The Up Side of Winter (or I Will Stay Positive! I Will Stay Positive!)

Here’s a news flash. It’s snowing today. Seven weeks in a row of snowing. It’s just flurries for now, but the weather gods predict 2-4 inches by the end of the day. That’s on top of the 312 inches we already have on the ground. Well, I might be exaggerating a tad – we’ve probably got a good 12-15 inches depending on where you look. And it has looked that way since the middle of December.

But I am determined to stay positive. It is January, after all. Albeit a very unusual January for Colorado, but January nonetheless. And the good news is that tomorrow will be February and we are one month closer to June. Winter will be winter no matter what we do so we might as well sit back and enjoy the ride. Or at least tolerate the ride and divert our attention with other things.

And it is at times like this that I am grateful my interests are many and varied. I know how to make lemonade. *wink*

Play Nice.

The lessons continue…

Thru simple and steady observation last week I saw a reflection of someone I don't want to be and I came to an important decision. I decided right then and there to wake up every morning and make a concerted effort to be nice to my husband. That’s all – just be nice. And when I told him, “I’ve decided I’m going to be nicer to you,” the expression of relief and happiness on his face almost made me cry. Had I really been that bad?

His face said that I had.

It is surprising how when you’re together a long time, one can slide into a rhythm of short words and short tempers and “I know best and it must be done my way.” That kind of attitude with the one you’re supposed to love the most. The one who in the beginning made your heart flutter at the sound of his voice. You couldn’t sleep for thinking about his eyes. The touch of his hand made you feel weak. The day he proposed and you shared the news with his parents you drank too many margaritas and got sick. O, wait, maybe that was just me…

My point is this – why and how do we lose sight of all that compassion? Why would you ever want to be mean to that person – the one you cherish more than anyone on Earth? I’ve heard it said, “You only hurt the one you love,” but I’ll tell you what – that’s changing in my house. Kindness begets Kindness. Treat others the way you would like to be treated. All of those trite statements hold a lot of truth.

Life is too short. Remember the joy. Remember why you fell in love.

And play nice.

Angel Whispers

For four days in a row my head didn’t see my pillow before 3 am - Vegas and business and friends and Secret Service retirement parties will do that to a person. What a whirlwind. I didn’t get to shoot like I usually do and like I really wanted to, but this trip wasn’t about me. (Even though I tried to make a point by wearing my “It’s All About Me” pants at night in the suite.)

This trip, instead, was about others. Much to my surprise, it brought some remarkable new people into my life – people I can learn from and network with and just enjoy. It came complete with incredible events I will never forget. I laughed harder than I have in a long time. I shed a tear or two over encounters that touched me in ways I never expected to be touched. It was a trip full of surprises and revelation with the promise of more exciting times to come.

I think the lesson hidden in all those tornado-force days and sleepless night is this: sometimes it can be gratifying to step back, relax and just go with the flow. Let others’ needs go before yours. What you will learn is that the reward lies in the giving. Open yourself to the Universe and the Universe will open up to you.

I feel a tap, tap, tap on my shoulder. I do believe an angel is about to whisper…

Observations

It really does take all kinds. What an interesting few days. What an interesting array of personalities and viewpoints. As a writer and photographer my favorite spot is in the back of the room, observing. In that respect I do better in a crowd than one on one. I had a bit of both this week.

I prefer sitting in the back of the room.

Blessed

Blessed.

Perhaps I should refer to my life as blessed not charmed. Blessed.

It occurred to me as I was watching the shadow puppet portion of “Ka” last night (that’s my favorite part). Tears welled up and I wasn’t sure why. Thoughts drifted to my kids, my Charlie, my travels, my health, my opportunities… my blessings. Warmth rained down. Peace took a seat next to me.

And for that moment all was well with the world.

In the Air Again

Soon to be broadcasting from Sin City. Because what happens in Vegas doesn't necessarily stay in Vegas... *wink*

RE: Breathing

Re: breathing in and out.

A couple of years ago I had some rather major surgery. Everything’s fine now, but it wasn’t fun at the time. I was on self-administered morphine - that was a trip until I realized if I pushed the button too many times I’d pay for it with nausea. I was also on oxygen for the first few hours. I kept drifting off to sleep and the alarm on the oxygen machine would start buzzing because I wasn’t breathing. Charlie was by my side the whole time. He would give me a gentle nudge and whisper, “Cindi. Breathe.”

It’s good to have people in your life to remind you to breathe. Thanks.

Breathe. Just Breathe.

Breathe. Just breathe. Like the Anna Nalick song says.

Life can really throw challenges in the mix on a whim, can’t it? Especially when it seems everything is just fine, all is well, just a bowl of cherries. But, o no, things are too happy, too smooth, too easy… Here come the challenges, the doubts, the fears, the worries, the anxieties. And then my breathing becomes erratic. As does my heart. And then my head throbs. And it all spirals down.

I have to consciously and deliberately stop. Stop and breathe. Stop and write it out – its how I learned to process my thoughts long ago. Stop and breathe some more. Have a cup of mint tea. Break it down and handle one thing at a time. One thing at a time. And just breathe.

I’m a visual person, so seeing my thoughts on paper makes them easier to handle. A therapist once told me, too, that I do fine when I have information. Withhold information from me – tell a little white lie – leave a little of the facts out – say something just to appease me -- and my breathing becomes erratic.

One thing at a time. One challenge at a time.

And breathe. Just breathe.

Adrift

In the wee small hours of the morning I stood on the balcony of the ship and watched as we passed thru seemingly endless rain showers. Fog drifted in and out on an eerie carpet that was the grey ocean below. Grey everywhere. Although it was lonely and a little frightening standing there alone, it was where I belonged. The fog was the cloak I should be wearing that morning. Its heaviness suited me.

I was disoriented and lost – as lost as the tall ship drifting in and out of the clouds. What was it doing out here on this vast emptiness? Where had it come from? Where was it going? Watching the sails argue with the wind, I realized I was the ship and the ocean she sailed upon was my life. Drifting. Always drifting. With no direction, no compass, no land in sight.

This morning I awoke at sea yet again. Pre-dawn and it is grey. The fog has embraced me like an old friend. And here I am once more, drifting in and out of softly falling rain. Disoriented, the horizon is a blur. The guiding stars are gone. Haze obscures the view. The land that is the future is nowhere to be found. And something is haunting me...

Drifting. Just drifting. With no direction, no compass and no land in sight.

Procrastination

Procrastination - the deferment or avoidance of an action or task; often linked to perfectionism.

Hmmm… perfectionism? Never looked at it that way before. I just thought it meant I suffer bouts of laziness. Things I procrastinate the most about are laundry and packing. Both of which I need to do in the next couple of days. I don’t even mind laundry that much – it’s just going up and down two flights of stairs to do it. So, as we embark on our annual house-hunting adventures once more (this time we’re serious) the deal breaker is “where is the laundry?” If it’s in the basement, we move on to the next house.

And then there’s packing for a trip… I’d pay someone to do it for me. Somewhere along the way I not only took on the job of packing for myself, but also the Mister. I think that happened when he was so wrapped up in his career that the only trip-related thing he had time for was getting in the car and driving to the airport. It was kind of a compromise. I got to get up each day and do whatever I wanted to do (hence the charmed life...); he worked his butt off. But in the last year his time has become more his own, so on the last trip he [attempted to] pack for himself. That was interesting… I truly think it’s just easier for me to do it rather than answer endless questions. “Do you know where my travel toothbrush is?” “What shirt goes with this sweater?” “Did you wash my Gap jeans?” “What’s the weather going to be like?” "Where's my sports coat?"

Aghhhhh! I’ll just pack for him.

And the goal has always been to travel light. Ha! “Light” really doesn’t fit into our vocabulary when it comes to traveling. We each need a laptop, cameras (we each travel with 2 - 3 if you count the camera phones, but sometimes I've got 4 with me), cables, extension cord, power strip (yes, we travel with a power strip), chargers, IPods, speakers and an external hard drive (yes, we travel with an external hard drive – after my laptop crashed and I lost about 300 travel photos). And all of that translates to one heavy bag. And I haven’t even packed the clothes yet.

So, I’ve sufficiently procrastinated now for about 30 minutes (between writing and talking to my son). Think I’ll go download some photos from this morning. And then do the laundry. Maybe.

So here's today's question:
"What do you procrastinate about?"

Frustration

Frustration would be the word for the day, I guess.

Frustrated that we are mid-calf deep in snow and sub-zero temperatures for the 4th week in a row. It snowed all day. Mr. Man and I ventured out to the grocery and that was an adventure on ice buried below snow-packed roads. Thank God the store is only 10 minutes away. Even the dog is sick of the weather. I caught her staring blissfully (rather snow-blinded, I’m sure) out the window today and sighing. Honest to God, sighing. She thinks (as I’m beginning to) that it’s going to be like this forever. And ever and ever. Friday we had a reprieve from the snow falling, but the temperatures were in the deep freeze. When I looked out the window Friday night around 10 pm and saw the snowflakes coming down large and furious I sighed and thought, “Nothing surprises me anymore…”

Frustrated because my Photoshop – which is where I download and organize all my photos - keeps freezing up on me and telling me things that I absolutely know are not true. And I dislike the fact that I depend on it so much…

Frustrated that I’ve got a kazillion television channels and there’s still nothing on!

But I’m safe and warm and have food and “Little Miss Sunshine” to watch and make me laugh (again). So I’m lucky.

Just a little frustrated.

What Is Your Feather?

I heard a story once about a woman who had recently lost her husband to cancer. He was taken suddenly and much too young; she was devastated when he passed. But in the short time they had leading up to his death they had deep discussions about her future and the future of their little daughter. He told her, “Believe me ~ I will always be with you both.”

Weeks after his death, still griped in sorrow, she and her daughter were walking down the city street on their way home when a feather drifted down and landed at their feet. They instantly felt his presence. They lovingly swept up the feather, carried it home and placed it in a prominent place. Passing that feather each day they gained strength and truly felt he was with them. He was telling them to honor his life by getting up each day, breathing in and out and eventually living happy lives themselves.

After hearing that story I have never looked at a feather in quite the same way ... And it got me thinking. What, in my life, symbolizes something that means everything to me? As corny as it may sound ~ my wedding ring. It is a trillium (a triangle). To me that symbolizes my children, my husband and me. All add up to my life. My older son designed my ring, making it special. Last year after 12 years of marriage we added a "wedding" band to my diamond ~ thus really sealing the deal. My ring is very special to me and stands for all that we are and all we've been thru...

But I'm wondering... what is your feather?

Lesson One - Make Time

Remember how I never seem to find time to read? Well, wish me luck because I’m going to try to find time to read. I’ve had this book for several months now and I’m certain I could learn quite a bit from it. (Thank you, Bonnie, for recommending Scott Kelby!) If you’re not familiar with Mr. Kelby’s work, well speaking as someone who absolutely abhors manuals and technical anything, he makes learning somewhat less painful. Fun, in fact.

So, in between doing some still life shoots today ~ although my natural light has literally gone out the window as it is cloudy today and about to snow for the next four days ~ and doing a bit of cleaning (it’s Thursday) and catching up on Season 6 of The Gilmore Girls so I can pass it on to Amber for the snowy weekend and researching a new Denver neighborhood I'm quite excited about (and possibly - dare I say it? - that new house?!!) ~~ I’m going to read.

Hope I have time…

The Winter of My Discontent

I just haven’t been feelin’ it lately ~ creativity, that is. I think I’ve finally hit the wall with this whole snow and ice thing. I’ve fallen victim to too much winter ~ too intensely and too incessantly. I moved to Colorado to escape the relentless grey and cold and snow/ice packed streets of the Midwest. For the first time in 32 years I feel as though I’m back there again. And I’m just as grumpy now as I was discontent then. Too many winters of discontent…

Colorado is known for its moderate climate. That, and the beautiful landscape, is why I decided to make it my home and raise my family here. It has been reputed that Colorado experiences 300 days of sunshine a year. I can tell you (after 32 years) that’s pretty close. Summers days are warm, with the evenings cooling off just enough to make a glass of wine and some conversation on the porch (with no bugs!) a lovely way to end the day. Autumn is absolutely golden ~ crisp and warm and bursting with color. Winter brings cooler temperatures and some snow ~ which melts within a couple of days (in the city; not the mountains). Spring can be the most interesting season when ~ just as you are ready for tulips to bloom ~ snow falls from the sky; heavy snow in abundant amounts. But, thankfully that too, melts quickly as that radiant sun beams down on us sitting at a mile high.

So to experience a crippling snow storm and cold temperatures that result in ice everywhere every week for 4 weeks in a row is just too much.

I get cranky. I grow to really dislike my surroundings. Walking nowhere but the neighborhood I’m growing increasingly unhappy with is not the pleasant way to start my day. Grrrr…

Things happen for a reason I guess. There must be some silver lining here. Let me see… where could that be?? Perhaps it can be found here ~ I have to express my creativity in some way, so finding new ways in which to photograph old things has stretched me a bit. I have renewed incentive to prepare the house to get it on the market; as well as searching out neighborhoods and finding that perfect new home. So I guess those two things will be my salvation to see me thru the storms.

Meanwhile, we’re bracing for temperatures in the 2-3º range and 4-8 inches of new snow over the next three days. And you know what I say… “When Mother Nature gives you snow and ice, give yourself tulips!”

I see lots of bouquets in my future…

Monday, Monday

So I’m thinking of the millions of people going off to work this morning, many to a tiny cubicle, an angry boss breathing down their neck as they sit stiffly all day staring at a monitor and wishing they were anywhere but where they are. At least that’s how Mondays used start for me. And Tuesdays and Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays. With rare exception, I spent 22 years like that. The memory makes me shudder.

So imagine my curiosity as I viewed a segment on The Today Show this morning when they reported on the #1 company in the country to work for. Not surprising Fortune Magazine has named Google the best place to work. http://money.cnn.com/magazines/fortune/bestcompanies/2007/index.html
I’ve heard tell that those crazy, innovative California companies have some pretty amazing workplaces ~ campuses they call them. Apparently everyone wants to work at Google. So much so that they receive 3,000 applications a day. And who wouldn’t want to work where you are privy to 11 gourmet restaurants; a gym complete with personal trainers; five doctors on staff; incentives as much as $5,000 if you buy a hybrid car. You can wear your ‘jammies to work (my pink flamingos with the Airstream trailers would be a hit!). You can cruise around the office on roller skates and bring your dog with you (as long as your co-workers are ok with it). There’s a laundry facility on site and you can get your car washed while you’re sitting on your exercise ball working away on your laptop. Got a mental block? Play a game of pool or shoot some hoops till it passes. No time to get a hair cut? No worries, there are stylists on site as well. $2,000 will be yours if you refer a friend for a job and they’re hired. And, of course it goes without saying, massage therapists are on duty almost around the clock. On site child care is a given.

And the real kicker ~ all of this is FREE!

Productivity and employee morale sky rockets. There’s the occasional crunch which will require an all-nighter or two, but that’s a small sacrifice for all the perks. More than a fair exchange. Believe me, I know companies who expect such loyalty and provide none of those benefits in return…

If I could drive to work in my new Prius and wander into my office in my flannel Nick & Nora ‘jammies, with Simba at my side, a scrumptious breakfast awaiting me, knowing that I could work out later and then get a massage and a hair cut, I might ~ might ~ be tempted to go back to workin’ for the man.

Maybe. But I doubt it.

Be Careful What You Wish For.

Omg, I got so busy doing a natural light – catch it while you can – shoot that I almost forgot to write. Since my office underwent a slight re-do over the holidays I’m working with a smaller work table, placed in a different spot, which – duh – I realized has much better morning and early afternoon light than my old work table ever had. Duh. And the room will stay this way with smaller work spaces which can readily and quickly be taken down because dog gone it, I’m planning to be in my new house by Amber’s birthday (May 3)

My whole morning is running about an hour behind my usual schedule anyway. That’s allowed on a Sunday, isn’t it? I slept a little later, walked a little longer and ate a little larger breakfast than I typically do. I don’t know if any of that has to do with the fact that Charlie’s out of town this weekend, but it’s interesting. *wink*

That whole situation caused me to do some thinking. (Which really is a lot to ask on a lazy Sunday morning ~ thinking.) Since I record my life in images that’s how I keep track of time. So I moved my cursor over that "ruler of time" at the top of my photo files to see when the last time was that Charlie and I were apart. And just as I thought, it was August of 2005. He was in Dallas checking on his branch there and I flew down later in the week to join him. Almost exactly a year ago (January 4) he sold all of his companies. He’s been developing a new business for the past year. From our living room. We’ve been together night ‘n day, 24/7 for 16 months. Night ‘n day. 24/7.

For 10 years I complained that he was married to his career. I never saw him and when I did he was preoccupied or exhausted. So, for the last 16 months, we’ve been together. Night ‘n day. 24/7. Be careful what you wish for. *wink*

What have I (I dare say “we”) learned from this change of life? You mean besides, be careful what you wish for? I have learned that I love my husband dearly. He is funny and patient and kind and smart and has a huge heart. I’ve also learned that a little of him goes a long way. I have learned that I need my space. I need a lot of space. Daily.

I have learned that I need a routine, a schedule. I don’t function well without one. Some call me anal (we’ve got to think of a better word ~ that conjures up visions of places I don’t want to go… even the thesaurus doesn’t want to go there.). I prefer to say I’m “organized.” I mean, is it bad to say that Monday is laundry day (Mom would totally agree) or Tuesday and Wednesday are for working with images; Thursday is for cleaning the house and Friday is slated for destination shoots? If I didn’t schedule my life, I would never get anything accomplished. Trust me. I wouldn’t.

Charlie, on the other hand, has always flown by the seat of his pants and somehow he always comes out a star. He was multi-tasking before the word was even thought of. And if you search “procrastination” in Wikipedia, they’ll give you a link to him. He is a master of the spoken word. He can charm the most hardened of personalities. And a friend once said to me, "Cindi, Charlie could talk to a dead man. And sell him something." So, you can see, in that respect, he drives me crazy.

I’ve learned that we are very competitive. It doesn’t matter if we’re talking about cooking or photography or vacuuming or losing weight. We’re competing. Thank goodness we finally admitted it and started laughing about it or we’d be sunk. So we’ve definitely learned that we can’t work together. It’s hard enough standing in the kitchen – on opposite sides of the room – and not tell each other a better way to do something.

He knows I say all of this with love. And I’m not divulging anything here that we haven’t talked about. And laughed about. Lesson One – never lose your sense of humour!

On the flip side, I’ve also learned that we really are best friends. We have inside jokes. We have history. We can, to a point, give each other a look and know, without words, what we we’re talkin’ about. I can't add and he can't spell; so we balance each other out. We travel well together because we like the same things. We like walking around for no particular reason. We love good food and good wine. We like similar types of music (usually). We love nature. We love art. We love beaches and mountains and can get lost in the endless ebb and flow of the ocean for hours upon hours.

So as trite as it may sound, I do believe absence makes the heart grow fonder. He’s only been gone for 2 days and I can’t wait to see him tonight and hear about his weekend.

I'm sure I had more fun than he did. Not that I'm competing or anything...

Gotta’ run ~ that light’s not going to stay there all day!

10 Minutes

I slept about 10 minutes last night. Granted I did it about 100 times, but only at 10 minute intervals. I hate it when that happens. Simba started it by whining to go out around 1:30 am. I couldn’t really be upset with her. Her whole routine was turned on its ear when the snow started three weeks ago; then came the holidays and people coming and going; then more snow. She’s in a total doggie twilight zone.

But after running up and down the stairs with her (I’m thinkin’ we might want to include a couple of ranch style homes in that house-hunt…) it was toss, turn; toss, turn, barely hearing the new silent humidifier as it blows a steady warm mist in Mr. Man’s face so he can breathe thru his allergies. The silence keeps me awake. O, how I miss summer… that big, old-fashioned black fan humming in my ear… For now I’ve got my Miami Sound Machine on my side of the bed tuned to an orchestra of chirping crickets to lull me back to la-la land. (It really has nothing to do w/Miami; it came from Bed, Bath & Beyond ~ I just dubbed it the Miami Sound Machine.) But the crickets just weren’t doing it for me last night. Toss, turn; toss, turn. My hip is making its presence known and I start wondering if all that moist air being pumped into the room 24/7 not only makes it impossible for our daily bath towels to dry and leaves a slight film on my reading glasses, but might also be aggravating the bones in my hip.

By 5:00, after the alarm has gone off three ~ yes three~ times, I open my eyes. And once you do that, you know it’s all over. The alarm wasn’t for me; it was for him. But it’s really kind of a mute point now. So, eyes open I start thinking ~ I want to drop Karen a note; I need to get back to Deborah; I want to check in w/Shirley; I need to IM Amber if she’s online… And then I started to smile and a little chuckle formed somewhere in the far reaches of my brain. Not close enough to actually make it out my mouth, but it was there. Once you start to see the humour ~ or at least the interesting part ~ the day is truly beginning.

I was thinking how all of our conversations, our sharing, our connections that take place in cyberspace are not all that unlike that of the coffee klatches, the bridge games, the telephone conversations our mothers had in the 50’s and 60’s. It’s just that now we don’t always know what Mabel looks like or exactly where Betty lives or maybe what Ethel does for a living and it helps to know how to type fast. But the friendships can run just as deep, sometimes deeper. Sometimes it’s easier to open up and show who you are in space ~ and sometimes there’s a comfort zone that comes with distance. Or maybe that’s just the writer in me. Well, that and one can espouse philosophical ramblings and share innermost secrets whilst sporting Nick & Nora flannel ‘jammies w/pink flamingoes and Airstream trailers on them. But I can tell you, I have laughed harder, learned more, had my brain tapped a little more and cared more genuinely with women I’ve met online than I have with a lot of women I’ve known in “real” life.

That’s why this whole worldwide web thing fascinates me. I’ll never understand how it works ~ I mean literally ~ and I don’t want to know. I don’t need to know how to build the clock; just tell me what time it is. But it certainly has made the world a smaller place. I’ll never forget how amazed I was the first time I saw a photograph of flowers – cosmos, I believe – blooming in a backyard garden in Japan… the same cosmos that were blooming on my patio. It suddenly was abundantly clear to me that we are, indeed, all more alike than we are different. And how can anyone NOT see that? We all came from mothers; we all love our children; we all love beauty; we all want happiness and health…

I won’t get up on my soapbox now; it’s too early and I don’t have the energy for that kind of sermon.

Besides, my 10 minutes are up.

The Price of Being Hip

So I bought an In Style magazine last week. I used to subscribe, but have recently let a few subscriptions lapse because I just can’t keep up with them all. (See previous entry re: reading…) I’m not sure but I think for the first time in years I didn’t even renew “O,” Oprah’s magazine…

Anyway I thought I’d treat myself and buy some fluff reading for the weekly snow-in. (More on that in a minute. Grrr.) A few pages in I found my interest waning. Half way thru I started thinking, “Who are these people? And why do I care what $1,500 bag they carry? Or that Justin now has a clothing line? Or that the latest trend is to drink champagne on ice with a twist of lemon? (way to ruin good champagne!)” I never made it to the last page.

Could it be I’m getting so old I’m losing interest in fashion? Is it possible I am realizing at my age that there are more important things in the world than the latest trends? That maybe, contrary to what my "lounging" pants say, it is NOT all about me?? Am I possibly outgrowing the need to be hip, instead opting for comfort and goodwill? And speaking of comfortable hips, I learned last year that the increasingly nagging ache in my left one is officially osteopenia – a predecessor to osteoporosis. It makes sitting for any length of time or walking in anything but shoes w/good support uncomfortable. No, I’m not quite into Grandma’s orthopedic shoes yet, but let’s just say The Walking Company gets a lot of business from me and Motrin is my friend…

Again, I credit my Mom for my love of fashion. (I wrote a whole piece about that back in the ol’ blog days.) She grew up in a large farming family, so there wasn’t a lot of extra cash lying around for stylish clothes for all the sisters. Grandma sewed and all the girls learned the craft as well. So when my sisters and I (there are three of us) were growing up, Mom sewed almost all of our clothes. (My older sister and I inherited the sewing gene; I don't know what happened to Robin...) Anyway, I thought everyone’s Mom sewed. Until four of my friends and I needed cheerleading uniforms because we missed the “ordering” window and they needed to be hand-made and no one else’s Mom knew how to sew. Yup, Mom made all five of ‘em. In between trying to sleep because she was a nurse on the night shift at the local hospital.

But I digress. (You’ll find I do that a lot.) I think fashion started taking a backseat for me when I finally left the corporate world (just about the happiest day of my life) and rid the closet of all those snazzy professional clothes. Then a couple of years later I took a serious grip on my new camera and headed into the woods. Suddenly it didn’t matter what I looked like because I was behind the lens, not in front of it. My uniform became a baseball cap, jeans, a solid color tee or sweatshirt and hiking boots. An outfit that requires thought gives me a headache now. And the money I previously spent on clothes now goes into camera equipment.

In closing, I know you’re just dying to hear today’s weather. As promised, it’s snowing ~ nice big fluffy flakes sometimes coming down at a slight horizontal slant as the wind gusts. They’re saying anywhere from 6-8 inches or more. It might quit this afternoon or it might not. At this point it’s like that $1,500 bag… Who cares?

Happy weekend to y’all! I’m off to look thru those Caribbean vacation photos…

From the Land of Ice and Snow

I can handle the snow. It’s the ice that drives me crazy. There’s just something about my bum meeting the earth at lightning speed that sets a bad tone for the day. Even though I’m only 5’4” my center of gravity is a lot higher than Simba’s; so when she decides to take me for a ride I have more to lose. I guess the reason it bothers me so much is because this isn’t the Colorado I know and love. In the 32 years I’ve called Colorado home, the snow we get almost always melts within a couple of days. It never lasts this long.

And guess what? Even though the situation is improving, we’re supposed to get more snow tomorrow!!!

Being somewhat housebound has taught me something, too. I’m addicted to fresh air. And nature. Even my daily photography has suffered. I always, always have some form of camera with me on my morning walks (and I walk every morning). Lately it’s been too dangerous to carry a camera; I even worry about carrying my cell phone w/the camera. It not only diminishes the joy of my daily strolls, but I’ve got very few new images. Again – a lesson. I didn’t realize how daily shooting had become such an essential part of my life. I guess it’s time to move photography inside for still life shots. Not as enticing to me as nature, but it’ll have to do for now.

Paraphrasing something my favorite writing teacher once said,
“When creative people are creating, they’ve got the world on a string, sittin’ on a rainbow. When they’re not creating, they’re in therapy.”

Let’s see… where did I put my therapist’s number??

If I sound like I’m whining ~ yup, I am.

I still find myself w/out the ultimate answer as to what I should or shouldn’t write about and put out there for the world to see. I guess I’ll just take it one day at a time and go where my head and my heart think I should go. In mulling the thought over though, I was reminded of a quote (As you will see, I’m a nut for quotes).

“A true artist is always unsatisfied with whatever they do. But you also have to force yourself to put something out there every once in awhile or you’ll never get anywhere.” **Lucas Shuman**

Yes, that’s my son. I would say “out of the mouths of babes” but he was about 26 when he said it. I know Luke was referring to art literally, but I think it applies to any form of creativity. That includes writing. That book of mine that’s waiting to be written will require me “putting myself out there” to a certain extent ~ perhaps causing some who know me to scratch their heads in bewilderment. So maybe warming up to it via blog could be an interesting exercise. Testing the waters so to speak.

We’ll see. All I know is writing is how I have always processed my thoughts. Writing has helped me solve some pretty big quandaries. Writing has helped me make some big life decisions. Writing doesn’t judge, preach or let me down. It is always there for me.

I’ve recently gotten acquainted with a gifted young woman ~ an artist and writer. Her writing is designed to not only tell a story, but to leave you pondering. I love that. So, thank you m’dear way out East (and if you're reading this you know who you are). :) You have inspired me. Borrowing a page from your book, I’ve decided to occasionally close my posting with a question. So today I ask ~

What is your outlet ~ your "go to" thing? What always helps you row your boat thru rough waters?

Censorship

Two things on my mind this morning; well maybe three.

The first one – I fell asleep last night worried that I wouldn’t have anything to write about this morning. Two days into the blog and I’m putting pressure on myself already. Sheesh. If you don’t know me; you do now...

Second – and this ties into the first – I worry about the “exposure” anything posted to the internet provides. Which isn’t always a good thing. When I wrote on my blog a few years ago ( I think it was back in 2002 or 3…) I was fairly new to the ways of cyberspace. A babe in the woods so to speak. So I never really thought about who might be reading what I was writing. Now I’m a little more experienced in the interactive nature of the internet and the attention – both invited and uninvited – it can bring. Now I actually know people in cyberspace; I have people I consider friends in all parts of the world. It’s exciting. But the flip side can be a little frightening. There are people in all parts of the world who I don’t consider friends; I may not even know them. But they know me. And, that, my friend, gives me pause (literally) when it comes to writing about my life and my feelings.

Which poses the question – is self censorship required now? I don’t like that thought. After all, the writing I enjoy most (and am told I do best) is that of the personal essay genre. If I can’t write what I’m thinking and feeling and experiencing, I’m pretty much stifled. So, it’s a fine line – safety or taking a chance…

The third thing on my mind? Cabin fever. I’m so over snow and cold and icy sidewalks!

And it’s only the first week in January… more on that tomorrow.

The Art of Reading and Losing Weight

So I went to sleep with a smile on my face last night. (Get your mind out of the gutter and off Colfax Avenue…) For one thing I’m excited about having an outlet for my thoughts again. I’m even more encouraged because as opposed to the last time I blogged, at least now I know some fellow bloggers and someone might actually occasionally maybe read my stuff. I mean when is the last time I was up at 6 am by choice? I must have some new momentum going.

Second, I finished a book last night. When’s the last time I finished a book? I love books. I love reading. And how many writers have I heard state that it’s so important for writers to be readers as well? (I can’t tell you how many because I can’t remember. But I know it’s important.) Something my Mom said last summer tied the whole question of why I don’t read more up with a bow for me. We were in a Borders while visiting her back in Iowa. Charlie and I were loading up on books for the trip back home and I said, “Mom, my treat. Pick something out .” She responded with, “Oh, no, but thanks. I don’t read as much as I did there for awhile [I knew she was referring to the first few months after my Dad passed]. I’d rather have something to show for my time.” And there it was. My answer. Mom is always doing something with her hands ~ baking, sewing, embroidery, quilting, crafts. I don’t remember ever really seeing her sit without something in her lap keeping her busy. She grew up during the Depression ~ when nothing was wasted, even your time.

So, I, too, grew up thinking that sitting down to read a book was a luxury; I really should be doing something “productive.” Old habits die hard… So to look at reading as a necessity is a hard one to wrap my head around.

The book I finished was “I Feel Bad About My Neck ~ And Other Thoughts About Being A Woman” by Nora Ephron. It’s a short book, a quick read. But I also breezed thru it because it’s my genre. Just thoughts on real life ~ written with a great deal of humour with a final punch of real poignancy. My kinda’ girl. I’ve always said of my writing that if I can make you laugh and make you cry, I have succeeded. We’ll see if I’ve still got it…

And on a totally unrelated note, ok two totally unrelated notes:

Today was the big weigh-in I’ve been avoiding since returning from the cruise. Not that I think I gained any weight on the cruise; I was disappointed in the food this time. (When your favorite place for dinner turns out to be Johnny Rockets for a cheeseburger, you know the food isn’t all that.) And we walked for hours whenever in port. So I think that balanced out. The holidays were a little more dangerous. Lots of sugar around and you know given half a chance, I’ll OD on that. Another quality I can thank Mom for... *wink*

But fortunately the news wasn’t as bad as I had expected… I’ve got 10 lbs. to lose to get back to where I was a couple of years ago ~ the time I lost 20 lbs. on Meridia ~ that magic little weight loss pill which I think also gave me heart palpitations. Or it could have been peri-menopause; guess I’ll never know. At any rate, I’ll be happy to lose 10; ecstatic to lose 15. Mr. Man and I are both committing to Weight Watchers again. Online, of course. I’m not going public in the flesh (so to speak) with this whole numbers thing. We’ll see how long I last this time. It’s amazing how many points chocolate and wine can eat up… (no pun intended, but it turned out that way.) I try to balance it with exercise ~ the more you exercise the more “bonus points” you get each day. I see a lot of walking in my future...

My other note… we’re getting closer to adding to our family. It could happen in a couple of days. I’ll leave you hangin’ on that one. :)

By Way of Introduction & Explanation...

I maintained a blog for about three years. When photography became the obsession that took over my life, my writing fell by the wayside. Now a couple of years later, I find I am missing the one thing I have always had in my life, the thing that has carried me this far ~ words. And using them as an expression of myself. So we'll give this blog thing another whirl... There seemed like no better time than the beginning of a new year (ironically my first blog began on another January 1...).

Why "Scenes From a Charmed Life"? Because I don't know if it had anything to do with writing the annual Christmas letter (yes, I'm one of those people...) and reviewing the year in photographs, but it occured to me that I am living a charmed life. I've been blessed with good health; loving family and friends who make me laugh and give me unending support; safety & security; a warm home and opportunities to travel and learn and grow as a human being. And I'm wondering if writing about it just might lead me to some answers I've been seeking.

So, come on along if you want. I'm going to write as often as I can ~ if for no other reason than it's good practice. Writing is like anything else; the more you do it, the better you are.

Here's to 2007. It's going to be a good year. I feel it...