Walking in a Winter Wonderland Again

This is my last walk in Minnesota. Tomorrow we drive to Milwaukee.

It's misty and cold today. I love it.

It's three miles around the lake. I want to try walking the entire way today but doubt we can make it. We started through the nearby woods but thought better of that because it looked a little treacherous. Falling in the snow is one thing, falling on the ice is another.

So we're on the safe walk. Earmuffs, hat, scarf over my nose and mouth. Gloved hands in my pockets but they're still tingling. I love it! It's so exciting I can hardly stand it.

Can't see to the far side of the lake. Can't even see too far ahead. We're talking about the North pole explorers and how it must have been to see nothing but a sea of white before them.

About 10 feet below us on the lake we see a cross country skier from time to time. Further out on the lake are two men next to a little hole. How can they even think about fishing?

I can't possibly even stand still.

But I love it.

Afterwards hot soup at Turtle Bread.

I've Learned My Lesson

About noon I couldn't find my wallet. It was missing from my purse.

Of course I retraced my steps from the last time I'd seen it. We decided that I had to have lost it in the restaurant last night while we were celebrating my birthday with friends. I'd put my purse on the floor under the big round table. The wallet must have fallen out.

Yes, I looked in the car.

My boyfriend called the restaurant. They would make a search but the restaurant was jammed and they couldn't crawl around under the table with eight diners seated there.

How serious was it? Lots of credit cards, money, insurance cards, gift cards, drivers license and I.D. (I have 2 more planes to board.) And here's the worst part. I wasn't carrying my copies of all of these things.

We headed to the car to drive to the restaurant to crawl under the table where the 8 diners were eating to look for the wallet - ourselves!

But when I opened the passenger's side door, out tumbled the wallet.

All of the cards are copied - and life is good again.



**

The Nutcracker

To my knowledge, there are no more tall department stores in Florida. Almost all of them are located in malls. Two-stories at the most.

Yesterday we took our walk in downtown Minneapolis. It was cold. Many of the tall buildings disappeared into the midst. We admired the architecture. We toured the new library (designed by Cesar Pelli.) We took the stairs.

Then we walked a few blocks to Macy's. We have Macy's in Florida. They bought out our wonderful Florida department store, Burdines, several years ago. Some of us still affectionately call it "Burdines."

The Macy's in downtown Minneapolis was once Dayton's. They were bought out by Marshall Fields. Marshall Fields was bought out by Macy's. My Boyfriend calls it "Dayton's."

It's one of those wonderful, old 12 story high department stores - with a bargain basement. The 12th floor has a famous restaurant called "The Oak Grill." They're known for their chicken pot pie.

At Christmas time, on the 8th floor, they have a presentation of what we, when I was a child, knew as the "windows." Remember the windows with the animated themes where we pressed our noses against the glass until somebody dragged us away?

But this is much more eleborate. It consists of 16 animated, lavishly decorated ROOMS. They tell a story. (They would make even Disney proud.)

They've done it every year since 1963 so we need to give Macy's props for keeping up the tradition. Last year was my first time. It was "Mary Poppins." Not the movie mind you, but the book.

This year we stood in line with loads of preschoolers to see "The Nutcracker." Well worth the wait.

I only wish my younger grandchildren could have been with us - especially the ones who missed out on seeing "The Nutcracker in Florida this year.



**

Concept vs. Reality

I know many children and adults who've never seen snow. Of course they know what it is. They've seen it on the news. But
they've never experienced it. It's a concept to them.

I've lived in Florida for 45 years. Twice it's "officially" snowed but it wasn't anything to write home about. Over the years I've visited snowy places - but haven't really had the time or the inclination to play.

Snow is more like a concept to me. Something I experienced as a child.

This morning I woke up in Minnesota. Snow is everywhere. My Boyfriend's back yard, the creek, other yards, are all one big snow covered wonderland.

We had a hearty breakfast, bundled up and drove to a close by park. We walked for miles. When we got home we played in the back yard. I've been excited all day.

Just like a little kid. I kept putting off going to the bathroom because I had on many, many layers of clothes.

For those of you who were impressed with my one little suitcase packing, it's mostly because I wore half my clothes up here on the plane.

Playing in the snow is one of the things I used to know in concept but now have experienced as reality.

Gifts

I've already received several Christmas gifts. Nothing big and fancy or expensive. Just loving.

Last night the husband of one of my Power Rangers threw her a surprise birthday party. It's hard to believe but she was truly surprised! Of course the logistics of getting her out of the house and others into the house - and then getting her back into the house - were daunting.

My take on it is that this was as much a gift for her friends as it was for her. Being in her home, surrounded by people I love was a wonderful birthday gift for ME. This is good because my birthday is coming right up.

There are lots of December babies. I don't know why.

My best gift so far is a card. I had my usual breakfast with my OLD friends yesterday. He's 87 years old, she's 88. They gave me a card. I waited until I got home to open it.

It's home made. They made it themselves. My picture is in the middle, surounded by felt poinsettias and angel stickers.

Gifts don't get much better than this.



**

Packing

I'm packing today for a 3 week trip that will include 10 stops. I'm not leaving until Sunday morning but tomorrow is another busy Christmas celebration day so I don't want to have to rush home to do it.

Besides I'm putting everything into a tiny suitcase that I can heft over other passengers' heads and slide into the overhead compartments on at least 3 planes.

And I'm going from weather in the 80s to weather in the zeros and everything in between so it takes a little thinking through.

I've heard more than one of my friends tell people "She's taking one pair of jeans and one pair of black pants!" - like I'm some sort of crazy bag lady trying to fit my stuff into a shopping cart.

But, actually, it's not just about the packing. It's about life.

These days I travel light.



**

Songs of the South

We have a big controversy going on right now in Florida. Our state song has been rejected for being racist. That's right, "Swanee River" (you may know it by it's real title which some people think fits us "Old Folks at Home") is being replaced.

We're down to 3 contenders for the new song. The guy in the lead is a New Zealander.

But parodies abound. They all deal with our faults.

And currents songs have been suggested like "Big Yellow Taxi" (They paved paradise and put up a parking lot.)



And, of course, there are those who want to retain "Old Folks at Home." They think only the pinko liberals are offended by the words. After all, we don't have any more slaves in Florida.


My favorite local columnist, Mike Thomas, wrote several sets of lyrics for alternative consideration this morning. Following are his titles:

To the tune of "I Shot the Sheriff" - I Bought the Condo

To the tune of "Leaving on a Jet Plane" - My Glock is Packed, I'm Ready to Go

To the tune of "She Loves Me" - I'm In Foreclosure, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah.

But my favorite was by another columnist, Scott Maxwell, written to the tune of "America the Beautiful"



Oh, hurricane-filled, cloudy skies,

O'er sinkhole-covered lots;

Where mice run free,

And we clear-cut trees;

Where elections we have botched.



Oh Florida, Oh Florida

You mean the world to me,

Where beaches have sea walls,

And lots of strip malls,

Ooph, I just hit a man-a-tee.



**

Bug Season

The holidays are here. That means lots of people are sick. Not me. I'm fine. My little B/P saga is under control and I'm looking forward to flying north in a few days for a glorious reunion with my BF.

But I'm also spending time with lots of other people including kids with running noses and adults with crazy coughs.

The little Viet Namese lady who did my nails today was sick as a dog. After all of that pampering I went straight to the restroom and scrubbed from the elbows down.

My 2 and 4 year old grand kids are coming over tonight. I can't wait. Tomorrow morning I'm visiting a man who's sick in bed with the stomach stuff.

Tomorrow afternoon I'm attending my favorite luncheon of the season - or any season. No telling how many germ factories will have had their hands in the buffet before it's over.

Christmas eve I'll be in church with hoards of little kids bouncing off the walls. My new 4 week old grand child is playing the baby Jesus. It's an acting stretch because she's a girl but I think she can pull it off.

Is all of this worth the risk of my getting a bug? Are you kidding me?

But I have started taking Airborne and doubling up on the V-C.



**

Houses

I love being in people's houses. Our living spaces tell so much about us.

I remember my grandparents' city house being big and beautiful. It wasn't big. Quite small really. But the yard was huge. And almost all of it was covered in flowers.

A writer/artist friend lives in a 300 sq. ft. space. It's charming.

One of my Power Rangers has lived in the same house for over 30 years. It's a "big family" house. The "go to" place. I laugh whenever I see her garage. Two cars can fit in but the walls are lined up solid with stuff. I'll bet she could live in the garage for a year and not run out of supplies.

My Boyfriend's daughter and family live in downtown Chicago in one of those tall, deep, skinny, one room wide-four stories high, brick houses. (Think the Cosby show.) I love it.

Another of my Power Rangers and her husband have recently downsized. They moved from a downtown house to my condo community - into the very same floor plan as my condo. Their place is lovely - but it looks very different from mine.

I've lived here for the past 12 years in a two-bedroom condo. I love where I live and don't think I would move even if I was fabulously well-to-do.

It's a good thing because I would be seriously breaking the 10th Commandment these days if I wasn't content in my place - since I've recently been in some fabu homes.

A younger friend told me yesterday that she wasn't going to any more holiday get-to-gathers because it was too hard on her to be in people's big houses when she didn't have one.

That's sad on so many levels.

It's also one of the reasons our country's in the mortgage mess.



**

Shopping Tips

I've been a party animal the last couple of weeks. Last night was my big annual Sunday school party. Lavish and fun.

After heavy Hors de oeuvres and heavy desserts we (about 45 of us) settled in for the gift exchange. It's one of those deals where, when your number is called, you pick your wrapped gift.

Everybody brings one. Everybody gets one.

The big hit last night was - well, I don't know what it was. I guess some sort of exercise gizmo. There were all sorts of suggestions as to what it was. Some a little off color.

Most of the gifts were useless but funny.

But I have some practical suggestions for your last minute shopping. I read about the following gifts in the flight catalogue while on my way home from Atlanta a few days ago.

• PERSONALIZED BRANDING IRON $89.95 plus shipping. Just think about your loved one serving the big standing rib roast on Christmas morning with her initials seared right on top. She'll be the envy of everybody. Or think about meatloaf for the kids. They're screaming and hungry but she says "Wait just a minute while I burn my initials into the side of this thing." I can't think of anybody who wouldn't be impressed. And the kids could find lots of other fun things (pets) to brand.

• BASKO THE SUMO WRESTLER Sculpture and Glass-Topped Table. $225.00 for the wrestler and $89.95 for the glass. This is a lovely nearly naked Sumo squatting beneath the clear glass. What's not to love.

**

Healing Memories

I was with a group a while back where we were asked to tell about the best Christmas gift we received as children.

I told about receiving some homemade paper dolls from one of my aunts. Back then people would sometimes make paper doll clothes from wallpaper samples. I know this sounds pathetic but much of my childhood was pathetic.

Years ago I worked in fund raising at a Children's Home. Most people don't know what this is. They think it's an orphanage. But there are very few orphanages in this country. Most every child has a mom or dad.

But there are lots of sad stories. This particular children's home is a good place where the children live in beautiful brick cottages with house parents, go to school, receive counselling, and, for the most part, live well.

But most children would still rather live with their parents, no matter how bad it is. One day I stopped by a cottage to chat with a houseparent. He showed me to the bedroom of one of the children. It was the day before Thanksgiving. The child's belongings were neatly piled on the bed because he was excited about his mom picking him up after school for a home visit.

But the houseparent told me that she'd just called. She wasn't coming. It was the 4th holiday in a row that she wouldn't be coming. The houseparent was dreading having to tell the child.

Later in the day I scared up some tickets to a theme park so that he and the other kids who didn't get picked up by family could have fun on Thanksgiving.

I learned a long time ago that one of the best ways to heal my childhood memories is to make good memories for other kids.


**

She's Still At It

Thirty years ago I met a woman here in this city who, like me, was trying to change the world.

She's still at it.

The other day she wrote an editorial for the paper about her work with kids. To be more specific, Muslim, Jewish and Christian kids. She's all about projects that help these kids work and play together.

She says, "We are teaching our kids from the three faiths that human kindness transcends everything."

Our kids have learned how similar they are, but more important, they are learning about the differences that exist among them...learning not to be fearful or suspicious of those differences, but to treat them with respect...

You would absolutely not believe the hateful, mean, scary replies she's received from this one editorial. And I'm ashamed to say that it looks like most of them have come from Christian men.

I don't know how she has kept her courage over these many years. Nor do I know how she has the stamina (at her age - which is my age) to carry on.

In 2006 she was Amnesty International's Human Rights Activist of the year.

Let's see. What was I doing last year?

Magical Night

My favorite museum has a large collection of Tiffany art work. Every Christmas, for one night only, they haul out Tiffany Christmas Windows and place them in the park - on my favorite street. It seems like a lot of trouble to me but I'm so happy they do it.

The windows are all back lit and breathtakingly beautiful. Right after dark the Bach Choir, in formal wear, tunes up for Christmas carols in the bandstand.

Father Christmas walks around and chats up people. He's different from Santa because he wears the LONG coat.

Hundreds, maybe thousands, of people show up with their blankets and lawn chairs. Some bring little tables with linen and stemware for a champagne picnic.

If you get bored with the Tiffany or choir you can step across the street (easy because traffic is blocked off) and shop at the beautiful shops. Or just enjoy the twinkle lights for as far as you can see.

This all happened last night. As my friends and I sat out on the street, next to the park, having a light supper we said in unison:

"It just doesn't get better than this."

Of course we all have family that we wish could experience this. I wish my Boyfriend could see it. But last night, for a little while, I was "in the moment" with people I love.


**

The Comback Kid

Yesterday morning I woke up feeling terrible, as I have for a while.

But since I'd been on new drugs from the cardiologist for 24 hours I began feeling better throughout the day. So by last night I was my old self.

And my blood pressure is FALLING. Whee!

Let's review what can happen to you if your B/P stays unusually high. Heart damage, stroke, kidney failure, dementia and other stuff.

Had a wonderful lunch with friends. When it started I was sick. When it ended I was well.

Then met with my Power Rangers in the afternoon. We had a deep conversation about ultimate things. I love and admire their individuality, wisdom, openness, goodness and spirituality. I felt energized when I left.

I felt back to pretending to be the most powerful woman in the world.

But on the way home a little old lady I know called and asked if I'd stop by because her car (Lexus) smelled really bad and she didn't know what to do. So I stopped to smell this person's luxury car. It was pretty bad but I couldn't find any dead animals in the undercarriage so I told her she'd best take it to the dealer.

So much for self importance. But I still feel good.

Slow is Beautiful

One of the things I used to consult about was"Time Management." To me it was never about being busy every minute of the day. It was always about living a "Balanced Life."

Creative people, especially, need time to think and dream. But we all need to take the time to figure out who we are. My body rhythms are not like yours. My mind is sharp in the morning and clicks off at about 7 PM.

I've read literally hundreds of articles on "Time Management." The vast majority of writers tell us to slow down but then spend half of the article bragging about how crazy busy they are.

Even my retired friends are in a tizzy most of the time. Way over committed. Sometimes when I ask "Why did you volunteer to do this?" the answer comes, "Because nobody else would do it."

My answer to that is always "So?"

Today when I was having lunch at Panera's and looking at my "People" magazine I counted how many diners (seated with other people) were on their cell phones. LOTS! If I have lunch with you, here's all I want - your undivided attention.

My friend and guru sent me these quotes a while back:

We carry whole worlds within us as we brush by each other in the supermarket to read mayonnaise jars - Mark Nepo

The more faithfully you listen to the voice within you, the better you will hear what is sounding outside. And only she who listens can speak. - Dag Hammerskjold

The two most radical things you can do in America are to slow down and talk to each other. - Mary Pipher



**

Dogs

I'm not really a dog person. They're OK but I like the saying:

You're never really free until the last kid leaves and the dog dies.

When I was a runner I had a couple of scary times with big mean dogs. I'm still afraid of them. But my very favorite dog weighed as much as I do. He belonged to my son in law and family for 14 years. A Golden Retriever, he was the sweetest dog I've ever seen. He died last year after declining health that lasted way too long.

A few months before my Real Husband died he said, I can't believe that dog is going to outlive me!

Spoiled dogs crack me up. I see lots of designer dogs, all decked out, at the Farmer's Market every Saturday.

My brother and sister in law have two little, tiny white dogs. One is a psychopath. A couple of years ago my niece wrote to tell me that she was worried because her folks were "dressing the dogs." As it turns out, it was just dog sweaters - but my brother did buy one of the dogs a tiara when he visited me a few years ago. He bought his wife oranges.

Regarding spoiling dogs, how far is too far?

I read an article in my paper last week about doggie implants for those unfortunate males who've been neutered.

While neuticles - testicular implants for dogs - are strickly cosmetic, they're said to boost a pet's self-esteem by replacing what was lost.

I'm not making this up.

Predictions

I heard the first Advent sermon this morning on "Preparing." It was to remind us that we need to prepare for things we know are going to happen but we don't know when.

There are always people around predicting when stuff will happen. They're almost always wrong.

Another hurricane season is behind us. Despite dire predictions, Florida has been relatively hurricane free for the last three years.

One of our big hotel tycoons threatened to sue the National Weather Service over the predictions. Bad for business.

Not unlike predicting the stock market, predicting hurricanes is tricky. This past year one of our local columnist did his own study.

His panel consisted of:

• Meteorologist and Hurricane Expert William Gray (who has traditionally scared the bejeebers out of us)
• A monkey from the local zoo
• His 4 year old son
• Himself

As there were several categories the results were mixed. But they were all consistently wrong.

I guess the lesson from the columnist and the minister are the same. We know some things are going to happen but we don't know when. So let's try to be ready all the time.

***

But Are They Worthy ENOUGH!

This morning at the Christmas Parade I talked with an acquaintance who complained to me about delivering a turkey dinner last week to people she didn't feel were "worthy enough" to receive it. It didn't give her the warm, fuzzy feeling she was after.

Many years ago my Real Husband was the executive director of an urban ministry in Fort Lauderdale. There were all kinds of programs to get involved with: literacy, building projects, systemic community change, hunger and lots more.

We were always scrambling for volunteers.

Except at holiday time. This time of year people are so loving and generous. Back then we had a group of several hundred business men and women who delivered turkey dinners and gifts to needy families.

We always had loads of food donated so it was a fun experience. Except there were always a few (thankfully, very few) delivery people who were disappointed. The receiving families just didn't look needy enough to them. Sometimes they lived in pretty nice houses. Sometimes the kids had - not only a tree - but presents under the tree!

We were always nice to these business people. But we usually invited them to come back in January and they would see the kind of poverty they were after. Most everybody gets fed on Thanksgiving and Christmas.

But there are 363 other days of the year.


***

Am I Having a Stroke or Just in Love?

The B/P drama continues. First a recap.

Sunday I became ill and had a B/P of 203/92. After two days of tests in the hospital I was thrown out due to good health.

Wednesday I felt ill and was sent to Urgent Care with a B/P of 197/92. Had to stay there a few hours to get it down but I did talk with my friend/handyman who was painting my bathroom. He asked me to stop for more paint on the way home.

Friday I finally got in to see my Internist. (B/P 178/94) She switched my meds to a beta blocker to tide me over until I see the cardio guy on Tuesday. Took the first one in her office.

Today, after a restless night I drove to my favorite street to have 7:30 breakfast with my dear old friends. At 9:00 A.M. the Christmas Parade started.

I walked up and down the street greeting old and new friends. I felt terrible and thought I might keel over or (worse) throw up but, oh well, probably 500 people would call 911. They were already on their cell phones.

How did I feel? Exhausted, dizzy, weak, short of breath.

After shopping I drove home thinking I'd take my blood pressure then head to Urgent Care again for another jump start.

But to my pleasant surprise, the meds were working and B/P was pretty good (150/66.)

Just looked up info on the beta blocker. Side effects are fatigue, dizziness, weakness, shortness of breath and trouble sleeping.

I still feel that way but I'm happy.



**

The Parish Nurse

At my church we have a parish nurse. About ten years ago I, along with some others, tried to get a parish nurse program into the church.

No dice. We have a fairly wealthy (but not me) church and people didn't think they needed a "nurse."

Then the hospital came to us with an offer we couldn't refuse. They paid the first year's salary.

Now, after a few years, there are still a few people who have no idea what a Parish Nurse is. But lots of others think she's a saint.

"Parish Nurse" is not a good title because it sounds like a little old lady who takes your blood pressure.

Our parish nurse is an executive. She provides tremendous learning opportunities and wellness programs. One of my favorite classes is called "Fitness for Life."

When my Real Husband was ill I thought I was really on top of things. But sometimes I couldn't get the equipment we needed because it was so expensive - and insurance wouldn't pay. I would call her and she'd say "Tell the doctor to write the prescription exactly like this." I would and insurance paid.

But she also takes blood pressure readings.

On Sunday morning she's the one who got me headed to the hospital.

Yesterday I was in a meeting and feeling woozy. I went to her office. She took my B/P and sent me directly to Urgent Care where I spent a few hours.

She's spent lots of time talking me through all of the steps I need to take to get squared away.

She acknowledges that I'm The Strongest Woman in the World but she just called to see how I'm doing.




**

Fur Is For Animals

My niece whom I love, respect and is my blogging mentor, just wrote a blog about her many fur coats.

I don't wear fur. Let me put this another way, I wouldn't be caught dead in a fur coat - so after I die don't try putting me in one for the viewing.

A while back my Boyfriend and I were in having fun in Ketchikan, Alaska. We strolled into a big downtown fur shop. More furs than I'd ever seen. Many little minks gave their lives for this store.

My Boyfriend began telling me about a fur coat he once bought his wife. (We talk a lot about our spouses - all positive.) Since we were the only people in this big place the sales guy was hovering around us listening to our every word.

Finally he became so aggressive that I'm ashamed to say that I had a little fun with him. I tried on a $10,000 coat, swirled around and said in a whisper,

He bought one for his wife so he'd better buy one for me.

Of course, we left the store soon after. Even if I wore fur it would be a waste where I live. The daytime temp rarely drops below 70 degrees.

All Drugged Up

I just spent 2 days in the hospital because my B/P went kafluey again. I though maybe I was having a stroke but after all the testing they essentially said,

Get out of here. We need your bed for somebody who's, you know, sick.

One the one hand, it's nice to know that my health is practically perfect. On the other, I have a problem that just won't get fixed.

I'm now looking for a cardiologist who doesn't think a spiking blood pressure is boring.

I went back to the hospital this morning to buy a copy of my patient records at one dollar per page. You would think it wouldn't be much for two days of testing but it set me back the price of dinner and a movie.

And it wasn't very interesting reading. What do you make of this phrase?

A female of moderate development

Is that an insult?

No Movie for Old Women

My friends and I saw "No Country for Old Men" last night. It might surprise you that we would even see this movie but I like irony. And the Coens are all about irony.

By the way, as a little aside, I heard that the Josh Brolin part was offered to him by mistake. They thought they were offering the part to his dad, James Brolin (Babs' husband.) It makes sense because (as the title states) it deals with the inability of old people to handle the violence of life. While we learn that Josh Brolin was a retired Viet Nam vet and oil digger, he just doesn't look the part.

I loved "Fargo." This movie is a lot like "Fargo." It begins with a crime gone wrong. To me the violence is tongue in cheek. Like the guy in the wood chipper in "Fargo."

Early on in "No Country for Old Men" when the sheriff and deputy come upon a scene of exceptional carnage - bodies everywhere - the deputy points to two bodies in suits and says, in his Texas twang, something like "These guys look managerial."

There isn't much dialogue but if you listen closely, you'll hear some funny stuff. The mother in law is hysterical. As are all of the desk clerks.

But here's what I think the movie is about: Evil. We all have it in us but the bad guy in this movie is pure evil.

Josh Brolin did some bad stuff but his big mistake was having compassion for a dying man early on.

I hated the ending. Evil wins. Even after two hours (and you know my limit is one and a half) and the screen went dark I looked at my friend and said "Is this the intermission?"

Listen to the sheriff's speech toward the end when he's telling his wife about his dream. That's about all the satisfaction you're going to get.

Listen up Coen Brothers, people, even old women, don't like to leave unsatisfied.

Breaking Up is Hard to Do

Lately a couple of people have asked me how I come up with ideas. I don't know. They just come.

I invited some close friends of my Boyfriend to visit us when he's here this winter. She just wrote to thank me but said they wouldn't be able to make it this time.

In writing her back, my first inclination was to say "Come anytime."

You're welcome here even if my Boyfriend and I should break up and he sends my stuff back to me in a cardboard box and I put his stuff in a cardboard box and set fire to it in the living room.

But that would be silly. Because at our age probably the only reason we would break up is because one of us totally loses our marbles or dies.

And it would be silly because saying the above would make no sense to her.

But it makes sense to you, doesn't it?

I'm Thankful I Don't Have to Shop Tomorrow

Everybody loves to shop. That's everybody except me. I do not like to shop! But even those of you who do will have to admit that the Friday After Thanksgiving shopping day (Black Friday) is getting out of hand.

The mall that's 5 minutes from my house will open at 1:00 A.M. in the morning - serving coffee and donuts. They're calling it "Rockin Shoppin Eve." Can you imagine all those crazed shoppers loaded with sugar and caffeine?

So if you're planning to leave the house and 5:00 A.M. tomorrow, forget it. You're a slacker.

A couple of weeks ago a new IKEA store opened in my city. People began lining up two and a half DAYS prior to the opening. A reporter who, himself, had not heard of an IKEA store a week prior to this event, interviewed some of those in line. A few of them STILL didn't know what it was.

A couple of years ago my eye doctor moved his office into a super Wal-Mart. The first time there (and my first time ever in a super Wal-Mart) I was almost hyperventilating before reaching his office. I had to pass a McDonald's, a bank, a hair salon and a financial planner - all inside the Wal-Mart!

I have an eye appointment on Monday morning. Afterwards, I'm not leaving the big Wal-Mart until I buy every single item I think I might need to prepare for the holidays.

Then I can relax.

Thanksgiving

Today is Turkey Day and I'm feeling so very thankful.

Last night I had dinner with some of my cool friends. We kept them up late because nobody wanted to leave.

This morning I went to church to see if I could help prepare dinner for the homeless families that have been invited. But my help wasn't needed. There were almost as many volunteers as place settings at the tables. And lovely tables they were, laden with linens, silverware and harvest centerpieces.

So I left my pies and went for a walk on the most beautiful avenue in the world until time for the worship service to start at 10 A.M.

Last week when I returned home from my trip I learned that a man, whom I (and half the people in my city) love and respect - had a heart attack. He's much younger than me. He's a doctor and his nurse diagnosed the heart attack, called 911 and he was in the E.R. lickity split. He received a stint and went home a few days ago.

He was in the worship service this morning and helped the minister serve communion.

After conversations with him and other friends I headed for my son's home where I played with his two pre school daughters for a while. They're hysterical. One had on a Bell costume and the other, well I don't know. I can't keep those Disney princesses straight.

When I got home I had an ooy gooy voice mail from my Boyfriend.

And it's only 1 PM!!

A family Thanksgiving dinner still awaits. I heard on the radio that we'll be having turducken. That's a chicken stuffed inside a duck stuffed inside a turkey.

My minister told a story this morning about Rudyard Kipling. I've heard it before so it must be true.

When Kipling was in his prime as a writer in 18th century England he was said to earn 28 shillings per word. Some college students sent him 28 shillings and asked that he send them his best word.

A while later, and to their surprise, they received a telegram from Rudyard Kipling. It contained one word.

"Thanks."

Take a Feminist to Lunch

The Chicago Tribune recently published an article quoting a study that concludes that feminists make better partners and have stronger romantic relationships.

Many years ago I proudly called myself a feminist. Today I wouldn't confine myself to that label - or any label.

But I do have an opinion. I do have a point of view. I do hope that women around the world will continue to come into their own as human beings.

While I've lived a life of sacrifice, it was my choosing. And it will continue to be my choosing - Not yours!

I'll have to say that my Real Husband found me fascinating. He thought I could do anything. So does my Boyfriend. Much of our relationship is based on mutual respect. I'm fortunate that my Boyfriend's wife was a strong, beautiful woman, as is his daughter.

So he has a sense of humor about having to negotiate. Everything.

Natural Born Caregivers

My sister in law and my niece are Natural Born Caregivers. My niece, a professional writer, would never admit to it - but she is. Just like her mom!

She has an hysterically funny blog called "Living With the Oldies." It's about taking her elderly, dying in laws into her home. But, guess what?, they got better and now spend their time driving her and her husband crazy.

But my niece has chosen to care for them. There's great POWER in choosing.

But it doesn't make it easy. Today's paper has an article about the cost in $$ of care giving.

Family members responsible for ailing loved ones provide not only "hands-on" care but often reach into their own pockets to pay for many other expenses of care recipients, including groceries, household good, drugs, medical co-payments and transportation.

OK, they forgot to mention the cost of:

• Falling down and bashing into walls, lamps, vases, etc.


• Ordering things over the telephone. (After three years I'm now down to only 48 bottles of liquid soap.)


• Throwing telephones, remotes, eyeglasses, etc. in the trash.

I could go on and on - but you get the picture. The yearly expense the article gave was between $5,000 and $8,000 per year. I'd call that a drop in the bucket.

But the worst is the toll it takes on the caregiver. Most in home caregivers die before the patient.

By the way, I'm a reformed Natural Born Caregiver.

My New Cell Phone

My cell phone died yesterday. It was only four years old.

The first thought somebody my age has is to get it fixed. But I'm no longer naive enough to think this is an option.

A couple of years ago my 37 year old juicer quit. I have warm, fuzzy feelings about it so I got out my bright yellow tool kit, took it apart, cleaned up the insides, and put it back together. Bingo! It works great.

But I can't do that with the phone. Last night I searched the Internet for the best option for me. Today I visited my cell phone outlet. The guy wanted to sell me the latest thing.

It's probably been out about 10 minutes!

But I had my ducks in a row. For 10 years my plan has cost $19.95 per month. I knew I needed to upgrade so I now have the $29.95 plan for customers over 65. My new phone was free.

It does not have a camera but I've never felt the need to take a picture with my phone.

.

New Beginnings

When I was speaking before large groups I would often repeat one or both of the following truths:

• Everybody likes new beginnings.
• It's possible that the person you will love the most hasn't yet been born.

I just spent the last few days with one of the newest people on the planet - and her family.

Their livestyle is a bit different from mine (mainly faster) but I loved every minute I was with them. This new person is so fortunate to be born into this family - at this time in history.

How do you feel about babies being born today? A couple of weeks ago I was in a meeting with a man I respect who let us all know that this is a terrible time for children to grow up.

Guess I might agree if the child is born in Liberty City or Bangladesh. But even children born in hard places can have good lives if they're loved enough. And children born into wealthy cities, countries and families can have miserable lives.

Despite the billboards to the contrary, every child is not a blessing. I think the key is to truly want them.

I feel so profoundly grateful that this child is a blessing - and will be blessed her whole life.

She's perfect and mom is fine.

Let's Write a Book

About eight years ago I knew I was going to be stuck at home for a few months. My Real Husband was undergoing some medical procedures that prohibited him from being around crowds of people.

I needed to find something to do to keep my mind out of trouble.

I know, I'll write a book.

I decided that I wanted my book to be a personal love story about a couple who came to Florida 130 years ago. This required massive research. I loved doing it.

Loved discovering:

• What was going on right here on the exact spot where I live right now.
• How many of the little towns around me got their start. (My town was first called "Snow Station.")
• That Florida was as wild and woolly and had as many cattle and cowboys as Texas at one time.
• That Seminole Indians played a large part in Florida history.
• That Baptist and Methodist circuit riders and Catholic priests and nuns were in the forefront of settling Florida.
• How people lived. It was harsh, especially for women.

Most of all, it made me love my part of Florida. It's history is my history. My main characters, Cole and Catherine, had quite a ride.

During those months of writing I spent the day at the beach, swimming in the Atlantic Ocean. (One of my favorite things.) While I was bobbing up and down I began wondering what it would have been like to see the ocean from that exact spot a century ago.

So after I returned home I sent Cole and Catherine to the beach. They had to travel the first day by stagecoach. Then I had to get them across the Intercoastal Waterway.

What did I do with the book when it was finished? Not much. A few people have seen it. It needs massive editing.

But it doesn't matter. The joy was in the research and writing.

Things I Like to Look At

There is a book by Julia Cameron called "The Artist's Way." In it she's really high on "Morning Pages." Not just for writers but all who want to rediscover their creativity.

The last time I did the "Morning Pages" was in 2003. I did four pages every morning for six months. (she advocates more than that.)

This morning while I was all nervous waiting for my 10th grandchild to appear I looked at my "Morning Pages" journal.

On August 5, 2003, I wrote THINGS I LIKE TO LOOK AT. OK, I know this is reaching but YOU try writing morning pages every day.

Here's the list. I wrote fast - whatever came into my head. It's still true but I'd add more - like my Boyfriend's face.

• Beautiful old buildings


• Morgan Freeman


• My church


• My grandchildren


• All children


• Food that has been lovingly prepared


• An elegant table setting


• Snow scenes


• (My daughter) laughing


• The African American nurse in the dialysis center who's also a Pentecostal minister


• Ornate old hotel lobbies


• 42nd and Broadway


• My neighborhood


• Woodruff Place


• Brookside Park


• The Atlantic Ocean from New Smyrna Beach


• Park Ave


• The Statue of Liberty from a cruise ship

Contradictiion in Terms

Last night I attended a Hunger Banquet. "What's a hunger banquet?" you might ask. Yes, it sounds like a contradiction in terms.

When I stepped into the room I was escorted to one of three areas. In the middle were a few lavishly decorated tables with china, silver and elaborate flower centerpieces. At a larger area to the right were bare tables with paper plates and cups.

To the left was the largest area. No tables, no chairs. Just trash and garbage strewn all around on the bare floor. Most of the guests were escorted to that area. Me among them. We sat on the floor.

While we were within 10 feet of the rich diners we couldn't bother them because we were "guarded" by military men.

A large screen flashed world wide facts about hunger. The leaders did some cleaver things to further sensitize us.

After the rich group had finished their drinks and appetizers it was time for their main course. They were served first by fancy waiters.

The "bare table" group had to line up to serve themselves a simple meal.

We, the majority, were last. We got a small bowl of maze and a little cup of water. After we lined up a booming voice announced "Men at the head of the line. Women and children last." So we women fell back.

I'm glad I was in my group. I would have been so embarrassed to indulge myself in front of most of the people on this planet.

Changing Dynamics

I'm the biggest spoil sport when it comes to people having babies. I've been told that I take it way too seriously.

My daughter is having a baby today. My general feelings about people around the world having babies has nothing to do with the baby coming today.

This baby will have, by any standards you care to use, a magnificent upbringing.

The parents are "over the moon" about her momentary arrival.

I am as well - but I'll be so relieved when I get the word that "She's Perfect" and my daughter is fine too.

A few years ago these parents and I met in New York for a three day holiday. At that time they had one baby. It was winter. We walked the streets of New York, pushing the carriage in a light snow fall. We had lunch at Tavern on the Green then shared a carriage ride.

One night we put the baby to bed in their adjoining hotel room then the three of us crawled into the beds in my room and watched the hysterical Christopher Guest movie "Best in Show."

I remember being profoundly happy that night.

Today they will have their 4th baby - my 10th grandchild.

That particular New York experience will never happen again. But new ones will.

Writing My Way to an Authentic Life

Yesterday I attended a half day class taught by a good friend. He and I have teamed up from time to time but he taught this class with another writer.

The title was Writing Your Way to an Authentic Life.

As any writer will tell you, the absolutely worst thing about writing is - not being able to do it. "Writer's Block" is awful.

But for some reason my friend knows how to drag the words out of me. Not only that, but they're real.

He's one of the most open, feeling people I know. I guess it rubs off.

Here are a couple of things I scribbled down yesterday.

The couple of years prior to (my Real Husband's) death was so hard! Wondering everyday how long I could go on. But I did!

His death during hurricanes. Everybody in Florida was suffering.

Why did I renew my passport two weeks after he died? I had no trip planned.

(Boyfriend) showing up out of the blue.

I want my relationships with my family to be about that. Relationships! That's all I have to offer them. That's all they have to offer me.

I want to spend lots of time talking and listening to other people. I like hearing other people's stories. Sometimes hard to draw them out because people want to share their junk rather than the good stuff.

Reading back over the above and pages of other notes from yesterday I know what I want in the future. And I know I want to write about it.

Facts and Feelings

I met a wealthy friend on the street today who was all doom and gloom about our current fiscal situation. It was esentially the We're All Gonna Die! speech.

The facts are that the housing market is (temporarily) going down the tubes. My city was just listed as the #1 over priced housing market in the country. Our home prices are predicted to drop another 35%.

So come on down if you want a bargain.

The DOW is currently in free fall.

Oil prices are out of sight and gas is golden.

OK, first, why would we go into a depression every time the DOW drops? It's always come back up. The DOW is bipolar. It shoots up and down with the slightest provocation.

Those of us who can sit tight are fine. But I have great feeling for:

• People who have to sell a house through no fault of their own.
• People who have to retire when the market's down.
• Workers with long commutes, truckers, and other who have to fill up every day.
• Poor people. They always suffer the most when times are tough.

I am not anything close to rich. But some of the time I feel rich compared to people I know who have a lot more money than I do and are terrified of losing a little of it.

Have a good day!

Goodbye Boyfriend

I took him to the airport yesterday. Now he's 1,700 miles away in his own home. Tonight he'll celebrate his birthday with old friends.

We celebrated two nights ago with my friends - whom he really likes - but it's not the same.

Tonight he'll be with people he's known for 45 years. Friends who've shared his life. Forty years ago my Boyfriend designed a house for one of the couples. They're still in it.

Why didn't I go with him? I have things to do here. A new baby is coming. The best season of the year is coming.

He and I will both attend traditional parties that we've attended for years. But not with each other.

I have obligations that I take seriously. So does he.

We'll be together again in a few weeks. Until then we'll live our separate lives.

But it's not easy. I have no one to play cribbage with.

Another Review

I like movies. But I don't care for light comedies, car chases, animation or any movie focusing on sports. I don't care for long movies or plays. In my opinion, if the movie is over an hour and a half, the director needs to get over himself.

I want strong dialogue and strong, realistic stories.

So last night I was looking forward to seeing "American Gangster." Despite the fact that it's 2 hours and 38 minutes long!!!

This movie, staring two academy award winning actors, Denzel Washington (bad guy) and Russell Crowe (good guy) has received excellent ratings.

Cuba Gooding, Jr. had a very small roll. My Boyfriend and I disagreed about the direction in which his career is heading.

Although it was extremely painful to watch, "American Gangster" did a good job of portraying the horrendous drug problems in this country during the time of the Viet Nam war - propelled by the corruption of police forces and the inability of our armed forces in keeping the traffic flow in check.

I did not find this movie entertaining.

But my main beef is the casting of Denzel Washington - and the subsequent way he was depicted. The public sees him as strong, moral, good and handsome.

Better casting would have been for he and Russel Crowe to trade rolls but that probably wouldn't have worked since it's the true story of an African American gangster.

In the first scene we see Densel setting somebody on fire. His character was responsible for the suffering and deaths of THOUSANDS of people.

Yet he remained attractive. And at the end even heroic. This did not make sense to me.

As we were leaving the theater I said to my Boyfriend, it must be about midnight. But it was only 8:30.

Morbid Conversation

When my Boyfriend and I were walking our two miles this morning we somehow got on the subject of how it will affect us when we get old and all of our friends die.

By the way, that has not started happening to either of us yet!

I reminded him that when my Real Husband was going to a dialysis clinic every other day for 8 years, a third of the patients died each year.

How would it be if you were a high school student and a third of your classmates died each year?

Then my Boyfriend and I discussed resiliency and how you'd think that teenagers would have greater resiliency than 90 year olds - but it doesn't work that way.

Virtually all of our young men and women returning from Iraq are suffering from post traumatic stress syndrome and much of it is due to seeing their friends suffer and die.

My take on it is that part of our maturing process helps us to deal with this kind of loss. It's a natural part of life.

There's nothing "natural" about young people dying.

An Open Forum

I love my Sunday school class. 35 people were there yesterday. (Yes, I always count.)

We're a smart group. Some people call us "Eggheads." Some people have felt intimidated when asked to lead us. But the truth is, it's a very easy class to lead.

We usually have a combination of new and old members. Everyone is encouraged to speak. All views are honored. And, believe me, different views are expressed.

There is a man whom I highly respect who thinks that global warming is a hoax!

What?

The truth is that this class is easy to lead because smart people in a safe environment will open up.

It's always exciting when the truth emerges from the group.

I led the class for the month of October on the theme "Transitions." I learned a lot.

This month my close friend and favorite class leader (and that's saying a lot because we've got the best) is doing a series on:

"How Shall I Live, Knowing I Will Die?"

He's the same guy who had the heart attack a while back - but he's doing great now.

Yesterday he gave all thirty-five of us 3 x 5 cards and asked that we jot down as quickly as possible answers to the question "Who Am I?" Following are my answers:

WHO AM I?

• Mother


• Good friend


• Spiritual


• Writer


• (Boyfriend's) Soul Mate


• Grandmother


• Communicator


• Person who needs intellectual stimulation


• Lonely little girl


• Honest


• Open


• Strong


• Fragile

I was surprised at what I left out. Maybe the above really is what's most important to me.

A Good Christmas Gift

I'm a low tech person. But not as low tech as some. While I'm pretty much attached to my computer I would never dream of standing in line for the latest "whatever."

My Boyfriend has an extremely low tech friend. She's super smart, unmarried, no children and maybe a bit eccentric. She's newly retired after a brilliant career in which she successfully dodged computers and other technological wonders.

She's part of a large extended family so, like many families, they draw names for Christmas gifts. $250 is the ceiling.

A while back she drew her nephew's name. He wanted a Wii. She had no idea what that was. She called Target and a nice woman explained that they were not yet on the market and when they debuted the supply would be limited. Then the woman told her how to get one.

So, my Boyfriend's friend, on the appointed day, drove to Target at 4:00 A.M. in a pitch dark driving snow storm. She got out of her car, stood outside the door - and waited.

Soon, a young man in a dark hooded jacket tapped her on the shoulder.

No he didn't mug her. He gently explained that it wasn't necessary to line up just yet. She could wait an hour.

Back in the car she was wet and freezing so after the heater got going and warmed her up she fell fast asleep. A little after 5:00 A.M. there was a loud rapping on her window. After lowing it bit, another dark, shadowy young man told her it was time.

She spent the next several hours in line with young men at least 45 years her junior. One of them brought her a lawn chair, another brought her a blanket.

At one point a person emerged from Target with a bag of 200 numbers. She got number 7. Of course when the store finally opened the limited number of Wiis sold out in minutes.

Why did my boyfriend's friend do it? She did it for love. I hope her nephew appreciated it.

Why were the young men in line so kind? I don't know, but they were.

Interruptions

I'm a buttoned down person. I don't like to hurry so I'm usually ready well ahead of time for whatever is coming up.

But we know that life is full of interruptions.

Experts will tell us that the trick is to keep our priorities straight. But the thing is, the priorities can change in an instant.

You can be on the most important work project imaginable but when the babysitter calls saying your child has a high fever everything changes.

Of course the trick is to have ultimate priorities.

There's a story about Jesus when he's on his way to heal a little girl and gets stopped by a woman who asks to be healed.

He had to interrupt a healing for a healing.

In the 70s I had a surprise pregnancy that seriously interrupted my plans. Turned out to be one of the four or so best things that ever happened to me.

My Boyfriend and I have really cool plans for this weekend including seeing old friends and a special party.

My daughter in another city is having a baby any day now. If the baby comes this weekend and I hop on a plane - it will be one of the best interruptions of all.

The Last Hurricane

My Real Husband died in late 2004, at home, in a hurricane. It was the middle of three major hurricanes in a row that visited my city. Prior to that it had been over 30 years since this area had seen one.

The next year Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans. We were vicariously re- traumatized.

A week or so later I received a call. A family of five had fled New Orleans and was in our city. Would I coordinate helping them get on their feet?

They had nothing. Just prior to the hurricane they'd taken one of the children (with a high temperature) to the hospital. The doctors there told them to get out of town immediately. They ran home and packed an overnight bag. The five of them drove 100 miles to a motel to ride out the storm.

They never returned. Their home, their business and all of their belongings were gone. Their income was gone.

The only thing I can compare what happened to the people in New Orleans to, is being war refugees.

I interviewed this family. It was heartbreaking. They were staying with a friend it very tight quarters.

I got on the phone with my church friends. Within 48 HOURS we had a home (rent free for 3 months) and enough furniture and supplies for them to move in.

These wonderful friends, mostly from my Sunday school class, eventually furnished the whole house. Including linens, dishes, pot & pans, etc. Everything. And we let the family know that these things belonged to them. They could keep everything but the house.

They were overwhelmed. Working with this family was a joy. Mom found a job teaching. Dad was a barber. It took longer to get licensing issues squared away.

The children were enrolled in school. The little boy adjusted. The teenage girls were devastated and never did really get over it.

They cried themselves to sleep and begged their parents to let them go back, visit their neighborhood and go to the mall with their friends just one more time. But there was no neighborhood, no mall and no friends left to visit.

A few months later dad made a trip back to survey the damage. The girls asked to have one thing from their rooms. There was nothing. What was left of the house was awash in filth and bacteria.

Months later, when they were ready to rent their own home they moved into my friend's condo. He told me they were great tenants.

Yesterday I called my friend, the landlord, to check up on my New Orleans friends before giving them a call.

He said they were gone. They went back home to New Orleans to rebuild.

I wish you well, my New Orleans Family. You helped us heal from our own hurricane wounds just as we helped you.

Where Shall We Walk Today?

This morning my Boyfriend and I headed for the "Birds of Prey" sanctuary. This is a place kind of close to my house that cares for injured or sick raptors - birds with talons. These are owls, eagles, hawks, ospreys, kites, etc.

About seven years ago I got up one morning and looked out my front door to see a tiny fury rectangle huddled against the base of a tree. I wouldn't have known what it was except for two eyes as big as quarters staring back at me. A baby owl had fallen out of a great Live Oak.

I called "Birds of Prey." A woman arrived, scooped him up and put him in her pocket. I later learned that happens a lot.

Anyways, we had a great time walking through the grounds, looking at these magnificent birds, many close to extinction.

They're at the top of the food chain in their world so we can learn a lot from them since we're supposedly at the top of our food chain.

We were also reminded of the importance of wet lands in Florida. Why? Wet lands are the kidneys of Florida, filtering waste from our waters. I hope Florida doesn't ever have to go on dialysis.

If or when the birds recover enough they're released back into the wild. We didn't see that happening this morning but we did see a little video narrated by Ed Begley, Jr. (one of our best tree huggers) showing birds being released. They were thrown in to air by human beings. Quite moving.

We saw a little old owl that had been imprinted so he could never be released. But he looked happy.

I'm going to pretend that was my owl - the one that fell out of my tree.

What Do You Do All Day?

Most of my close friends are retired. Two of my Power Rangers are still at it, one is a professor at the university, another is a V.P. for a national group of professionals.

I don't know how they do it. I no longer have that kind of stamina.

Some of my working friends, mostly men, still say occasionally "How can you stand not working? What do you do all day?"

This weekend we were invited at sorta the last minute to go to dinner and see a play with close friends. What a nice evening!

Saturday morning we met my Fake Parents, as usual, at 7:45 A.M. for breakfast at a picturesque little restaurant on my favorite street of all the streets in the world. Afterwards we took our two mile walk by running errands in this beautiful little village.

This morning I taught a class, then attended church service, then lunch on with friends, then two laps around the lake.

Most every day involves two hours of reading, two hours on the computer, one hour exercising and one hour playing cribbage.

I still do the work I love. I just don't do it as often or for money so it's not stressful. It's a blessing.

Oh, and the lady who comes in to clean my house every week: That would be me.

Oh, and the person who oversees my finances: That would be me.

When somebody needs me I feel so good when I'm available and able to help out.

But sometimes I just sit and look out the window.

Life these days is more about BEING than DOING and I'm grateful.

Decision Making

My Boyfriend and I saw an excellent movie the other night. But I'm not recommending it to you because it's raw and you might be offended. It takes place in Boston's underbelly but could be about any large segment of people who live in all of our big cities. People we don't want to hang out with or even think much about.

The movie's called "Gone, Baby, Gone." A frivolous sounding title but the movie is anything but frivolous. It's about making decisions and then having to live with them.

It was directed and (screenplay) written by Ben Afleck who, in my eyes, has totally redeemed himself professionally with this movie.

Every adult character has to live with the decisions they've made. Were they "right" or "wrong?" Who knows.

A friend of mine called the other day, totally freaked out because her young teenage son had done something really stupid and they were scrambling to "fix" the situation.

For as long as I've known this couple they've been conservative Christian parents who's main parenting goal is to have their children "mind." The children must have respect for authority at all times.

My main parenting goal was to produce "decision making" adults. Learning to make decisions and then to live with that responsibility is a lot harder than doing what you're told.

Sometimes authority needs to be challenged but you need to pick your battles and accept the consequences.

My friend said, "I don't want them to make decisions, I want them to do what's right."

Some of the time I don't know what's right. I wish the world was black and white but I constantly find myself in some grey areas.

To me the movie, "Gone, Baby, Gone" is not so much about a kidnapped child as it is about adults making choices. Some clearly wrong, but others, I'm not sure.

Lillian's Son

I'm a huge fan of Jimmy Carter's. As far as I'm concerned, he's the bomb.

Although I shouldn't use the word bomb to describe him because he, like me, is a peacenik.

Do you remember years ago when his mom, Lillian, retired from being a nurse in a rural Georgia community? She could have done so many cool things since her son was a super star. But she signed up with the Peace Corps and spent two years in India.

The lesson that "there's always work to be done" wasn't lost on me.

Of course I didn't like waiting in those lines at the gas station in the 70s.

Most ex-presidents make a ton of money. This hasn't been Carter's goal. He used to make furniture in his workshop but since he made about one chair a year that wasn't real profitable.

Like many people, I've occasionally had difficulty articulating my beliefs - about my faith, social issues, government, etc. I don't like arguments and I don't like negative talk.

TELL ME WHAT YOU'RE FOR!

A couple of years ago I was getting ready for a long drive. A friend lent me Carter's book on tape, "Our Endangered Values." As he began talking I thought "That's exactly what I believe." Then I tried hard for the next eight hours to find something we disagreed on. It didn't happen.

When I got home I bought the book and read it carefully. We were together on every chapter. Trust me, this doesn't happen often.

Jimmy has a movie coming out. Oscar winning director Jonathan Demme made a documentary when Carter was publicizing his VERY controversial book on the middle east.

It's coming to main stream theaters. Look for it. You'll be a better person for seeing it whether you agree with him or not.

Ferris Wheel

A little over a mile from my home is a huge Catholic church and school. Every year they have a carnival. It's a big deal. For days we see the rides coming in on big flatbed trucks. At night you can see the lights from the Ferris wheel for blocks and blocks.

Unlike some carnivals, everything at this three day event always looks clean and new.

For 12 years, at this time of year, I've driven by the carnival at night and and wished I was there having fun. It never happened. I could have invited a friend or family member to go with me but I never did.

Besides, for many of those years, I would have either had to push a wheelchair or make complicated arrangements to get out of the house alone.

This past Saturday night my Boyfriend and I walked to the carnival at the Catholic church. It was jammed with people. Truly a mini version of a state fair midway.

We rode the Ferris wheel.

When we first met in Chicago two years ago, after several months of a daily pen pal relationship, one of the most romantic things we did was ride the giant Ferris wheel at the Navy Pier.

This one was smaller but it brought back great memories. And what a view we had!

We waited in a long line. It was fun watching people on the scarier rides. The young couple in front of us helped my Boyfriend take a picture of me with his camera.

Lots of yummy junk food all around. We shared a Dove Bar ice cream. Then we walked home in the warm rain.

Lower Your Blood Pressure

I've had a blood pressure problem for about four years. At first I was really mad because I used to be a runner and my B/P was always so low that it appeared that I was in a coma.

Then when I stopped running it shot up. It didn't seem to care that I was still exercising every day. Have I mentioned that I've weighed the same for my whole adult life? Approximately 113 lbs.

I fought taking meds for a few years but my doctor finally said, "You're old. Take the medicine."

But blood pressure meds are not simple. Most people have to experiment with several and end up on at least two different meds, as I am.

But it's still not where it should be. It spikes when I'm under stress.

They say that visualizing helps your B/P. That is to say, you can send it up or down according to what you're visualizing.

When I'm trying to get it down I visualize one of two things:

• God in some form (sometimes Jesus) carrying me to a quiet, tranquil place where I have absolutely no worries or cares

• Esther Williams diving into a lagoon and swimming backwards in sync with one of her dreamy swim partners like Fernando Lamas.

It works but I can't be thinking this way all the time.

Adrenalin Rush

My Boyfriend and I have been having some little dinner parties. We work well together. He has a sense of humor about my tiny kitchen and dining room.

Also my ability to be totally anal about details.

We've been looking forward to a time in the future when some special people would be coming for drinks and dinner. It's on the calendar.

But then a few days ago when we arrived home early in the evening there was a message on the phone.

Looking forward to seeing you tonight at 7:00 P.M.

What???

I'm not a spontaneous person. It took my brain a few minutes to process. But my boyfriend was great! We grabbed recipes, went to the store then flew around my condo getting things together.

It was fun.

One of my favorite ways of making my place look clean and bright is to turn on all the lights.

We had such a nice time that I hope they come back on the night we actually planned on having them.

Don't Worry Be Happy

We seem to be obsessed with being happy. Most of the self help books have been about making tons of money, losing weight or finding romance. These all promised to make us happy. Now a new book on "Happiness" itself seems appear almost daily.

So we're looking for happiness with things like shopping, having sex, eating the new 984 calorie breakfast sandwich from Hardee's, dieting, drugs, alcohol, marriage, divorce, extreme sports and chocolate.

When I was young I worried about everything. I was constantly on guard and afraid much of the time.

Reading great books, including the Bible, helped me see how to have a much more balanced life.

Have you ever read something that just jumped off the page at you? I have many times. Forty years ago I read Vicktor Frankl's book, "Man's Search for Meaning."

He wrote this: Happiness is a byproduct of helping others.

I could be surrounded by millions of people who love me and adore me, but unless I can become a source of giving, I'll never be happy.

A few years ago some friends and I decided to help a family that was living in absolute squalor. I remember one Saturday afternoon we were literally shoveling out garbage and scrubbing floors with a metal spatula.

A man dropped by to deliver some documents. He saw me on my hands and knees and said to me (in total disgust,) "There is no amount of money that would get me to do what you're doing."

I answered "Me either!"

The thing is that I remember being so HAPPY every day that my friends and I worked on that house.

Two Miles a Day

My Boyfriend and I are committed to walking two fast (for us) miles a day. It's fun to look for different places to walk like around lakes, through college campuses and, when it's too hot to walk outside, in malls.

Yesterday's newspaper featured a new sculpture display in a mall across town. So that's where we walked.

The title for the sculpture(s) was "Can - Do" because they were all constructed - by architects and engineers - from cans and bottles. Thousands and thousands of them.

"Saturday Can Fever" featured John Travolta crafted from cans of Bartlett pears with white labels that came together to resemble his white suit. Upside down Jello cups made up the shimmering disco floor.

"Operation Gumbo Drop" featured a "silver" airplane built from silver-labeled pea cans. The clouds were dozens of bags of marshmallows. All of the can goods used in this sculpture can be used for gumbo. I guess the marshmallows could be for dessert.

Another sculpture was a construction site featuring a bulldozer with "Bob the Builder" at the wheel.

Still another, a whale coming up from the ocean. The ocean consisted of hundreds of clear water bottles.

We were amazed!

We also were reminded of some disturbing stats. In our metropolitan area nearly 300,000 people go hungry every day. Almost half of them are kids and old people. A third of them have full time jobs.

To me this is shameful in a community with so much wealth and waste.

But at least when the sculptures are deconstructed the can goods will go to the hungry people.

I wonder where we'll walk today.

It Won't Last

Whenever my Real Husband and I took those marriage tests that appear in women's magazines from time to time - we always flunked. We were so different in so many ways.

But the marriage did last. We hung in there for 44 years until he took off for a much better place.

Now, for some inexplicable reason, I've been blessed with this new relationship. My Boyfriend and I are alike in so many ways and we really, really like each other. I even feel ooey gooey about him sometimes.

But it won't last.

We have a short window.

Things will happen.

But until then we'll enjoy every day that we're allowed to have together. All the while each of us keeping our little place on the planet clean. And treating each other and everybody else - as best we can - with love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self control.

When I was doing consulting work I would occasionally ask this question:

How many love affairs end in tragedy?

It's a trick question. The answer is: All of Them.

Body Image

My niece just wrote a blog about body image. She's still at the age and stage of life where I'm sure the competition is keen to try to stay "perfect."

My close friends and I have beautiful bodies. Some of them may not think this about themselves - but I do. I can close my eyes and describe each one. They're all different. They have different shapes and dress in different styles.

I'm happy with my body. I'm grateful that all of the parts still work. As I've become older I've expanded my ideas of beauty.

When I compare my hand to that of one of my newer grandchildren there is such a difference. Theirs are chubby and smooth. Mine is much more interesting. Sometimes I compare it to the hand of my Fake Parent. Hers is more beautiful still and tells us something about her 88 years on this earth.

My Boyfriend is comfortable in his skin too.

All of this doesn't mean that we don't work out every day because we do. But it's no longer about the image. It's about staying vertical as long as possible.

Ocean Views

Last week my Boyfriend and I went to our favorite beach for a couple of days. I love to swim in the ocean. October is the best month because the water is warm - and there are no crowds.

We had lunch at the fish camp. This place is full of characters. It's a step back in time. I had my very first glass of beer. It just seemed like the thing to do. No, I couldn't finish it.

Also had half a dozen steamed oysters. The fish camp brings them to the picnic table in the shell along with a sharp knife. I gave up eating raw oysters a few years back - but I love them.

That night we dressed for dinner then walked barefoot up the beach to another favorite restaurant. It's up on stilts and while it's definitely for grown ups there's a fenced in place on the beach with lots of play equipment so parents can relax and still keep an eye on their children.

We spent the days body surfing. The east coast has the great waves. The gulf coast is quiet. The waves flipped each of us several times. We laughed and played like children.

Now, several days later, our bodies are still hurting. But it was worth it.

Words and Hardware

I grew up in Indianapolis where there were several Vonnegut's Hardware Stores. It was a big name in Indy.

When I was in my 20s I was introduced to the writer, Kurt Vonnegut. It was years before I connected Kurt to the hardware stores. He, too, was a Hoosier and the stores were owned by his uncle.

Vonnegut became my favorite writer for a time. At one point I thought that I had read everything he'd ever written for publication, including some advertisements.

His novels were weird and revolutionary and hysterically funny - in an extremely disrespectful way. Lots of people, including my Real Husband who was one of the smartest people I've ever known, couldn't understand a word he wrote.

What would you write if you had strong feelings about gun control? His novel "Deadeye Dick" was about a man who was playing with a gun and accidentally shot a child in the next apartment.

Last summer I read his final, slim book which he wrote at age 82, A Man Without a Country. I laughed out loud - a lot. (Despite the title he loved his country.)

How's this for making us think? In chapter 11 he says,

...the Martians have landed n New York City and are staying at the Waldorf Astoria. ...the good news is that they only eat homeless men, women, and children...and they pee gasoline.

(Don't you know some people that you suspect would be happy if this were the case?)

Each chapter began with a little "saying" in his own hand. Kind of a poster.

Do you think Arabs are dumb? They gave us our numbers. Try doing long division with Roman Numerals.

I'm grateful Kurt Vonnegut didn't decide to have a career at the hardware store.

Country Parsonage Tidbits

Before I forget (which happens all to frequently these days) I'll share a few more interesting tidbits from our two year experience being a (student) country preacher and family in the 1960s. We were urbanites with a civil rights background one week and living in a parsonage in the deep south the next.

• DEATH - A man had died the day before we arrived. So on our first day we visited the home of the deceased. Not only was his family gathered - but he was there in a home made coffin in the parlor. No funeral home had been called. They buried him the next day in the graveyard next to the church.
• PROTOCOL - The farmer down the road (way down the road) was introduced to us as "Mr. Smith." His wife was introduced as "His Second Wife, Martha." For the next two years I rarely heard her referred to by any other title. They had been married over 30 years. One day I was wandering in the grave yard. Two huge grave stones, one for the original Mrs. Smith and one for the Mister were side by side. "Second Wife Martha's" stone was cross ways at the bottom.
• VOTING - A racist (his description) ax wielding Lester Maddox was running for governor against Bo Calloway. We voted in the church building. Absolutely no privacy. Every person there knew how we voted. But if that wasn't enough, when the weekly paper came out they recorded the count. 87 votes for Maddox, 2 for Calloway!
• WATERMELONS - We were always grateful for food left on our doorstep. Sometimes I didn't know what it was (like black eyed peas) but in watermelon season we were given way, way too many. By the time we left there were melons buried all over the back yard.
• GIVING - We learned quickly that it was an insult to refuse a gift. One Christmas eve we stopped by the home of a very poor farm family. A shack really. He gave my husband a new one dollar bill. She gave me two tiny, round soaps that she'd wrapped in old tissue paper. We were both almost in tears as we left their home. As we were riding along on the way to Christmas eve services I noticed that bubbles were coming from the mouth of our # 1 son. He thought the soaps were cookies.


• CARJACKING - This county was known as the "carjacking county." Not unusual to see cars chained to trees and fence posts. But some of our parishioners were in on the carjacking as well. Since we were on a 4 party phone line my husband asked that we have a private line as he occasionally heard "confessions," etc. They turned him down but for a pretty good reason. No body else had a private line.


• COLA TRUCK - When the leading cola company in that area had deliveries for the tiny town ten miles away the black guy riding shotgun had to step out of the truck outside the city limits and wait for the truck to return.

The next year the minister in that tiny town moved to Atlanta to help integrate a downtown church. Our family moved back to the campus of Emory University. My husband became an unpaid associate pastor and we all helped in the exciting process of opening up a church to anybody who wanted to come.

A Perfect Plan

In the late 60s my Real Husband and I were living in the country parsonage and serving the Three-Point-Circuit (three small, country churches) and commuting one hundred miles daily to Emory University in Atlanta (the cultural equivalent of visiting another planet.)

Despite all of our differences we learned to love and respect our parishioners and they loved us as I'm sure they did every preacher's family. Since all they ever had were student pastors they were the ones who did the on the job training.

My Real Husband was frustrated with the amount of time he could give these people. They deserved more than "very" part time ministry. They had tremendous needs - spiritual, emotional, physical and financial.

We were both humbled at how much they came to us for answers. I'm not equating myself with being the minister here but my husband (at this point) was as clueless as I was. We felt like we didn't have the time, theological education or cultural background to be of much help.

So my Real Husband came up with this plan. Even though the church's income barely covered outgo (he received a salary of $2,500 per year) he believed that they could afford a full time pastor if they had faith and believed in God and in themselves.

Part of plan was that WE double our tithe for six months which meant that we would be giving back about 25% of his salary. This would help the church members see that they could do it.

What???

We did. It worked. The next year they had a full time "country preacher." As far as I know they have had a full time minister ever since - almost 40 years.

Life Changes

In the late 1960s my Real Husband and I lived in a nifty house in a nifty suburb. He was on the executive track with a big company. We had 2 preschoolers. I was writing and taking classes at the university.

Then, after a series of decisions that I won't go into because you'll think we were insane, we went to Emory University where my Real Husband entered the seminary.

While we were there we spent our entire savings so when he graduated, 3 years later, we started life over again, from scratch.

But for the first 2 years we supported ourselves by "serving a charge." While ministers in our denomination are highly educated, trained and psychoanalyzed, student pastors can be green as grass.

So one week we were in our big home and 3 weeks later we were in the Georgia country side "serving" a charge of 3 country churches. When somebody said "Hey Preacher," my Real Husband had no idea to whom they were speaking.

We were (and I always will be) urban type people. We coped. They coped.

We lived in a pretty little brick parsonage. The church people had built it themselves. There were no other homes in sight. All of our parishioners were relatively poor farmers. Most of them were related.

They were good people but we had precious little in common. We were aliens in a foreign land.

I quickly learned the joys of parsonage living. One late chilly afternoon I was in my bed with the children reading to them. All at once a man in overalls appeared in the bedroom. He just began discussing his business with me as if coming into my house and into my bedroom was perfectly normal.

By the way, this bed was covered with a lovely hand made quilt. When we turned it down under our chins at night there were, beautifully stitched, the words "Property of Bold Spring Charge."

The Sunshine State

I'm so happy I don't live in Seattle. While it's a breathtakingly beautiful place, it rains a lot. I get to feeling a little blue when it rains or is even overcast. My theory is that, since I'm big time claustrophobic, the cloud cover makes me feel closed in.

Thank goodness I live in The Sunshine State. But the thing is, since I returned home from my Boyfriend's house nearly 2 months ago it's rained almost every day.

And not the usual one hour thundershowers we're famous for. It rains all day.

There are mushrooms in the front yard.

When I'm getting dressed for the day I think it's cool (because it's gloomy) but then I walk outside to the 90 degree sauna.

My hair is way kinky.

I feel so sorry for people who have saved their money all year to come to Disney World. Please accept my personal apology.

My Muse

My niece is a professional writer. That is to say, she's paid to write. Not true with most writers. I'm blessed with having so many "larger than life" people in my world. She fits way up there toward the top.

Since she's my children's peer we haven't been in close contact over the years. I keep up with her mother, whom I adore.

Then my niece started a blog. It's gutsy and funny. She makes herself vulnerable - but in doing so all I see is this heroic person choosing to do some really hard stuff with her life - and then blogging about it. It's not always pretty but it's always funny - and real. She's very brave.

I know what it's like to be vulnerable. I've lived in a fishbowl my entire adult life. Danger is always lurking.

But part of being a writer is being real.

My niece helped me get my blog up and running and has been exceedingly encouraging. She's my muse. But if she had a problem with any of it she'd tell me in an entertaining way - because she's gutsy, funny, brave and smart.

Oh, and a professional writer.

Once, several years ago, my niece attended a funeral where she met a couple of men, her age, that she had every reason to dislike - intensely. There was some bad family history. Innocent people whom she loves were hurt.

By the way, she is drop dead gorgeous. And, at that time she was vice president of a large bank. A powerful woman by any measure.

Anyway, these men were coming on to her. (Who wouldn't?) When one of them asked where she worked she said, "I work at XX bank." Most likely thinking she was a teller, they said, "We probably know you. We lay carpet at that bank."

(Let's think about all of the ways she could have crushed them on the spot.)

But she didn't. She was kind. Never told them what she did.

She's a class act.

My Amazing Aunt M

This remarkable woman wasn't even my aunt. She married my uncle. One of the best things she did for me was to tell me everything. She married into a family of secret keepers. My mother died when I was a little child. I grew up not knowing loads of things about myself.

She spilled the beans.

Following are some remarkable things about her.

• Despite having a very hard childhood and no role models she raised two bright children and got them through college.

• Twenty or so years after the first 2 were born she was living with her husband on a farm. She looked like a typical farm wife. Heavy set. When she wasn't feeling well she went to the country doctor. You guessed it. She was very pregnant. Neither she nor the country doctor were sophisticated enough to worry about this pregnancy in her late 40s. He said, "Just go home and do what you normally do."

• So she (successfully) raised another child.

• Meanwhile her husband died. You would think she might throw in the towel. But her life took on new meaning.

• In her late 50s she learned to drive.

• Nobody knew that she had never graduated from high school until she studied and took her GED.

• She traveled with her girlfriends and family members. She went to Europe.

• She became president of her women's club. She was a leader in her church.

• Everybody loved her. Letters addressed to Aunt M and only the name of her medium sized city were delivered to her door.

• She was notoriously thrifty. She bought only necessities. Once, when she was visiting our family my son, who was on the high school track team, needed new running shoes. I balked at the price. She said nothing but purchased a very nice hand towel and presented it to him. I got the message.

Right up until her early 80s she was a delightful, funny, intelligent, gracious force to be reckoned with.

She helped shape my life.

Save the Planet

My Boyfriend and I are taking this class on Wednesdays. It's about saving the planet. I'm into that. Call me crazy, but it just seems like a worthwhile endeavor.

The class if full of really smart and cool people and includes a catered lunch so how can it be anything but fun? Oh yes, and terrifying.

It was suggested by our leader that, instead of using the disposable plates, cups, etc. provided by the caterer, we bring our own utensils from home and reuse them.

I wanted to do this despite the fact that the disposable plates provided are made from corn and are, in fact, edible. We have proof because a young man in the class took a bite.

Didn't want to buy anything new. Finally found some old plates and cups. I'm carrying them back and forth in a plastic bag - but I'm washing all of these things and reusing them.

Here's why we should reuse plastic. In our society we're encouraged to throw it away but it lasts forever!

****
Today's Save the Planet tip: Never fertilize your lawn if you live on water.

Sharing

My Boyfriend and I share a lot. We're light eaters so we share lots of meals. There's a really nice seafood restaurant close to my condo. They have a great lunch special consisting of fried fish, baked potato, cole slaw, rolls and butter. It costs $7.95. We share it.

Lately we've noticed that when I can't think of a word he can. And visa versa. So now we're sharing a brain.

Lots of couples, as they get older, share a brain. It's so practical.

Love Letter

I've been accused of not being very lovey dovey. I don't want any flowers or presents. Anniversaries don't mean much to me. In fact, I usually have to be reminded. And, please, no surprises!

But I feel totally lovey dovey and wild about my Fake Parents. As you may remember, they eat in restaurants 3 times a day. If I'm meeting them I get all gooey when I see them walking across the street holding hands.

But he's not feeling well so they've been stuck in their (big, beautiful, high rise) condo for a couple of days.


Yesterday my Boyfriend and I stopped by with dinner. We thought they'd be in bed (when he lies down so does she) but when we arrived they both looked like they'd stepped out of a band box.

Even though he was in serious pain, we had a fun visit and laughed a lot. Just what I needed. I never, ever feel like I'm doing something for them when we're together.

They always brighten my day. They always make me feel gooey.

Have I mentioned that they've been married for 64 years?

Who Are We?

There's a controversy in my state about the manner of applying the death penalty. Lethal injection has been used but malfunctioned a while back resulting in the long, painful death of a convicted killer.

This morning's letters to the editor in the paper advocate even harsher ways to kill these people.

To me, it's not about the murderers. It's about us. Do we really want to be people who get pleasure and relief from torturing others?

My boyfriend and I saw a sobering, thought provoking movie the other night -"In the Valley of Elah" staring Tommy Lee Jones. It's R rated for good reason. Unlike "The Bourne Ultimatum" this is about real life.

It's about sweet, innocent young men who have been trained to protect us -becoming monsters. It's based on fact.

When Jimmy Carter was the governor of Georgia he had a convicted murderer working for him as a trustee in the governor's mansion. She was so outstanding that when Carter became president he took the woman (Mary Prince) to live with him and Rosalynn in the white house. She was later found to be innocent and was pardoned, but that's beside the point.

There are all kinds of ways to deal with human beings.

Interesting Friends

I am blessed with the most interesting friends. I have this guy friend who's getting married soon. He's been single a while but he has a beautiful teenage daughter and a former wife (who is also a cool person) close by.

He's a financial planner. (Yawn!)

He's also heavily into meditation. I don't attend the classes in his living room because if I had to be quiet for an hour I'd shoot myself. But I have attended his meditation/labyrinth retreats.

But his speciality is Crystal Singing Bowls.

He's also a music guy. On the symphony board. Plays his grand piano.

I didn't think there was much chance that he'd find somebody compatible. Not even that eHarmony guy would be able to match him up.

But she appeared. They have much in common. They're both uncommonly Woo Woo. She's a pianist. (Yawn!)

But what that means in her case is that, well, she's found her way to Carnegie Hall - the hard way. She's part of a very prestigious ensemble.

They were here for dinner the other night along with other close interesting friends. We had a delightful time discussing the wedding. My boyfriend and I cannot attend because it's one of those destinations where it takes you 3 days to get close - then you travel the rest of the way on foot or via mountain goat.

They're living close by but I'm not sure how they're accommodating their matching grand pianos.

On a side note, nobody swelled up or turned purple from the Cashew Chicken with the peanut sauce. Whew!