingly nowhere! Eight in all, and for 2 hours, a couple of which I'd never even met. A little cousin with a frog on her shirt and a tiara on her head taught me the proper way to cut an orange; another informed me he'd been here earlier and seen us napping in our chairs, and jokingly asked if I'd caught any flies in my mouth! There's a casual feel, a laid back atmosphere with far less distance between people than I'm used to, but it lends itself to a cozy sort of feeling that's kinda nice. The lack of planning ruined the opportunity for the best aspect of a reunion: the FOOD!
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Over the river and through the woods....

Tomorrow is my first Spring trip to my grandparents' house! Every year I anticipate the ease of Spring and Summer country living, in a place so secluded that in order to find it you have to know where you're going, warm and breezy on the front porch, bursts of color everywhere you look. My camera will be my companion on my walks around the yard, surprising the butterflies and spiders and frogs that are usually ignored by us cumbersome humans that bound through their secrets spaces, always with our own agendas that seldom include them. Baggins lives for his trips to Mamaw and Papaw's house, especially our walks in the field down to where the old pond used to sit, before Papaw decided he should fill it, years ago. Mom and I will stroll down the narrow roads, admiring the wildflowers now showing their faces anywhere dirt will hold them, and look for the spots where blackberries will grow in the quickly-approaching summer. I think I've pretty much figured out how to post from my Blackberry (the seedless, digital kind,) so I hope to be making a few short posts along the way. Here's a picture of me and my Mamaw Hildy, the sweetest lady in the world, at my Aunt BB's house at Christmas. She and I have some catching up to do, and we're going to do it on the porch!

"American Idol" does "Ave Maria,"

Schubert's ode to the Virgin Mary, "Ave Maria," regardless of its religious implications, is one of the world's most beautiful songs. When sung by a woman with an angelic voice, it stirs emotion in my guts, even though I haven't a clue what they're saying. Celine Dion's version brings tears to my eyes; it's perfect, flawless. Kelly Clarkson sang this masterpiece for the Pope just the other day, and I'm sharing it with you because it is so moving and powerful, I think you deserve to experience it! "Ave Maria" seems otherworldly when I close my eyes, there's a serenity that I can't explain.