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.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
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.
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.
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.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
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.
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.
Friday, October 26, 2007
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.
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.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
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.
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.
Monday, October 22, 2007
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.
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.
Saturday, October 20, 2007
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:
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.
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.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
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.
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.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
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.
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.
Monday, October 15, 2007
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.
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.
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.
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.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
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.
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.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
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.
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
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.
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.
Monday, October 8, 2007
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."
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.
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.
Saturday, October 6, 2007
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.
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.
Friday, October 5, 2007
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.
Right up until her early 80s she was a delightful, funny, intelligent, gracious force to be reckoned with.
She helped shape my life.
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.
Thursday, October 4, 2007
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.
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.
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
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.
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.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
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?
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?
Monday, October 1, 2007
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.
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.
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