A-choo! Bless You!

If you’ve never been owned by a cat (and they do own you; it’s not the other way around) you probably won’t get this and might as well stop reading right here.

I’ve had cats in my life for over 30 years. They’ve come and gone and moved on; but I’ve always, always got one in my life. It started way back with Luigi (she was a beautiful long-haired girl – yes, girl). In keeping with the ethnic names Pedro came into my life, then Cisco, Fritz, Max (we had a German theme going for awhile); enter Spider, Babette, Cheetah (they were gorgeous long-haired white cats, brother and sister; Babette had blue eyes ~ Cheetah had one blue eye and one green), Pepper, Ames and A-choo. I may have missed someone in there ~ there have been so many. And in fairness to the other loves in my life – my dogs – I’ve had the pleasure of knowing Ginger, Jack, Dolly (by marriage) and Simba. My dogs are the reason I’ve stayed reasonably in shape with all that hiking.

But the dogs will be a story for another day. Today I’m thinking about my cats. The cats I have known have run the gambit from cuddly to aloof; funny to just plain odd. I’ve known some that are very smart and some that are about half a bubble off. And I’ve always had them in pairs ~ to keep each other company. Only once in my life did I have a solo cat, Pepper, and that was only for a short time before Ames came along.

Until now that is. When our beloved Ames lost his battle with cancer 8 months ago, A-choo, our 12 year old long-haired bundle of fur became an only cat. (Her name btw came from the fact that when we first met her at the Denver Dumb Friends League and subsequently adopted her – she sneezed a lot.) After time for grieving Ames' passing, we began to think about adopting a little buddy for A-choo. We were traveling a lot and she was being left at home alone (Simba stays with “Grandpa and Grandma”). And although “Grandpa” came by every day to visit with her, we were feeling bad that she was, for the most part, alone.

Once we were home for more than 5 minutes, I noticed A-choo was “talking” to me a lot. I started listening to her. And I began to hear her saying she was kind of liking this being the only cat in the house thing. She was feelin’ the love. She was, at long last, the Princess she was destined to be. And I noticed something else. She’s really funny. She has a great personality – charming and cuddly (on her terms, of course) and holy moly, what a talker! She chirps and squeaks and purrs incessantly. She follows me around all day and sits next to my desk when I'm working. When we come home she runs to the door (as only a dog would do) and launches into her monologue recounting everything that happened while we were gone. No doubt, tattling on Simba for the most part.

So we have decided to let her have her moment in the sun ~ however long that moment may last. She will remain an only cat in all her glory for the rest of her days ~ or until she tells me she’s ready for a buddy. Until then, I am her BFF. And I’m feelin’ the love, too.

'Tis Good for the Soul

Children can be so cruel.

After a hike in the snow this morning (well, it’s melting, but it’s still there and it’s still February) I came home to download my photographic gems. As they were slowly making their way into my files, I noticed an incoming email fading into the corner of my screen. My son had spent the weekend researching various honeymoon locales in Hawaii and was sending me a link to photographs of the condo they are considering leasing for a week. You know ~ the one on the beach with the ocean view. Yup, there’s the ocean alright. It’s as aquamarine as ever. As seen from the balcony with two cozy chairs and umbrella drinks on the railing. And there’s the cute little kitchen, the warm and inviting living room and the gorgeous bedroom with those plantation type shutters.

And if that wasn’t enough, the next link led me to a Google satellite view of everything near the condo. Yup, there’s the ocean. Aquamarine as ever. Just shoot me now. I replied to his email saying I’ll be at the other end of the complex and promise I won’t bother them.

Nah. I wouldn’t do that.

But I am ready for the ocean again. And it’s only been 3 months since I had my fix (although those two weeks were nonstop and there was little time to just be with the sea). Same son (who btw i think missed his calling; he is one helluva' travel planner!) knows that I am a collector of quotes and passed this one on to me not long ago:

“Travel is the best investment you can make in yourself.” Dave Letterman

I concur. And I’m ready. Nothing more profound to say than that. I’m just ready.

Stuck in the Middle With Me

Recently I read an interview with Pulitzer Prize-winning author, Richard Ford, and was struck by something he said.

“Anybody can be good in a crisis. It’s after the climactic has happened that you have to be pretty determined. Most of life is spent in the after part. That’s when we have to be good humans. Where there’s no great drama is where we have to live."

I found that as simple as that statement is, it’s a good reminder to appreciate every moment. We do spend most of our time in the day-to-day ordinary and routine. Each day contains some of the boring and mundane. We seem to just drift thru our days, calling for weekend dinner reservations, planning the trip to Hawaii six months away -- always waiting for something more exciting to happen than anything that is going on now. I’ll be happy when…

Which brought to mind another inspiration I picked up along the way. As a photographer one of my favorite places to roam are old cemeteries. Wandering the rows of stone, I am intrigued by the stories that lie behind those messages literally etched in stone ~ all the history of lives lived and loved. I reflect on what kind of people they may have been… did they have happy lives? Were they loved? Did they love back? Did they enjoy what they did each day? How did they live their dash?

Most headstones carry the date a person is born and the date they die. The two are connected by a dash. So, you’re born, you die; but how did you live your dash? How did you spend your days? It was an idea presented in a eulogy I heard once. It caught my attention and I’ve never forgotten it. My dash certainly won’t be declared in stone as the dates will be. After I’m gone will anyone remember my dash?

So we live in the ordinary ~ in the here and now ~ the present. I used to think that I had to do something grand and flamboyant to be remembered. I needed to be famous to be someone. I constantly felt inadequate, was constantly striving for more. But I’m learning there is much to be said for just living in the middle ~ in the dash if you will. As Mr. Ford said, “That’s when we have to be good humans.” And maybe that’s enough ~ to live a good and decent life. Yup, I think being in the middle is where I’m meant to be. I’m trying it on for size and it’s feeling pretty comfortable.

And the bonus? I truly believe that when you accept who you are and become satisfied, content and happy with yourself and you don't need a single thing to make you complete ~ you’re enough just the way you are ~~~ that’s when great things happen.

Sex, Drugs and No Rock 'n Roll

I have a confession to make; and please don’t think less of me for it...

I’m addicted to the whole Anna Nicole “how did she really die/where should she be buried/who’s the daddy” saga. I know. Sick, right? Back in the day the mister was obsessed with the OJ Simpson trial (that was after being glued to the Ollie North scandal). He worked in sales at the time so would conveniently arrange his schedule around afternoons with Court TV. I didn’t get it at all. I mean that trial was very serious stuff, and I didn’t see the entertainment value in it. It was an appalling event.

Well, Anna Nicole is my OJ Simpson. It’s a train wreck and I can’t stop looking. I’m not saying her story isn’t horrendous; her son died suddenly and far too young. She died suddenly and far too young. Her life was one big cry for attention and her death appears to be the same. She led a troubled life and that didn’t stop with her death. It’s all sad ~ very sad.

But it’s also a soap opera observing the hearing deciding where she should be buried play out on national television. It’s like The Anna Nicole Show never got cancelled. The judge is hoot ~ a New Yorker in Florida with a laid back manner, a quirky sense of humour (he calls the lawyer for Anna’s Mom “Texas”) and yet surprising humanity (he makes a point of picking up the pace as the afternoon wanes on because people in the court have families to get home to). The lawyers are cutthroat and crafty. The players – and they are players – each have their own version of what happened and what should happen and what she would want. Intrigue enters in as bank accounts and sex and drugs all become part of the narrative. All that’s missing is the rock ‘n roll ~ although Anna’s biological father does kind of have Elvis hair… What’s interesting is that they have wandered so far afield you forget that the only issue that should be decided here is just where this poor soul should be put to rest. And in the big scheme of things – does it really matter? She’s gone.

I think the next chapter will be the important one (with probably even more craziness) ~ who is going to raise that poor orphaned little girl? And although, television only serves as the background to my day (really – I’m not sitting and staring at the tube, hanging on every word), I have a feeling I’ll be tuning into the cable news networks in the afternoon to see if Zsa Zsa’s husband really is the father…

Just Like That...

November 10, 2006 Frank Bingham’s life was changed in an instant and forever. Frank and his wife, Becca, were crossing a downtown Denver street with their two young children, Macie and Garrison, when a drunk driver ran a red light, struck the family and fled the scene.

Becca, Macie and Garrison died at the scene; Frank was injured, but survived. God’s hand in this? The license plate fell off the death weapon that was the pick-up truck and police were able to trace it to the driver. His blood alcohol level was nearly twice the legal limit. He is awaiting trial now.

Frank Bingham granted his first interview with a local news reporter the other night and I sat in awe of him. He’s trying to find the good in the situation. He’s grateful for the time he had with his loving wife and his beautiful children. Of course he misses them desperately, but he is finding a way to get out of bed each day and honor their memories. He can’t let himself think about the senseless, violent way they died or about the man at whose hand they died. Not yet. But he is hoping that eventually – someday – he will be able to forgive. Because he knows that living a life of vengefulness and hate will only serve to destroy him.

Forgive? Wow. None of us knows what we would do should something as horrible as this happen to us. To quote James Arthur Ray: “Not forgiving is like drinking poison and hoping the other person will die.” True. But it certainly would be difficult to put into practice if you saw your whole life disappear before your eyes.

Frank went on to say that he has received so many kind letters and cards ~ people telling him how his tragic story has made them rethink their lives. Knowing that your life can change in a brief moment – and these things DO happen – makes us realize what is important, what we should pay attention to while we can. There are so many lessons in Frank’s story ~ his story is so heart-wrenching I cry every time I think about it. The lessons? Don’t drink and drive; hold your loved ones close while you can; don’t let those little things bug you; rejoice in every minute you have on this planet. Because you never know when a truck is going to come around the corner and change your life in an instant. Just like that…

Read Frank’s story in his own words
http://www.9news.com/rss/article.aspx?storyid=65120

It Was A Holiday!!

You know what I don’t get? Ice fishing. What would possess a person to walk out on ice that may or may not hold your body weight (let alone your cooler full of beer), drill a hole in said ice, sit on an orange plastic bucket from Home Depot, drop a line down said hole and sit for hours? I seriously don’t get it.

The park was full of ice fisher-guys yesterday because it was one of those faux holidays (President’s Day). I had even forgotten that it was a “holiday” because all of my days run into one another and it really doesn’t matter what day it is (unless I have a dentist appointment or a haircut scheduled – two important dates on my calendar). But I was reminded in grand fashion as I was sitting on one of my favorite benches gazing out across the frozen lake to Mt. Evans. The sun gave me a smooch; the sky was that brilliant blinding Colorado blue. What a perfect time and place to let my thoughts wander, then get my head together. In that order. My tranquility was shattered as two SUV’s pulled up about 100 yards from me (I say that like I know – I’m rolling my eyes here. My estimation of distances is as poor as my sense of direction. Let’s just say they were close.) One fisher-fella’ jumped out of each vehicle. Here’s the conversation that set me back on the path real quick.

“Look at you. Are you drinkin’ a beer already? Look at you!”

“Hell yea! It’s a holiday.”

“Well then you should be drinkin’ whiskey!”

Note: It was 9:15 am. AM. As in morning. I hadn’t had breakfast yet. And the fellow drinking the beer didn’t just pop one open as he exited his truck… He hopped out of the truck, took one last swig and tossed the can in the trash dumpster. He had consumed the beer on the road on the way to the park.

Holy moly. I mean I don’t begrudge someone having a beer – God knows I like my wine - but 9:15 in the morning? And in the car?

That little exchange set fido and I on the trail real fast. I thought about that fisher-guy last night as I watched an interview on our local NBC affiliate with a gentleman from Denver – and he is a gentle man – I’ll tell you his story tomorrow. Let’s just say it is one that would make anyone think twice about drinking and driving… maybe even fisher-guy.

Your Thoughts Will Direct Your Life

Or at least your morning…

I drove into the park today (YAY! Finally!) and smiling past the deer lounging under the grove of trees near the entrance, thoughts of magpies drifted into my head. (I told you it’s a tangled mess of useless knowledge, jumbled images and scattered thoughts up there.) Why magpies? Because every time I enter the park I hear my fabulous friend/writing partner/sister in law’s voice in my ear, “Could you maybe get a better shot of a magpie to match up with that last poem (“Flight of the Magpie”)? Thanks, sweetie! I love you!” Like it’s really easy to catch a magpie in flight… or even just sitting in a tree long enough for me to focus my telephoto lens (hand-held no less), reel in the dog who is chasing a squirrel down the path and get the perfect shot. (Me rolling my eyes; it’s a good thing I love her, too.) “Sis” and I have been collaborating on a book of poetry and photographs for awhile now. Actually we’re done; we just keep tweaking it to avoid the task of marketing it. (“You do it.” “No, you do it.”)

What I really wanted to find in the park today (after an absence of two months OMG!) was an eagle or two. A couple of years ago, when I first discovered bald eagles actually visited our park for a few months each winter and all I had was my little Olympus point and shoot, I saw tons of them. Every single time - two or three would pose patiently for me. Problem was - my camera didn’t have the telephoto power to draw them in close. But, aha! Now I’m armed with a super duper telephoto lens and a better camera and I’m ready to meet the eagles!

So, of course I saw none today. Naughta. Zip. Nothin’. I got nothin’. (as my friend Paul would say.)

But what do you think I did see? Yup. Magpies. A ton of them. It was like a magpie convention. Everywhere I hiked, everywhere I drove – magpie after magpie after magpie. And when I didn’t see them, they literally called to me. I was almost back to the car, the dog was feeling extra frisky and running back and forth (yanking my camera-holding hand) and I hear a sweet birdcall I’ve never heard before. And it just kept calling. I look up and there’s a magpie, just looking at me, posing. Certainly not sounding like any magpie I’ve heard before. I was able to get off a couple of quick shots. (They still weren’t perfect and I'm still tweaking them; which is why I didn’t include one here, but rather a feeble attempt at a hawk shot.)

The moral of the story – and I not only find great irony here but a message. The law of attraction. No matter how badly I wanted to score an eagle, my first thought on entering the park was magpie. And I just couldn’t get it out of my head. Call me crazy (“You’re crazy, lady!”) but I really feel like I invited all those magpies into my life today. I’ve been looking for a decent shot of a magpie for – seriously – a year or more. I just had to work for it a little and be patient.

Aha! I think the message is – set my goals; invite what I want into my life and be tenacious about it. Work for it (there’s that nasty W word… that’s the bummer part – you’ve got to work for it) and it will happen.

“What you focus on expands.” ~~ Oprah

I wonder if that applies to losing weight…

Inside My Head Today

I wanted to go to the park today but my bones wouldn’t carry me farther than my balcony. Airbourne and I are combining efforts and putting up our dukes to fend off those nasty cold germs attempting to stage a coup. Such a shame, too… on a day filled with sunshine and soft breezes. What’s left of my mind drifted back to the last time I sat in the sun. Nope. Escapes me. It was that long ago.

My head fell back as that magnet that is my face locked into the sun. (And, yes, I hit my head on the metal bar on the top of the chair. Dammit.) What I saw behind those snugly closed eyelids was nothing. Pink, to hot pink, to red, to white. Nothing. I tried desperately to make my brain match my eyes. Nothing. I was in search of nothing. And the harder I searched the more it eluded me. I’m not good at nothing. (And it pains my grammar-purist head to even write that.)

So, I opened my eyes and looked at the sky. The clouds were high and feathery and light. I stroked my dog’s head as she fulfilled her duty of anxiously watching - and emitting sufficient low rumbling growls – toward the neighbor’s cat sashaying down the sidewalk. The neighbors’ cats love to taunt my dog; she’s such an easy mark. She’s got some deep-seated insecurities, but that’s a topic for another time. I picked up my camera and took a couple of shots of the sky. I retrieved my Polaroid and took a couple more. I watched the clouds change and become more dense, wondering if it would be a good sunset.

That cup of hot ‘n sour soup I had for lunch wasn’t going to hold me till dinner, so I ducked into the kitchen and made a peanut butter sandwich. When was the last time I had a peanut butter sandwich? Nope. Escapes me.

A nice little break and I feel somewhat rejuvenated with a refueling – fuel for the spirit and fuel for the body. Baby steps. I’m learning to relax. But I have to approach this new concept with baby steps. Who knows? Maybe tonight I’ll go crazy and pick up a magazine.

I Know Me.

Like I said… I don’t really believe in horoscopes, but they show up on my Google home page every morning and I read them for fun. This is my horoscope for today. If you read my blog entry yesterday, you’ll probably shake your head like I did…

You might seek out extra private time today and the quiet solace can do you a world of good. Unexpected visitors or a change in your schedule can increase your anxiety level, so it's important to do whatever is necessary to replenish your energy. Don't be afraid of turning off your computer and pulling the plug on your phone. If at all possible, get out and enjoy the comfort and beauty offered by nature.
Friday, February 16, 2007

‘Nuf said. I do think the Universe wants me to take a break; or at least do something I delight in for the next couple of days. O that I could spend some time in nature… I think I’m in dire need. I was surprised on our morning walk to feel milder temperatures ~ it’s only noon and it’s almost 50 degrees! But, as predicted, the wind is picking up and we most likely get gusts of 60-100 mph as the day progresses. Bummer. But this weekend looks good – it’s forecasted to be almost 60 degrees by Sunday, so there just may be a long, long Sunday stroll in store for me and the pooch (and maybe the mister). Now that’s something to be happy about! It’s the little things, ya’ know?

I’m seeing that my two creative loves don’t like to share the stage. Those of you who know me from Flickr (which is probably about 98% of my readers!) will see that I’m not posting a lot of photos there when I’m writing. I don’t think it’s that I can’t do both; it’s just that right now the writing is giving me more satisfaction. I feel more of an urge to communicate with words rather than images. Words have always been my salvation. A couple of years ago they became too difficult and I retreated into the world of images ~ it was just easier. But I missed writing desperately and am so happy to be luxuriating in the sea of words again…

Words. I actually did spend some time last night with a new book “for one more day” by Mitch Albom. He’s the guy who wrote “Tuesdays with Morrie” ~ a book that really impacted me. Morrie’s story was one that made me really think and really appreciate how precious life is and to be grateful for every day. One of the most treasured compliments I ever received was when a writing teacher compared my writing style to his (Mitch’s). I don’t think I’ll ever come close, but I was so humbly grateful for such kind words.

So, I’ll try – really try – not to notice the mess that is my basement or spend time obsessing with the house hunt (I spent about 4 hours online yesterday researching and printing out possible homes). It’ll all be there when I decide to return. And for sure I’m making time this afternoon to watch Oprah as they review “The Secret” once more. *wink*

But I know me (I’ve lived with me all my life) ~ time spent quietly will without a doubt present about 20 things I’ll want to write about. I’ll probably have three entries a day this weekend. I’m already thinking about my Dad and a few things I’ve written about him in the past (an unresolved relationship). I’m thinking about a Flickr friend whose beautiful golden retriever is dying. I’m thinking about writing a piece on aging parents and sending it to NBC Nightly News as they are doing a big segment this week and next on “Trading Places” – all about my generation caring for our parents in their final years. I’m thinking about that August wedding and how I will officially be a mother-in-law and how that will change my life. Or not.

That’s how my head works… I think writing is a form of meditation for me. When I open my mind and clear it of all the clutter and obligations, thoughts and ideas and emotions flood that space above my neck and they just have to come out thru my fingers.

I know me. I’ve lived with me all my life.

Deciphering Messages

I feel stuck and it’s frustrating. I don’t do stuck well. Stuck literally and figuratively and creatively. It happens. Especially this time of year and especially in this unusual winter in which we find ourselves living. So I’m trying to figure out the message this quandary is wearing as it reaches out its hand out to me to pull me out of this rut. I have every reason to be happy and focused on the future. Hopefully the new house will present itself soon and we can begin preparing for a move. Believe me ~ when that happens, I won’t have time to be in a rut. And we’ve got a very special wedding on the horizon ~ only 5 ½ months away now. Every reason to be happy and excited.

But what do I do in the meantime? The day to day remains and I just can’t seem to get motivated. I know for sure I’m missing starting my days seeped deep in nature as opposed to a quick ice-skate around the neighborhood. I don’t even carry my camera for fear of falling and smacking it on the ice! (I've already fished one out of a snowbank.) The message I keep coming up with (of all things…) is to relax ~ consciously take some time off from the routine and the expectations I place on myself (reference past postings re: brow-beating…). I need something to kick start my energy and especially my creativity. I’ll repeat the words of my writing teacher: “When creative people aren’t creating, they need therapy. When they’re creating; they don’t.”

I made a feeble – very feeble - attempt to be productive today. I stood in the basement w/a half full box destined for Goodwill for five minutes this morning. I turned in a circle amongst the stacks of computer disks (who uses disks???) and the hubby’s grandfather’s “horse’s arse” metal bottle opener and an empty box for the oak toilet seat the previous owner installed about 15 years ago. And about 3,000 other treasures. I couldn’t handle it; I wasn’t mentally ready; especially knowing that I had made such good progress a year ago. A year ago I spent an hour a day in the basement (I timed it) with a little TV on in the background to keep me company. (Have I mentioned I’m addicted to TV?) Every day I would have a stack of bags and boxes at the bottom of the stairs destined for Goodwill. Every morning, the mister would haul them up the stairs, load them in the Jeep and drop them off at Goodwill. I even documented my progress every day with my camera. It was incentive. Things were looking pretty good until my sweet darling head (that’s our term of endearment for each other ~ “darling head”) sold his businesses and emptied his office in the basement. So much for my efforts…

So feeling very overwhelmed this morning, I compromised by dragging my feet up two flights of stairs, going thru a 10” stack of papers hidden in a desk drawer in my office and organizing them in files.

I’m feeling the need to step back from everything – computers and the internet and the outside world and just relax. Actually sit down and read a book before 11 pm (maybe I could read more than a chapter!) or watch a couple of movies I’ve never seen. All that philosophical banter I spew about just being in the moment… perhaps I should practice what I preach, if only for a couple of days. The weekend’s coming up; maybe it’s a good time.

We’ll see. I’m not too good at relaxing…

My parting words tonight ~ be sure to check your peanut butter in the pantry. I’m a Jif girl myself, but the mister is a Peter Pan guy (o, the irony...) and sure enough, the brand new jar of Peter Pan on the shelf had a number that started with 2111 stamped on the lid. In the el trasho. And once you’ve trashed the peanut butter, if you’re interested at all in “The Secret” I wrote about earlier here, you might want to tune into Oprah tomorrow. The show will be devoted to the overwhelming response they received from viewers after last week’s show discussing “The Secret.”

Be safe and be healthy. Peace out.

Wanderlust

Planning for the next phase of one’s life is exhausting. And by that I mean searching out neighborhoods and homes. The one in our hands down favorite first choice neighborhood didn’t materialize; it was mysteriously taken off the market last week. So for whatever reason - and I do believe things happen for a reason - that wasn’t our house.

I’m staying positive; I’m just tired and feeling terribly behind on projects because this has all become a second job. It’s a matter of prioritizing and relocating is a priority right now. I’ve lived in the same neighborhood for 14 years; the same house for 10. It is the longest I’ve ever lived anywhere in my adult life.

When I look back on my roots I can’t figure out where this wanderlust came from. I grew up in a small farming community in the Midwest. My mom (at age 88) has never lived farther than 10 miles from where she was born. That holds true for almost everyone I knew growing up. So why was I chomping at the bit to leave home at 19 and not look back? I still smile thinking about my late Dad – he was sure I’d “come home” eventually. When I went thru my divorce at 35 and started my single life with two teenage boys he was really sure I’d “come home.” Nope. At 46 I did come home for three weeks when he was dying in hospice. But at the end of that saga I couldn’t wait to hit the road and return to my adopted home.

I’ve lived in (or at least near) the mountains and loved them for a long time. Someday before this journey ends I will live by the sea. I have to. Or I will consider it an unfinished life.

But until then I just need to find a house in my hands down favorite first choice neighborhood. And I will; I’m sure of it. Because 14 years is far too long to be in one place. I’m opening my mind and my heart and keeping my eyes wide open for any flying bricks coming my way.

The Extraordinary Art of Just "Being"

Unless I’m planning to live to 104, more than half my life is over. I’m not being a downer; it’s just a fact. But it does give one pause… And maybe that’s why occasionally waking up at 4:30 am isn’t so bad. Some days I like to pack more in than others. Some days I relish starting the day snuggled under the down comforter, peeking out at the black as the snow drifts down and playing with words or images on this magic little machine called a laptop. It’s the best of both worlds ~ being awake and creatively producing, but never having to leave the comfort of the comforter. Working in ‘jammies was always a goal in my life and to have actually seen that come to fruition is, indeed, rewarding. Add in a snoring cat or dog curled up next to me and I’m one happy camper.

I’ve heard talk here and there lately (in the media mostly) about “Life Lists” – things people want to do before they die. I compiled lists like that for years, most often in the Januarys of my life. In the beginning they were called “new year’s resolutions;” now, if I do them at all I coin them as “goals” or more likely “dreams.” I think I stopped making those lists because I felt like such a failure if I didn’t fulfill them. And sometimes they just got boring because I had the same things listed every year… “lose weight; exercise more; quit smoking” – well, two out of three ain’t bad.

Age can be eye-opening. My way of thinking now is: if I didn’t complete something on my [life] list perhaps I didn’t really want to do it. Or I was just too lazy to follow thru. And I’m not a loser because I didn’t. Ask anyone who really knows me and they will confirm the fact that over the years I have been the Queen of Brow-beating, my own Worst Enemy, The Mistress of Self Deprecation. So to make a list every year which would just seem to reinforce the fact that I’m a loser eventually lost its charm.

I do sometimes think at the end of the day ~ what the hell did I do all day? But I am finally allowing myself to have days like that. Days when I’ve just had fun playing – or doing nothing. It took me a long time to give myself permission to have days like that. On other days (and I really try not to have too many of these) I do feel a sense of time running out – and there’s so much to be seen and done before I say goodbye.

But for now I’ll linger just a bit longer in the warmth of my blankets, savor the quiet as I gaze out at winter’s ballet and be grateful for slowly unfolding days like this.

I've Got a New Attitude!

[Let me preface this posting w/a warning. It’s a long one. I’ve wanted to write this for a few days now and haven’t had time; but it’s a hypothesis I’m very excited about. So grab a cup of coffee or a glass of vino (depending on the time of day you’re reading), put your feet up and sit back. Here we go…]

I don’t really believe in horoscopes, but I do have them pop up on my home page every day. I read them for fun. They are almost always quite broad in scope and could definitely apply to anyone’s day. I rank their viability right up there w/fortune cookies; but I do enjoy a good cookie. About a month ago my morning prediction made me stop and read it twice. I even printed it out (and, of course, in the mess that is my desk I can’t find it now.) It read something like, “keep an open mind; someone is going to come into your life/or present you with an idea that could hold promise of positive change.” Or something to that effect. What I do remember is that it impacted me enough to actually print it out for later review.

About three days after the intriguing words from the world of predictions, I was having a conversation with a dear friend. She was excited about the possibility of something good happening that seemed to just have appeared in her life out of nowhere. I remarked on what a coincidence it was that this was happening. She said, “No. No coincidence. It’s because I’ve invited this into my life now. It’s the ol’ ‘law of attraction.’ Because this is something I really want, I have attracted it to me by thinking about it and thinking positively and being aware when the opportunity presented itself.”

Bells went off in my head. Fireworks exploded in front of my eyes. I just stared at her like a deer caught in the headlights. She looked at me. “What?” I told her about my horoscope. She told me about a book she’s reading about just that very thing – “the law of attraction.” I was so intrigued I asked if I could borrow it; she was still reading it so offered me its predecessor. She warned me that it’s a little strange in the beginning, but stick with it – the message is good.

So, if you follow my blog you know I’m not exactly a speed-reader. And, yes, the beginning was a little strange, so it’s taking me awhile to get thru this book. And it’s deep; so I’m (of course) taking my time with it. But the message is good and positive and I do think I’m getting something out of it. So I’m reading a few pages a day and keeping this theory in the back of my mind as I go about my daily routine.

As part of that daily routine, 4:00 is kind of my “take a break” time of day. I tune into our local CBS affiliate to see if Oprah has anything interesting to say. If she does, I’ll actually stop what I’m doing and watch. If it’s mildly entertaining I’ll keep working and have her in the background. Lately I’ve been interested in what she presents. Well, the other day I hear the tease and it’s all about “The Secret.” “Do you know the secret to a happy life? Tune in!”

I’ll try to make this brief… I tune in at 4:00 and who do I see sitting next to Oprah, but Jack Canfield. I’m sure you’ve heard of the “Chicken Soup for the Soul” series of books. Jack Canfield, with his partner Mark Hansen, had the idea for the books and after many, many rejections finally published the first one and – well, the rest is history. Several years ago I attended a seminar held by Jack and Mark and had the pleasure of meeting them. They signed my books and we chatted a bit. I told Jack I write a bit and he invited me to send him “my stuff.” It took a few weeks to muster the courage, but I finally sent him some “stuff.” A couple of weeks later I received a hand-written note from Jack (it’s in a box somewhere and I’m going to search for it!). He said something to the effect of, “I really enjoyed reading your stuff. Keep going! You’ll find a publisher!” Of course I never really pursued it, but I was thrilled that he had responded so positively.

So, that’s my background with Jack. Now I see him sitting next to Oprah with a panel of four other people. And the subject of the show “The Secret” is a DVD film they have put together all about “the laws of attraction.” OMG. The message seems so simplistic, but how many of us actually put it into practice? To think positively in every situation, to put that positive energy into action (translation – work hard); and most of all, to be grateful. Be grateful for everything in your life, every situation, every person, every blessing. Even when things seem to be going badly, stop and ask yourself, “What am I supposed to learn from this?”

And as if it weren’t enough to once again hear “the law of attraction” and to see Jack Canfield and learn about “The Secret” – one of the women in the DVD is one of the authors of the book I was loaned. (BTW – the book is “Ask and It Is Given” by Esther and Jerry Hicks.) Enough common threads to make me sit up and take notice for sure. I do believe the Universe has gone beyond tapping me on the shoulder and whispering in my ear. It is now throwing bricks at my head.

And now (I promise I’ll wrap this up shortly) I’ve had the opportunity to apply this to my own life. We’ve done some intense house-hunting in the last two days. Last year at this time we were concentrating on a neighborhood which is hands down our favorite and first choice. We discovered it was a little more than the average person (and we’re average people) could afford. So we shifted our dreams back into reality and this year began looking in two other neighborhoods which we felt could work. After looking in both of them this week and not finding anything that would fit our bill, I felt myself becoming frustrated and very disappointed. But before I could spiral completely down I stopped myself and thought “What is the reason we’re not finding anything?” I said out loud to the mister, “Maybe we’re not supposed to be there.” I had to repeat it a couple of times and I started believing it. He agreed and suggested another neighborhood we hadn’t checked in a long time. I perked up.

When we arrived home, I went online to begin the search for the neighborhood he had suggested. Guess what popped up the first time out? A home in our hands down favorite and first choice neighborhood – the one we had deemed out of reach a year ago. Even stranger – it’s in our price range and seems to have all the amenities we’re looking for. Not the least of which is being located in our hands down favorite and first choice neighborhood. We’re taking a drive later… It may not be “the” home, but it has opened our minds up to the possibilities that maybe there is still a chance to be where we really wanted to be in the first place.

So, as Patti LaBelle would say -- I’ve got a new attitude. And at the very least – staying positive makes for a much happier life. I’ve got nothing to lose and everything to gain.

Open yourself to the Universe and the Universe will open up to you. Even if it has to throw a few bricks in your direction to get your attention.

A New Day

Well, I did it. Four and half hours later I have no ducks waddling around the top of my living room walls. Once I got started and got a rhythm going it really wasn’t that hard. And I must say that with each section that came off my sense of satisfaction grew. I really hadn’t intended to do it all in one day, but as I grew closer to the end I would tell myself, “just one more” as if I was eating potato chips (or more likely in my case truffles). Before I knew it I was done. The room looks cleaner and even a little larger. So now I’m definitely inspired to bang out the dining room border – it’s much smaller.

I truly had forgotten how satisfying it is to take on a task I knew nothing about, see it thru to fruition and see it well done at that. Factor in that I thrive on change and I haven’t made any changes to my environment in a long time – I do believe I’ve been in a rut in that respect. And ironically just as I was finishing up yesterday and sat down for the first time all day, what’s the subject of Oprah’s Wednesday show? How your environment [your home] affects your life and your well-being. The timing couldn’t have been better. It dealt a lot with clutter in your home and how that clutters your mind and your mood and your effectiveness as a human being. I’ve known that for a long time and at times it really has inspired me to de-clutter. But I have never done it to the point of it being life changing. That’s because I always quit before the clutter was completely gone.

I feel inspired now, though, to really follow thru. To really rid myself – and my home – of things I don’t need. They are just things! I realize I do spend a lot of energy dreading, thinking about, procrastinating about getting the clutter out of my life. I want to spend my energy on things that will lift me up, not drag me down. And in that respect I realize, too, that I think I’ve been in a rut. I’ve been carrying the weight of this clutter on my shoulders and in my head for years! (Yes, that can be interpreted metaphorically, too.) And I am SO ready for a new and fresh perspective!

It just makes so much sense. If your environment is free, your spirit will be as well. Housecleaning translates to head-cleaning. It’s time. It’s finally time. I finally see that doing this is not a burden, it’s not a chore, it’s nothing to feel resentful about – it’s a gift to myself.

The sun is peeking over the horizon and I am ready for the day to begin. Because I’m one step closer to being free.

Today is Tomorrow

So for all my talk about living life fully and being content with what I have and not wanting more… well, I really do want that new house. It’s been a long time, long term goal of ours and it is finally within reach. I just wish I had someone to take down the wallpaper, clean up the clutter and paint the walls for me. O, and pack the kitchen and the china cabinet and the closets when the time comes. But, alas, it falls to me. And, being the Master Procrastinator that I am, it’s so easy to do my best Scarlett imitation and declare, “I’ll worry about that tomorrow…” (back of my hand on my brow)

Well, sooner or later (and it’s usually sooner) tomorrow comes and I don’t like being caught unprepared. Unlike someone in my family, I don’t work well under pressure. I really wasn’t one of those kids who put off homework till Sunday night. But I did wait till Sunday afternoon. And thus began my dread of Sundays which carried well into my adult life.

I don’t want to live my days over the next few very busy months as one eternal Sunday. Discipline, as much as I need it now, is escaping me. And that old resentment is rearing its ugly head. But before I travel too far down that road I have to stop the car. That kind of thinking will get me nowhere but in the ditch, frustrated and anxious. Because, as a very wise man once told me and it will always hold true: “What is… is.” Such wisdom in three little words. Kind of like a Reader's Digest version of the Serenity Prayer.

So, what I need to do is find a way to find joy and fulfillment in the tasks (no matter how mundane) that lie ahead. Keep my eye on the prize, so to speak; I will have my new house at the end of the day. (I wish it was today, but I have to earn it.) And find satisfaction every step of the way in knowing that I did it!

That’s the ticket. And now I’m off to Target. Just kidding. I’m off to the living room to start soaking a wallpaper border. And for every section that peels (or pulls) off the wall, I’ll celebrate my accomplishments with great pride.

And a glass of wine at 5:30. *wink*

Free Spirit

I had good intentions this morning – well, intentions anyway – of beginning the task of peeling wallpaper borders off the dining and living room walls. They’re stuck on there pretty well. They’ve been up for about 7 years (although it seems like I just put them up and painted the walls green). Even if we weren’t planning to put the house on the market soon, I would be taking them down. I’m over the whole Eddie Bauer décor – ducks and bears and pinecones. I love art deco and retro styles, but that probably would be a bit over the top (even for me). So, don’t know how the next house will be decorated, but I do know it’ll be fresh and new. I have a feeling the influence may come from beaches I love so much…

But for now I have to revamp the old and make it insipidly neutral. I don’t have to, but I’m work off the advice of a wise former realtor as to various ways to make a house sell quickly. One of the standards (typically) is – don’t assume everyone (or anyone) looking at your house will have your tastes. Not everyone adores color like I do. And (typically) off-white/neutral rooms appear larger.

So, anyhoo, I know I have my work cut out for me (and that doesn’t count cleaning the basement) – especially if we want to make this happen in the next few months (which I certainly do).

So, of course, I have spent the day doing a series of still photo shoots (which have been well received and I forgot how much I enjoy doing them – change of pace, I guess). Downloading, minimal tweaking, some flickr uploads, more shooting, trying to get my damn Epson to print (grrrr), eating the mini cupcake I was using for the shoot, perusing blogs and my flickr contacts photostreams, writing a couple of thank you notes and now I’m writing this. Ellen’s on and Oprah will follow and then the Mr. and I may go out for a light dinner to catch up on the weekend as he was in Texas and I was here.

I think I need a deadline.

Boys and Girls

When I was about 27 and my little guys were 3 and 6 I wrote a little story about being the mother of boys. I entitled it something like “What Would I Do With a Girl Anyway??” I wrote about how much these little guys had taught me. I learned from them daily. One was an expert in dinosaur-ese and the other was fearless (and had the scars to prove it). I was their hero when I smushed (their word, not mine) a scorpion in the kitchen with a TV Guide. They thought that was very cool. They brought home baby turtles and “special” rocks and a tick or two that followed them in from the woods. They were raised on peanut butter sandwiches (no jelly) and spent their days chasing Ginger the dog up the mountain. Plaid flannel shirts and overalls and baseball caps were the uniform of the day. I pitched endless whiffle balls to them in the front yard (such as it was sitting on the side of a mountain…). The three of us planted a huge garden one year on the whiffle ball field and we ate peas fresh off the vine. Over the years I sat on the sidelines and cheered on more Little League games than I can count.

I was quite content living in the rough and tumble world of little boys. I really didn’t know what I would do with a girl.

Life is funny, though. Little boys grow up to be men and with that comes love. Now I find myself with two girls. Two beautiful girls – inside and out. Two loving and giving and sweet souls.

And I didn’t know what I was missing. We go shopping and talk about fashion. We go to lunch and split a salad because we can’t eat the whole thing. We laugh and roll our eyes over men. We have slumber parties and talk into the wee hours, solving the world’s problems (but mostly talking about fashion and celebrities and shopping and diets and men). *wink* We talk about art and flowers and beaches we've seen. We even got tattoos together.

The best part? Seeing how happy they make my boys. Seeing how their lives are complete now. Seeing how they truly have found their missing piece – their other half. And knowing that when I’m gone, a mother’s love will continue thru them…

My work is done. The torch has been passed.

Hot Chocolate Thoughts on a -16 Degree Morning

As I stood over the stove stirring the peppermint chocolate shavings into the warming milk early on this -16 degree morning, I wondered… if I knew I had three months to live what would I do? What would be the most important things to do, see, accomplish?

An interesting phenomena I’ve experienced lately… when I free my mind of worries and schedules thoughts like that blossom in my head. I know mortality is not a new concept, but it is the first time in my life I’ve ever really considered it on a personal level – what would I do if I knew the clock was ticking? Besides being devastated knowing that I would be leaving those I love and not being able to participate in their lives any longer, where would my thoughts take me? Would I change my life? Would I suddenly take to jumping out of airplanes and climbing all the fourteeners in Colorado? Would I regret I hadn’t done more with my life – been more accomplished?

If I knew I had three months left, I don’t think I would do or feel any of those things. I think I would hold my husband's hand a little more tightly. I would say “I love you” more often. I would make the hugs I give my kids last about 30 seconds longer. I would take my dog to the park four times a week instead of once. I would engage in “kitty conversation” with my cat daily (she does love to “talk”). I’d call my Mom more than every ten days.

I would breathe more deeply; linger in the sunshine a bit longer. I wouldn’t worry about the boxes in the basement or the clutter in the closet. And those 10 pounds I’ve been trying to lose for the last five years? A non-problem. I would write more about my charmed life and the people in it and the funny and wondrous things that happen in everyday life. I would step out from behind the lens more often and just BE. And when I really think about it – the clock is ticking. None of us knows what the day will bring.

So I’m learning that little moments spent standing over a stove stirring peppermint chocolate shavings into warming milk on a -16 degree morning can be treasured. I don’t need to be recognized or accomplished or “leave my mark on the world.” All that matters is hands are meant to be held tightly and kids were meant to be hugged and love should be expressed.

A few years ago a friend shared the most wonderful piece of advice I’ve ever heard. When facing a big life decision, her priest told her, “Take time and think things thru. If you feel a sense of relief when you’ve made your decision, you know you’ve made the right decision.” Those words have carried me thru many a decision.

And so it seems to apply here. Not that I'm making a decision about my mortality; more, I'm making a decision about how to live my life. And I feel a sense of relief! I don’t have to be famous. I don’t have to be financially successful. I don’t have to be the best at everything I do. I don’t have to be somebody. I don't have to prove myself! I can simply BE. I can just breathe. I can smile. I can relax. I can love my family, my friends, my animals, my planet and do all I can to make life happy. That's all.

All I have to do is keep being me; but just a little bit more. I can do that. I do me pretty well.