Living the Life of Tere

All Because Of Coconut Cake

2011-12-11T18:03:00.001-05:00

I had not once visited my sister Mickey in Louisiana in the 10+ years she had lived there. She always came to Tennessee and Kentucky since most of the family was there. This year, for Thanksgiving, my daughter and I made the trip to see Mickey, her husband Greg, and her two sons Trey and Trent. I had not seen the boys play football since they were little and now Trey was about to graduate. And both were playing in a state semi-final game. It was perfect timing. I also realized that Chapel of the Cross in Madison, Mississippi was along the route to her house. Several of our ancestors are buried at Chapel of the Cross and it would be the perfect opportunity for me to see the cemetery and take some photos for my genealogy research. It turned out to be dark and rainy when we reached Jackson so we did not make the short trip over to Madison.

Mickey has the same genetic makeup that the women in my family all seem to possess. We make way too much food for a celebration. It comes from my mother’s side of the family. My grandmother always made a table full of food, so much that it covered the table leaving no place to sit, much more than any family could eat. It was her way of showing her love. My mom and aunt did the same and thus, passed it on. Mickey had more food than I have seen in a long time, all the traditional family favorites and more. We ate, watched football, ate, watched football, then we ate some more.

As we sat at the kitchen bar sampling the desserts, we discussed coconut cake. My grandmother made the most amazing coconut cake. It was a bright white cake with soft coconut milk flavor and fluffy icing topped with fresh coconut. She would always have one in the freezer to take out when we arrived. That was my mother’s favorite. Mom would sit at the table and slice off small slivers of frozen cake. Once that was eaten, she would smile and say “I need to even that side up” and cut off another sliver.

Mickey wondered if I knew where the recipe for the cake was. I didn’t. Our grandmother didn’t usually cook from a cookbook, mostly just from recipes passed between friends on scraps of paper or sometimes torn from the newspaper.

Mickey had some old books around her house so she decided to see if maybe it was stuck in one of the books. She brought some out of a closet. A small book, too small to be a cookbook, and without a side binding was sitting at the top. I opened it to see what it contained.
It was a bible. From 1853. Immediately I was interested. As I carefully turned the delicate pages, I ran across poems cut from a newspaper and pinned on a few of the pages. There were leaves or flowers pressed between the pages.

And then I saw it. Handwriting in the margins of a middle section. It said “Our dear Blake and Trinkins married 8th Feb. 1888.

I quickly recognized the names and the date. My geeky genealogical heart started beating faster. Blake Baker Wiggins and Trinkins Cabaniss Wiggins are my great, great grandparents. I gingerly turned the pages and found so much more. Blake’s grandmother, Mary Wharton Bryan Dewees, was the owner of the bible. She had written notes on important events in the margin over about 40 years time. Notes about her siblings, her children, her grandchildren and even a few about great grandchildren. There was the day General Lee surrendered, there were notes on crop plantings and frosts and the “worst windstorm I have ever experienced”. It was noted the day President Garfield and President McKinley were shot. There were births, deaths, marriages, illnesses and moves to another state.

This one says “ My birth day 1818 22nd June”. “1891 - 73 years old to day”. “1892 – still here”. “1898 – 80th”. Mary died in 1904 at the age of 86. And there are a few notes after that from her daughter Mary Lorraine Dewees Wiggins, my great, great, great grandmother.

I have searched the internet and corresponded with many distant cousins to try to track down information on this fascinating line of our family. This whole time, a book that is well over 150 years old and full of valuable family information was sitting in my sister’s closet. And written in the hand of one of my most interesting of our female relatives, truly a beloved matriarch.

I forgot all about the coconut cake recipe and ignored all going on around me as I turned each page carefully and read each line. Mickey told me to take the book home but I offered to scan each page and leave it with her. It was hers. But in the end, she sent it with me. She will never understand how much it means to me to have it.

All because of coconut cake.

Everything Happens For A Reason

2011-10-03T21:48:00.002-04:00

My mom always told me that . . . Everything happens for a reason. Whenever I didn’t understand or something just didn’t make sense to either of us, Mom said that. And she was always right. One event influenced another that influenced a decision that influenced an outcome that was absolutely wonderful . . . or at least better.

I’ve maintained that attitude through the worst times of my life and the best times of my life. I am thinking about it now. I am going to be a grandmother. I am quite excited. Now. Not so much several weeks ago. But now, very excited.

When you have children, you see certain things in their future. They make decisions and show behaviors that influence how you think their lives will go. Some of that vision is comprised of hopes and dreams but if we look beyond that, and are honest, we can see the general direction of their future.

I saw a pretty easy life for my daughter. She is very determined and strong. She wanted to finish college, get married to a loving guy who could be a real partner. She would work as a designer, buy a nice house, and she would wait until her later 20’s to have children. She would be able to stay at home or work from home when her kids are younger and be your stereotypical soccer mom. While I see things with a more jaded perspective, I saw a lot of that in her future, just with a few more bumps along the way as we all know life goes.

The guy she was dating was very nice - charming, easygoing, thoughtful, an athlete, ambitious, loved to cook and loved kids. Things moved quickly but they were very happy. A pregnancy was not in the plans at all but they were planning to move from Atlanta to Denver so he could train to get back into the NFL. There was a delay in the Denver plans and the next thing they knew, she was pregnant. Neither one was happy about the timing but my daughter was going to make the best of it. Her boyfriend, on the other hand, was determined to go forward with his plans with or without her. The relationship started to break down under the stress and she ended up moving back to Tennessee to have a support system and let him figure out what he was going to do. Since that time, they have continued to communicate periodically about the baby but while there is hope he will come around later, he remains uninterested in being involved, is willing to pay child support, and she is staring at single parenthood in the future.

And yet, her positive attitude and determination has really impressed me. Her child will be bi-racial which is unimportant to us but to some people in this country, it’s a big deal. If anyone can handle that and make it work, she can. She will be a single mother with only a year of college. But I know this kid will make that work to her advantage somehow. And I know she will be a great mom. Her child is one lucky kid.

And I am one lucky mom. I mean Grandmother.

Everything happens for a reason.

Circle of Life Stories

2011-07-25T21:05:00.000-04:00

It’s been awhile. Friends keep asking . . . “Why haven’t you updated your blog”. I don’t really have an answer. “I will soon”.

The last few months have been busy and I have had lots of stories to tell. I took a trip to New York and Amish Country with sister and a friend. We stayed in an apartment in Harlem and since my sister paid for the apartment, I was able to 4 days on less than $200. We had so much fun, saw everything, even my nephew’s basketball tournament. I returned obsessed with the Amish Lots of stories. None of which made it to the blog.

My kids have had lots of changes in their lives. My son graduated from Massage Therapy School and I am so proud of him. It has been so hard for him to get to this place in his life and I am overjoyed that he completed the courses and is paying for it himself. But I couldn’t manage to put it into words here.

My daughter has quit her job to move to another state but hasn’t moved yet. She has a new boyfriend and temporarily moved back home. She has had many “learning experiences” in the last few months and probably will over the next couple of months. I never could decide if I wanted to share my parent’s perspective and ultimately I didn’t.

I have people in my life who are going through things that I thought I wanted to “discuss”, work has been crazy and there have been lots of personal growth and challenges to overcome and I have a torn meniscus in my knee which will require surgery in August. But I haven’t shared any of this.

Until today. What brought me back to my blog? A Circle Journal. What is a Circle Journal? It’s a small blank book that you write in and add pictures then send to another person so they can do the same. That person either sends it on to someone else or back to the person it came from.

I received one today. It’s a Circle Journal I gave to my sister for Christmas in 2003. We mailed it back and forth a few times between January and July of 2004 when it got set aside during a busy time at my sister’s house. We both forgot about it. Then, a few days ago, she found it. Without saying anything, she put some pictures of my Dad’s wedding in it, wrote a short entry, and put it in the mail. I got it today.

I sat in my big comfy pink chair this evening and read through the entries. It was just random stuff that was going on at the time, mostly stuff I had forgotten long ago. Little bits of our lives, not really anything important but one memory led to another memory that, at the time, we had no idea was to come. The pictures made me realize how much our kids have changed and grown. The entries were written before my mom died. We had no idea how different our lives would be in the next year.

It made me want to write. My blog is a little like that journal. Little bits and pieces of our lives that we want to remember whether I know it now or not. So it’s time to write again.

Girly Girl Who?

2011-05-14T17:04:00.002-04:00

When I think of someone who would be described as a “girly girl”, there are so many characteristics that come to mind, none of which I possess. I am sort of a tomboy and always have been but I also really love being a girl. I love dresses and high-heeled shoes and dressing up and getting my hair did and all the other girly things we all love. It just takes a lot of work and not something I want to do every day.

I’ve tried. I hate it. It is too much work. It takes time and my ADHD kicks in pretty quickly, causing me to lose interest. I don’t think of it as pampering and it is so time-consuming. I wish I felt differently but it will never happen on a consistent basis.

Some of the ways I am not a girly girl:

I hate to take a shower. Yes, I DO take showers and I kind of like baths when I have the time, bubbles, and a glass of wine but if I could be clean and smell good without getting in the water, my bathtub would be storage for shoes.
People give me lotions and powders and shower gels and bubble bath and other bath products as gifts. I almost never use them and either give them to someone or throw them away when I get on a cleaning spree. It’s sadly a waste of money.
If I never had to shave my legs again, I would be a happy girl. I like the way my legs look when they are shaved but just hate to take the time to shave them. One of the few benefits of aging is that the hair on your legs gets lighter and softer. Unfortunately, I am a hairy girl. During my teens and twenties, if I didn’t shave daily, my legs looked like Robin William’s arms so this aging thing is making me very happy.
Painting of the nails and toes should be left to salons. For over 20 years I have had acrylic nails and during the summer, I get a pedicure every 2 – 3 weeks. Recently, in order to save money, I stopped getting my nails done and decided to attempt to do my own pedicures. What a mistake! Jagged cuticles, messy polish, uneven filing. How does one get into the right contortionist position to paint one’s own toenails? And what about those scaly heels? This might be the disaster I think it will be.
Let’s talk about makeup. I am old enough that I cannot go without it. Gotta cover up those blotchy red spots and chin hairs. Watch out for the wrinkles, they tend to catch the lotion and foundation and sweat in them and it ends up looking like a topical map of the Grand Canyon. And I hate to take off makeup at night. Call me lazy. When I do take off makeup, either at night or before putting on more makeup, I use those makeup remover towelettes – quick, efficient and disposable.

So . . . are you a girly girl? What do you hate about girliness? What do you love about it?

Finding Joy

2011-03-20T12:10:00.004-04:00

The further I wake into this life, the more I realize that God is everywhere and the extraordinary is waiting quietly beneath the skin of all that in ordinary. Light is in both the broken bottle and the diamond, and music is in both the flowing violin and the water dripping from the drainage pipe. Yes, God is under the porch as well as on top of the mountain, and joy is in both the front row and the bleachers, if we are willing to be where we are. ~Mark Nepo

I heard an interview recently with Mark Nepo in which this passage was read. I have thought a lot about it over the past few weeks and I purchased the Kindle version of Mark’s book The Book of Awakening: Having the Life You Want by Being Present to the Life You Have.

The above is an excerpt from a larger passage in which Mark talks about being able to find joy in small things.

So many of us have been trained to think that being particular about what we want is indicative of good taste, and that not being satisfied unless our preferences are met is a sign of worldliness and sophistication. I remember being at a party where a woman wouldn’t accept her drink unless it was made with a certain brand of vermouth. She was, in fact, indignant about it. Or going to dinner with a colleague who had to have his steak prepared in a complex and special way, as if this particular need to be different was his special public signature. Or watching very intelligent men and women inscribe their circle of loneliness with criteria for companionship that no one could meet. I used to maintain such a standard of excellence around the sort of art I found acceptable.

Often, this kind of discernment is seen as having high standards, when in actuality it is only a means of isolating ourselves from being touched by life, while rationalizing that we are more special than those who can’t meet our very demanding standards.

The devastating truth is that excellence can’t hold you in the night, and, as I learned when ill, being demanding or sophisticated won’t help you survive. A person dying of thirst doesn’t ask if the water has chlorine or if it was gathered in the foothills of France.

As I said, this has made a huge impact on me recently. My attitude over the last few weeks has been poor and this passage keeps coming back to me, reminding me of what is important in my life. Reminding me there is joy.

I think about some of my favorite times in life, many of which I have written about here. I go immediately to the memories of being on my grandparent’s farm. My sister reminded me last week of the sounds of the frogs and crickets at night outside the window. I remember the sunshine and cool breeze coming through the open window beside the daybed while the old metal fan swung from side to side. The smell of my grandmother making breakfast early in the morning. Picking blackberries, chasing fireflies at dusk, coke floats on a hot summer night, huge country style meals with hot biscuits and homemade strawberry jelly, swinging on the grapevines from big flat rock to big flat rock to get down to the lake, jumping from the hayloft and climbing in the corncrib.

These days, as I sit in the sunroom with my windows open, a soft breeze blows in the warm late afternoon and that feeling returns, the feeling that I realize now is joy. I am reminded that there is joy every day that I miss because I have been too busy looking at the negative of every day life. The hot coffee in my favorite cup from Anthropologie, meeting friends for a quick chat at our favorite coffee shop, riding in the car through the country while a friend introduces me to where she grew up and shares the memories from each house or store or creek along the road, stopping at an old drive-in for hot crinkle cut fries and a homemade banana milkshake, meeting my daughter for a margarita and people watching on the square, my son posting a quote from his favorite childhood book on my facebook wall – “I love you forever, I like you for always, as long as I’m living, my mommy you’ll be”.

I hope I always remember to recognize and appreciate the joy that is there in life every day.

Crossroads

2011-03-16T19:20:00.000-04:00

I've never been here before . . . not knowing what I want out of life. Knowing I don't want to be here but not having a clue which way to go. No ideas whatsoever. Such unfamiliar territory.

I have always had an idea of where I wanted to go with my life. Not really goals or defined steps but a general idea of what I wanted and a dedication to trusting the Universe to take me there. I am not a planner but it works for me.

When I was younger I knew I wanted to teach, to get married and to have children. That's exactly what happened although the route to get there was not one I could ever have planned. Most of my life has been that way. Not necessarily the way I would have planned it but mostly perfectly interesting and amazing.

I've had a lot of different jobs in my life that were not in the plan but I loved most of them and I learned something from all of them that I took to the next job. I usually had some idea of what I wanted to do next, beyond the job I had at the time and sometimes I was pleasantly surprised by a job offer that turned out to be just perfect for me. The one thing that never worked . . . me looking for a job. Somehow, when I was unhappy and went looking for jobs outside the company I worked for, it never worked out. I learned to just trust that it would all work out and it always did, much better than I could have planned.

I was raised to want more, to learn and grow and to move up in your position. When I was a teacher, I wanted to be an assistant director. When I was the assistant director, I wanted to be the director. And so on, and so on, and so on. I have worked for the same company for almost 30 years, all of my adult life. I have been in my current position for 14 years. The next step up is a VP position which I have been interested in before and have even applied for twice in the last 7 years. I'm not really interested in that position anymore and thankful someone else got the job instead of me.

That's the problem. I have no goals for my career any more.

I never write about my job here. It's something I don't believe in doing. But I'm not really writing about my company or my job in this post. It's more about where I am in my life right now. There are a lot of people that I work with that read this blog and this is in no way related to our company. It's ALL about me. :)

Part of it, I think, is related to turning 50. I am looking back at my life and wondering where it went. I feel young and I feel like I have lots of opportunity ahead of me. But the fact is . . . it's hard to start over at 50. And I'm locked in to a certain salary in that I have expenses and obligations and no spouse to support me. And for the first time in my life, I don't know what I want to do. Even if I were to leave my company and go to a whole new industry or start my own business, what would I want to do? I can't think of anything I would want to do as a full time job. It's kind of scary. Something is missing.

I am not saying I'm too old to start over. My mom was almost 60 when she started her own business. Age has nothing to do with it. You need a dream and a passion. Where did my dreams and my passion go?

Things are changing right now. But I'm a survivor. The thing is . . . I don't want to just survive. I want my life and my job to mean something. I'm passionate about the people I work with and our customers but I'm not sure anymore if the position I'm in is where I need to be.

I am reminding myself that the Universe will take me in the direction I need to go . . . that things happen for a reason . . . that I need to trust that things are moving forward and will be better. I am remembering and thankful that my family is safe and healthy, that I have a home, that there is much suffering in Japan, in the Middle East and so many other places and my frustrations are insignificant and temporary.

Is this a natural occurrence at a milestone birthday? I don't remember doing it at 30 or at 40. What are your experiences? What changes did you make? Are you happier?

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What’s In A Name?

2011-03-06T20:21:00.002-05:00

An interesting phenomenon has occurred in my family. It started when my siblings and I started getting married. It has continued through the years and now, with my Dad’s new marriage, it continues. We have so many of the same names throughout our family. Let me try to explain without too much confusion.

My middle sister’s real name is Michelle but we have always called her Mickey. My husband’s brother is married to a Michelle whose mother’s name is Mickey and whose dad’s name is Terry. My new stepsister’s name is Michelle and my new stepbrother’s name is Mickey. Growing up, my sister was always Girl Mickey and by new stepbrother was always Boy Mickey. Now that our parents are married, they are once again Boy Mickey and Girl Mickey even though both are in their mid-forties.

My husband’s brother’s name is Greg (married to Michelle above) and my sister Mickey is married to her husband Greg.

My brother’s first wife was Terri and his second wife was Casey which is my daughter’s name.

My youngest sister is married to Josh and our cousin’s name is also Josh.

So now, my daughter is dating a guy named Austin which just happens to be my brother’s oldest son’s name. I have already joked that he MUST be “the one” because he has the same name as someone else in our family.

Not Exactly What Anyone Was Expecting

2011-01-30T15:54:00.002-05:00

My dad and Mike met in Kindergarten in Clarksville, Tennessee. They became fast friends, grew up together and stayed “best friends” throughout their lives. While in high school, my dad dated every girl that would go out with him. He was also voted Biggest Flirt and has his picture in the yearbook to prove it. He dated a mutual friend, Linda, and her mother sent a hatpin with her on the date so if he got out of hand, Linda could poke him. That relationship didn’t last long. He ended up engaged to their friend Jill and Linda became engaged to Dad’s friend Mike. Then Dad went away to college in another state.

During Dad’s freshman year, he met Annette in drama class and they were in several plays together. A little bit of heat developed and they fell in love and eloped. Lives changed, Jill was hurt, his friends questioned his decision but they all accepted and grew to love this stranger named Annette and things moved forward.
I came along quickly, followed by my brother, and they struggled to stay in school and support themselves. Eventually Dad joined ROTC because the small payment he received paid for married student housing and allowed them to remain in school. As a result, Dad had to go into the army upon graduation. Besides marrying my mom, it was the best thing that ever happened to him.

Our little family traveled with the army and grew to include my sister and much later, another sister. Whenever returning to Clarksville to visit our grandparents, we always visited with Mike and Linda, Jill and her husband Phil and when they were in town, Reda and her husband Phil who was also in the army. They had all been friends for years and they felt like family. Kids were born and we all got to know each other and became friends. Mike and Linda and their 3 kids visited us wherever we moved and we have lots of fun stories about each other and things that have happened over the years. You know, those stories that no one else really gets but you think are hilarious. The photo at left is of a long ago visit and left to right is my brother Chip, Linda’s oldest daughter Michelle, my middle sister Mickey, Linda’s twins Mickey and Merci, and me. My youngest sister Andie was not born yet.

In 2004, Mike got cancer and passed away. Within a year, Mom died of cancer. My dad lost his best friend and his life-long love in a year’s time. Linda and Dad supported each other with what each of them was going through. Dad began dating quickly. He really could never be alone. He reunited with a friend named Mary from grade school who had lost her husband a few years before and they have been dating since 2005. This was a struggle for me and my siblings. My dad adored my mom more than anything in this world. It was hard to see him with someone else. But he needed to be with someone. So we were polite and supportive. Well, most of us, most of the time. The old friends accepted Mary into their group and everything went on as normal. I got to know Mary, she was a nice person and really cared about my dad. It was still weird.

About 2 years ago, Dad arrived at my house for Christmas before everyone else and we just hung out and talked. The conversation turned to his relationship with Mary. He said she was pushing to get married. He said he would never get married again. I asked why. He said “I loved your mother more than anything in this world and I was devastated when she died. At my age, you have to really love someone to watch them die.” We talked about the reasons he did not want to marry anyone. So he wasn’t getting married. I have to admit I was a little relieved.

Last night, my phone rang. It was Dad. He asked what I was doing. I said watching TV. He said “I’m getting married.” I could hear laughter in the background so I refrained from reminding him that he said he was never going to marry Mary. I simply told him congratulations. Dad said “Don’t you want to know who I’m getting married to?” I told him I assumed it was Mary. He told me to hold on and I could talk to her. I didn’t really want to but I said “Ok”. I heard laughter. I recognized the laughter. A voice came on the phone. It was Linda! Ahhhhhh, this was a joke. They were punking me. I told her they were crazy, still thinking this was a joke. Linda said “Well we may be crazy but we are getting married.”

I was stunned. She began talking. I tried to process it all. She shared that this could never have happened 5 years ago. That things had just changed between them a couple of months ago. They really knew about 3 or 4 weeks ago that things were different but Dad had to tell Mary. He did that yesterday. They were calling all the kids.

I started to cry. I couldn’t figure out how I felt, if I was happy or sad. I felt bad for Mary but this just felt right. I told them I was excited. I told them they would probably kill each other. Linda agreed that might have been true at one time but said they would be ok now. She said almost the same thing my dad had said those few years before. “At our age, you have to really have to love someone to be willing to watch them die.” We talked a little more then I congratulated them as they got off the phone to call my siblings and share the news.

My phone rang quickly. First my aunt. Then my sister. Then my other sister. We did a three way call. Finally my brother called. We were all shocked. We still weren’t sure this wasn’t really a joke. But we were all ultimately happy even though we were confused. We grew up with Linda’s kids. We have a history together. We all agreed Mom would have been surprised too but would also think this was a good idea.

I guess that’s really what love is . . . to love someone so much that you are willing to watch them die. To love them so much that you are willing to go through the bad stuff because the good stuff is so good.

I wish that for all of us.

Things I Already Knew But Learned Recently

2011-01-25T17:14:00.002-05:00

My youngest sister had a baby. She wanted her sisters there. We wanted to be there. We live nowhere near her. My youngest sister Andie lives in California. My middle sister Mickey lives in Louisiana. I live in Tennessee. As you can see, there is some physical distance between us. There is also a large age difference. I was in college when Andie was born and Mickey was 13. Since our mom died 5 years ago, the two of us have kind of become her substitute for Andie. Of course we would be there. We planned the trip and my daughter, who lives in Atlanta, asked to be included. Andie had been trying to get my daughter to come out to Los Angeles for several years and now would be a great time for her to join us. We didn’t tell Andie she was coming. We coordinated flights and arrivals from 3 different cities. It was a great surprise and we were so excited as we waited for the baby to arrive.

We arrived the day after Andie’s daughter Indigo was born. She is perfectly perfect, a beautiful baby. Andie’s husband Josh and her 7 year old son Taj picked us up from the airport, we headed back to their house in Tarzana and Josh left to go pick up Andie and Indigo from the hospital. Over the next 4 days we visited and shopped and did tourist stuff and held the baby and cooked and loved each other. There were so many reminders of things I knew but forgot about all of us, the way you forget when you don’t see people often. Here are some of those things:

Andie is married to an amazing man. Josh waited on Andie, changed diapers, took care of the baby, took care of Taj, washed dishes, gave us the tour of LA, had very little sleep and never complained. He is the most patient human I have ever met. My sister describes herself on her blog as “A fiesty, short-tempered, in-your-face lunatic that really wishes for peace and equality and harmony and love” and that’s a pretty good description of her. When Josh took her on, he also took on her son Taj, the sweetest boy in the world. You would never know that Josh is not Taj’s biological father. He is an amazing father to Taj and he is already a great dad to Indigo too. He is my idol.
We sisters are all very different. We have always known this but when you put us all in one room, it is so comically evident. Part of this is our age differences and life experiences. I am the oldest and my brother and I were very close in age. He was my best friend growing up. Mickey was 5 years younger and we had very little in common. As we became adults, our friendship developed and now we are very close sisters and friends. As I said, Andie was born while I was in college and I am more like an aunt or mom to her than a sister. My own children are just a few years younger than her. Andie is kind of a rebel but as she has matured and I have mellowed, we have found we are probably more alike than any of our siblings. And this trip showed that my daughter is more like Andie than any of us.
I need more private time than I think I do. I am quite aware that I occasionally need some alone time. As I get older and my children have become adults, I realize I am pretty set in my ways. This trip reminded me that, while I love being around people and family, I have to have a place to retreat. I didn’t really have that and I struggled occasionally. I’m pretty sure I was not the only one. My daughter is the same way and I think my sister Andie also feels the same. We are all control freaks and when one is not in control . . . well, our eyes give it away. There were no issues but it was a short visit
We all miss Mom. I kept thinking about how much my mom would have loved holding Indigo and playing with Taj. She would have loved that we are all so close now. She would be so impressed by Josh. She would be so proud of Andie.
We will all make it without Mom. We are closer now and have each taken on different “Mom roles”. Mickey has her caring nature and giving spirit as well as her sense of humor. Andie has her strong will, independence, and determination. I have her love of cooking, travel, and new experiences. The three of us together make a pretty good combination.
Andie is a good mom. She is very traditional but also very non-traditional in her ways of motherhood. She is a hand washing and hand sanitizer Nazi. She is careful to make sure Taj is ok and is having fun. She knows what is right for her daughter and will make sure the right things happen. She is going to be just fine.
I actually CAN make Mom’s biscuits. Our mom comes from a long line of amazing Southern cooks. Mom and her sister inherited her biscuit making skills from our grandmother. Their biscuits are legendary in our family. Of course, there has never been a recipe so I had Mom figure out amounts and wrote them down. We have all tried to make her biscuits with varying degrees of success but no one comes close. Andie requested Biscuits and Chicken ‘n Dumplings during our visit and I warned her that mine were not like Mom’s. But I gave it a try. I thought about watching my grandmother, aunt, and mom as they made biscuits. I remembered how they made a well in the flour for the oil. How they kneaded the dough on the floured surface until it was smooth and rolled out the dough until it was just thick enough. They must have been there with me because the biscuits were perfect. My daughter said they were the best I had ever made. I may never be able to do it again but I did it this time!

Happy, Happy Joy, Joy

2010-12-27T13:03:00.002-05:00

It was a good Christmas. One of the best we have had in a while. No presents were exchanged. There was only the gift of time together. A reminder of what Christmas is really all about.

It just all worked out. There was no real plan. My kids were home and off work at the same time. We talked and cooked and ate as we felt like it. My son requested Chicken and Dumplings for Christmas Eve dinner. My daughter requested potato latkes for Christmas breakfast. Whatever they wanted to eat, I fixed it.

It snowed. What’s better than snow on Christmas? We woke up to snow on Christmas morning and it came down softly all day long. Not a lot but enough to make it special. And it kept snowing well into the next day blanketing our yard and the roads in white and making it easy to stay inside together.

We played games – Connect Four, Yahtzee, Scene It - until midnight on Christmas Eve. My daughter’s best friend joined us. We played Scene It again on Christmas Day. Then, after talking to friends, we headed to their house, through the snow, to play Just Dance 2 on the Wii. We danced for hours, all the kids, all the adults, just hanging out together and acting a fool.

As she drove back home on the slick, snow covered roads, my daughter said that this was one of her favorite Christmas memories. I switched over to drive my son’s car for him and he said the same thing. We talked about the fact that we are blessed and that none of us needed anything so we didn’t miss the presents. We talked about the laid back feeling of just doing what we felt like doing with no pressure to make it the “perfect” Christmas, whatever that is.

I was reminded of how special my kids are and that time with each other is what creates the best Christmas memories. And this was one of the best.

Where Are You Christmas?

2010-12-05T10:28:00.003-05:00

My world is changing
I'm rearranging
Does that mean Christmas changes too?

Every year, I seem to struggle more. Christmas was my favorite holiday as a child and as an adult. When I had children, I wanted to make it amazingly special for them. It had to be beautiful and special, not with toys or things, but with memories and activities and stories and family.

In 2001, my husband died and it became more difficult to muster the energy to decorate. Things were not the same. Someone was missing and we all knew it. It was weird. The effort to “make things the same” was wasted because we knew it would never be the same. Then I tried to make things totally different. That didn’t work either and ended in tears. We couldn’t “fix it”.

We did try to get rid of the material items that meant nothing and tried to make memories. We replaced the material things with trips each year – a cruise, Disney World, New York, a cabin in the Smoky Mountains. That was a good decision. We have great memories of those times.

The kids got older and got jobs and significant others in their lives. It was hard to coordinate time off and for them to miss work for a trip during the holiday. It became a dance of schedules and often left us a two hour window to open presents and eat before one had to go to work and the other had to attend the significant other’s family dinner and present opening.

But we still had family with us. Either we headed to Alabama to visit my husband’s family or to Middle Tennessee to visit my family. My siblings are spread across the country so it didn’t happen every year but there were a few occasions over the years that we were all at my parent’s house at the same time. Then my mom passed away. Again, it was different. Someone was missing and there was no getting around it
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We tried to make it the same. Then we tried to make it different, holding Christmas at my house for Dad and my sister’s family from Louisiana. Then everyone else’s kids got older again and it became more difficult to get everyone in one place at the same time both in Alabama and for my family. Last year Dad couldn’t make it to my house but my sister’s family did. This year, I think it’s going to be almost impossible to get any of us together. My daughter is living in Atlanta working two jobs and my son works almost every holiday. At least they will be home for most of Christmas Day.

Hence my lack of Christmas Spirit. I am really not whining or feeling sorry for myself. I have a very close extended family and I realize every family goes through this. It’s my turn. I love tradition and family and stories and memories and food and games and will miss the loud discussions, the large personalities, the quiet moments, the sharing of love and family. But we will make all that happen again in a new way, maybe at Christmas, maybe at New Year’s, or maybe even in the summer months.

My son has his tree up downstairs and it’s different and beautiful – totally him. My daughter has a cute tree in her apartment in Atlanta that expresses her personality and colorful sense of design. Do I have to put up a tree? I think I do. I could sit here all day and wait for the holiday spirit to come and anoint me with the magic of Christmas. I might be sitting a long time. I think it will happen once I start the decorating, starting with the tree.

And yes, I will complain that I have to drag out all that stuff, find a place to store the “stuff” that is a part of the décor all year, and then clean up everything. And I will whine that all that has to be done again in reverse in a few weeks. But I will do it.

Christmas changes and I need to change my expectations. I’m working on it.

Shame on . . . WHO?

2010-11-24T15:14:00.003-05:00

This picture is from the Maryville Daily Times, just over in the next county but these signs are all over the East Tennessee area, all with different names to be shamed.

The signs began popping up around Knoxville well over a year ago and I paid them little mind until one showed up just down the street from my neighborhood. The sign and the two people sitting with it were positioned on a main road, up against a brick wall, across from a middle income neighborhood. The sign obviously named someone who lived in the neighborhood across from where the sign and it’s handlers were positioned.

I was curious about the situation since all the signs have different names to be shamed. I began to look into it on-line and learned that all the protests were being organized by a local carpenters union and they are protesting the use of non-union carpenters by local developers

The interesting thing is that none of the names on the signs are developers. In fact, the name on the sign above is the mayor of Maryville. In this case, there is city money being paid to a developer who uses non-union carpenters and the union objects. The mayor represents the city so his name goes up on the sign. No one driving by even knows who the developer is.

My effort to bring this up is NOT to discuss union practices or the labor issues that have arisen from this. I am just wondering how effective they are with this type of protest.

For the last year, I have driven by these signs and paid them little mind. As the weather changed, I worried about the people being out in the extreme heat or cold. I figured they must be pretty dedicated and believe in their cause but that was the extent of me thinking about the cause.

Today, as I drove on my way to work, I passed the sign close to my neighborhood. There were two people with the sign, one sitting on each end, as always. But today, on one end, there was a person in a reclining lawn chair leaned all the way back, covered by blankets and an umbrella. I couldn’t see if the person was male or female but I COULD see that they were asleep. At the other end of the sign was someone in another chair, wearing a gray hoodie with the hood pulled around their face, slumped over to the side, asleep. Don’t these people have lives?

I began to think of the ridiculousness of it all. The signs have the name of a person that is not directly responsible for what they are protesting. No one knows what it is they are protesting. If you ask, you are told “we can’t say anything except it’s a labor dispute”. These people are sleeping on the side of a main highway in horrible weather guarding a sign that no one understands and they won’t explain.

Is this really the best way to get your message out?

That Was Then, This Is Now

2010-11-21T17:49:00.002-05:00

I know I’ve been absent lately but my mind has still been going, questioning, thinking, and mostly resolving things before I take the time to write them down here. I’ve missed my blog.

I have spent some time thinking about the beginning of this blog and how different things have become in the last 3 years. In October of 2007 I began this endeavor because I loved to write. I had no aspirations of writing for a living nor did I think I was particularly good at it. I was told people enjoyed my writing but that was once a year when I sent out a holiday newsletter and shared little tidbits about our lives throughout the year. This would be different. This would have people “all up in my business”.

At the time, I made a decision that I would not write about work. That would just be stupid. I would also not give details of my children’s lives that might embarrass them at some point. I only wrote things they would be ok with reading or that their children might read about them later. I also decided that I would only share personal feelings and thoughts about others that I was okay with them reading. Beyond that, everything else was on the table and open for discussion.

I wanted to tell funny stories. I wanted to be thoughtful. I wanted to inspire.

As I read through some of my early posts, they seemed a little superficial. I held back a lot, trying to find my way, attempting to achieve balance. I’m not sure I am that different now but it is getting better. My goal was never to gain thousands of followers or to have comments in the hundreds and neither of those things happened. I have a small loyal group of folks who graciously take some time to read my thoughts. I have met other bloggers across the country that I now think of as friends although we have never met.

It’s interesting . . . the people that I thought would be the most supportive are the ones that visit the least. I don’t think my father has visited my blog three times in three years and only one of my siblings reads regularly.

When I first started sharing my life here, I had to hold back from writing every day. I didn’t want to burn out – myself or anyone who might be reading. And I didn’t want to be posting something just to fill the space. I eventually fell into a rhythm of about 3 posts per week. Over the last year I have slacked off a little and am only posting about every 10 days. I miss it.

So I am trying to figure out what I want to say again. Maybe my rules have changed, maybe not. But my plan is to post at least once each week, more if I run into something funny or interesting. I hope you continue to join me here, that you share feedback and opinions, and that you enjoy it enough to keep coming back. Even through the slow times.

High Five

2010-10-24T10:40:00.002-04:00

Have you noticed the recent development in customer service? I’m sure you have heard something like this:

“You might get a phone call asking you about your satisfaction with our service today. Is there any reason you can’t give me the highest score of 5?”

There are other versions of that conversation, some referring you to the web to complete a survey, some asking you three different ways if they answered all your questions and then asking if there is anything else they can do for you, explaining you might be surveyed.

I have known for some time that this was common practice with a few service related companies but it is expanding rapidly. Companies implement these ratings in order to improve the service to customers. They believe it allows them to give employees incentives to do better and to discipline or “weed out” employees that are not performing up to expectations. In theory, I would support that and I have seen it work.

I used to hate dealing with a certain cell phone carrier. The customer service in store and on the phone was horrible and I was considering terminating my contract for that reason alone. I complained to a family member that works for the company and he shared with me that they had started a rating system as described above. The kicker . . . if they receive less than a 5 on a customer survey, they fail. If they fail a certain number of times, they are terminated. And their plan worked. I no longer dread my interactions with employees in the store or on the phone and I have happily stayed with the company.

But there are many companies using this plan now and I have begun to dread the questions at the end of every interaction where they explain the survey. I call it the Can You Give Me A Five? conversation. It drives me crazy.

A few weeks ago I was in Atlanta opening a bank account with my daughter. The woman that helped us was completely competent and did her job. Her interactions were awkward at best and she seemed a little stressed. She was friendly but just seemed naturally awkward or uncomfortable talking to people. At the end of our time, she shared the following:

“You may receive a phone call asking about how I handled your business. If you don’t give me a 5, I fail.”

I was surprised she phrased it that way. Again, she was kind of awkward. I said something like “Wow, that’s harsh”. She went on to explain their system and that if they receive 2 fails, they are terminated. She shared that they get the results once a week on Fridays and that one of the girls in the office gets physically ill on Thursday nights, worried about how she will do. She asked if we were happy with the way she handled our business. What the heck was I supposed to say at that point? I just said “Yes”.

My issue with this whole thing is the fact that I never give the highest or lowest scores on surveys unless I really feel it’s warranted. I must be terribly impressed or unimpressed to give those ratings.

I think this puts the employee and the customer in such an awkward and unfair position. Companies are putting employees in the position to ask for the highest rating. But what if I feel, although they did nothing wrong whatsoever, they don’t deserve it because it was not exceptional? The companies are putting me in the position of deciding whether or not that employee should keep their job. As a result, the survey is not effective if people are not rating service accurately and it becomes worthless.

A customer’s rating isn’t always about how the job is done. It could be about the way an employee looks, what country they are from, what kind of mood the customer is in, or some other uncontrollable factor on which people base their opinions of others.

I would not have given the woman at the bank a 5. As I said, it was awkward but she adequately did the job so I would probably have given her a 3 or 4. I would have hoped that her supervisors could coach her into feeling more comfortable with people but it may just be a personality trait that cannot be changed. But it would not have, in any way, caused me to not return to that bank. In fact, if not for her explanation of the survey, I would have completely forgotten the interaction with her that day. And I would have returned to that bank and branch as I needed to as a loyal customer.

What do you think about this practice?

In My Own Company

2010-10-10T18:58:00.000-04:00

Today was 10/10/10 and I wanted to document my day in photos. I didn't really have anything planned and that sometimes leads to sitting in my big pink chair watching shows from last week on the DVR. Now what kind of interesting photos can you take from your chair, right?

The day started quietly with coffee and preparation for a training I have to do on Monday. It was quiet in my house, the windows were open and a cool breeze was coming through. I considered what I would be having for breakfast and decided today was a good day to head downtown to one of my favorite restaurants for brunch. I thought about waking up my son to see if he wanted to go but he had only been asleep for a few hours, being 24 years old and all. I thought about calling friends but then decided that today was a good day for me to spend with me.

I dressed and threw on some makeup, grabbed my camera and headed down to Market Square, one of my favorite areas of Knoxville, the site of The Tomato Head. The Tomato Head is a funky little restaurant that has gained a huge following with their support of local farmers and business and their amazing food. They have vegetarian, vegan, and meat options, a wonderful weekend brunch and great pizzas. They recently expanded their brunch menu and, after seeing the options online, I couldn't wait to try it out. Today was the day.

I had the Biscuits and Gravy which was actually a split biscuit topped with scrambled eggs, cheddar cheese, Benton's bacon, and homemade gravy over all. I am not normally a fan of gravy on top of eggs but this was one of the best dishes I have had in a while. I seriously considered licking the plate. I could have eaten another order but my waistline would not have been happy with me.

After brunch I hung out in Market Square for a while, enjoying the beautiful weather and taking a few photos. I love our downtown and have considered selling my house and moving to one of the many loft/condos that have been going into renovated buildings all over the downtown area. It would be crazy for me to do that right now as I only have about 7 years until my house is paid off but I really do love the renaissance of downtown Knoxville and the options that are available.

One of my favorite stores, Abode, in Market Square is going to be closing so I headed there to check out the sales but didn't buy anything. I walked through Krutch Park over to Gay Street and decided to kill some time before going to a movie by enjoying some coffee outside one of the cafes and chose The Downtown Grind. They have small tables on the sidewalk with little vases of fresh flowers on each table. I enjoyed a Hazelnut Latte and enjoyed eavesdropping on conversations of all the people taking the CityPeople.org tour of all the downtown living options. Hmmmmmmm, do I really want to go to a movie or wouldn't I just love to take a tour of the downtown lofts, homes, and condos? I decided against the tour, fearing I might make an impulse buy and would then need to move my furniture.

I finished my coffee and walked down to the theater to purchase my ticket for "The Social Network", the movie about the creation of Facebook. I am amazed that I still spend the money on a movie and popcorn in a theater. The matinee ticket was $7.50 and the popcorn and bottled water I got inside was $11.75. Why, why, why do I do that? It's not like I can't wait until the movie comes out on DVD and I certainly don't need the popcorn. But I have always loved watching movies in the theater. And I just can't watch a movie in a theater without that hot, salty movie theater popcorn. It's like a drug. The movie was good and I would recommend it, especially if you are a Facebook user.

I realized when I got home that I had spent the whole day by myself. I had not spoken more than probably 30 words today and all of them were said in ordering food, drinks, or tickets. But I enjoyed my day to myself, taking photos, enjoying the city in which I live.

It was a good day.

Sudden Concern

2010-09-28T19:53:00.000-04:00

Has anyone NOT heard of the documentary "Waiting For Superman"? If you have not heard of it, you must not own a television. No criticism about the TV but this movie is really all over the news and talk shows right now.

I am SO glad!

No matter your opinion on the points made in this documentary, whether you agree or disagree, whether it makes you angry or you find yourself passionately in agreement . . . at least we are talking about it.

What is "Waiting For Superman"? It is Davis Guggenheim's look at our nation's education system and why it might be broken. It takes a hard look at public schools, charter schools, lottery systems, good teachers, bad teachers, parents, administrators, teacher's unions, politicians, and everything related to American schools and the fact that our children are failing and graduation rates are dropping. It is a call to action.

I am so excited to see a discussion about this because I have been saying this for years. Before you make any assumptions and start sending me hateful emails, allow me to give you some background.

My mother was a teacher. She taught high school English and adult education. Both my parents had master's degrees. Education was a priority in our family.

I have made my life about education . . . early childhood education. I have been a private kindergarten teacher, worked as a preschool teacher, managed a childcare center and now am a district manager for the nation's largest provider of early childhood education. I was raised in public and Department of Defense school systems.

My children went to public schools. I was a huge supporter of public schools and all that goes along with them. My children didn't really apply themselves. I take full responsibility for that as a parent. We didn't push too hard but they always pulled through and they seemed to mostly enjoy school. They were smart and their grades were okay. It worked. Until my children went to high school. The schools and their ways started to worry me when they were in middle school but it was full blown frustration by the time they were into the 9th grade.

I have written about my frustration before. You can read some of that here. In summary, both my children wanted to drop out at their senior year because they were failing and we could get no help from the school. Yes . . . it was partly because of their lack of dedication. But there is so much more to the story. And there was NO way I would allow them to drop out.

With my son, I changed him to private school for his senior year. It was a great option for him and he excelled, graduating on time. His public high school had told me there was nothing they could do. My daughter was told the same thing. Nothing we can do. I called the school board and was told about an option within the school system where she could go another location and work at her own pace through an online system and with a teacher in classroom, as fast or as slow as she wanted to go. But if she learned quickly and applied herself, she could graduate on stage with the others in her class. Her school knew nothing of this option within it's own district. My daughter worked hard and, in fact, finished early. She graduated with her class as scheduled.

I have listened to the discussion on this film over the last week. Everyone has a solution. I do not. I have heard we need to extend the school day by an hour. If kids hate being there or have a poor teacher, more time in the schoolday is not going to help them. Making the testing more difficult is not going to enhance a child's ability to learn if you are a kid who does poorly on tests or has a learning disability. Again, I don't have an answer but I think it starts with respect. Respect for children, respect for teachers, respect for parents. When we first speak to others with respect, then we can find a solution. It's a start.

What ideas do you have?

Changing Light

2010-09-19T17:29:00.004-04:00

There have been few signs of Fall arriving but they are starting to come in the form of small, subtle hints
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The changing light, that amazing golden glow that betrays the heat that still lingers. The brightness is still there but there is a softness to it now, the kind of softness that makes you look out the window and think it’s chilly outside, makes you want to eat chili. But once you venture out, the 90 degree temperature tells you otherwise. How disappointing.

The mornings have taken on a slight chill in the air. It feels refreshing. It gives you hope that there is a season change coming, some relief from need to run air conditioners and fans at the same time.

And this morning, the first tiny acorn greeted me at my doorstep as I let the dogs outside for their morning tour around the front yard. It was small and alone, having been the first to leave the safety of the oak tree just to the right of my front door. There will be more. Many more. Soon I will be cursing the acorns as they ping off my roof and my front steps. But this morning, I was glad to see it.

Characters Everywhere

2010-08-24T18:20:00.002-04:00

My daughter and I talked while eating crepes at the French Market Cafe this weekend – I had strawberries and cream while she enjoyed the butter and sugar style. We did a lot of eating and talking this weekend. Lots of different topics. Lots of things discovered. It was good.

One of the areas we covered was the number of “characters” that abound in the Knoxville and East Tennessee area. You know what I mean . . . the quirky, funny, possibly a little crazy or just plain weird folks that seem to be a part of everyone’s home town. The ones that, if you haven’t actually met them, you have heard about them.

My daughter was comparing and contrasting Knoxville and Atlanta where she now lives. In her words, “One thing’s for sure . . . Atlanta doesn’t have near as many characters as Knoxville.”

At first, I leapt to the defense of my hometown. “Atlanta has them, they are just spread out or unnoticed because of the shear size and pace of the community”. Then we talked about it and I began to change my mind. Every town has one. But we have a lot more than one. We really do have a lot of characters. Maybe it’s just Tennessee in general.

You’ve read about our Southern quirkiness in many novels - there’s Boo Radley from To Kill a Mockingbird and Forrest Gump – and then there’s TV – Ernest T. Bass from The Andy Griffith Show, any of the Beverly Hillbillies or The Dukes of Hazzard.

We have them here. You have read of my fascination with the late moonshiner Popcorn Sutton. If not, you can read about him here or here or just Google his name. Popcorn was quite the character on the surface. Under the beard and overalls was a human being with lots and lots of faults, some scary, some sad, some obscene. But we seem to forgive all that if you’ve got a good story.

We have the man who has become known as the Bikini Man, an older gentleman who is in the process of gender reassignment surgery. He walks on one of the busiest main roads in Knoxville every morning. He wears a giant blond Dolly Parton style wig, a sports bra and spandex biker shorts on a good day . . . I have literally seen him wearing a bikini on occasion. He also rides a pink scooter if he has further to go.

Then there’s what has become affectionately known as The Fellini Kroger. It’s a regular Kroger grocery store but the variety of characters shopping there seem to be straight out of a Fellini movie – surreal. Weird things seem to happen during each visit – stories of a toe found in the parking lot, sightings of morbidly obese 3 foot tall albino twins in overalls, the man shopping in his tighty whiteys and tube socks. There is even a Facebook fan page devoted to the store called Friends of the Fellini Kroger.

I could go on, there are many more examples. We love our characters here. Hopefully we leave them alone or when necessary, get them help. I’m sure Atlanta has them too. It is the South after all.

Travel Bug

2010-08-08T14:24:00.003-04:00

I was listening recently to a radio show in which the host asked people to call in and share their favorite US travel destinations and/or hidden gems at those locations. It really made me think about some of my past experiences traveling and some of the places friends have shared with me. So here are some of my favorites:
Faves:

Hopkinsville, KY – Ferrell’s Hamburgers. I have shared my passion for Ferrell’s before on this blog. That passion has not diminished.
Upstate NY – The Thousand Islands. We visited my grandmother’s home town of Ogdensburg, NY when I was about 12 and toured the Thousand Islands. We took a boat tour down the St. Lawrence River and saw all the tiny islands, some with large Victorian mansions, some too small for a house. It is an amazingly beautiful place and I would love to spend a family vacation there with my kids.
Panama City Beach/Laguna Beach, FL – Thomas’ Donuts. They have been around since 1946 and I think the building has not changed much since then. You can get donuts, breakfast and lunch and it is definitely beach food. Our favorite is the breakfast items and the yummy donuts. It is directly across from the beach, a walk-up place with a small inside and air conditioned dining room. Bring cash cause they don’t accept credit cards and be prepared to stand in line.
Gatlinburg, TN – Roaring Fork Motor Nature Trail. Most people who come to the Smoky Mountains are very aware of the National Park, Cades Cove, and the very touristy Gatlinburg area. But smack in the middle of downtown, you turn down a side road, go a short distance and turn off into one of the most beautiful areas in the mountains. It feels like you are stepping back in time as you pass the old homes and the giant trees. You can follow the small, one-way road through or park at one of the narrow pull-off areas and explore. And you should spend the 50 cents for the guidebook for sale at the beginning of the trail.
Gulf Shores, AL – The Pink Pony Pub. Many great memories were created in this fun, beachside hangout. On a trip with friends, we christened ourselves the “Pink Pony Dancers” after a few pina coladas. This is the place my daughter ate her first oyster on the half shell at the age of 6. And later, if I remember correctly, it’s the place where she got her first taste of a pina colada. Fun beach food, a great deck, and live music. The ultimate beach experience.

Now it’s your turn! Share your favorite hidden vacation gem.

Confessions of a High School Homecoming Queen

2010-08-01T11:21:00.002-04:00

So, I’ve been thinking lately . . . about high school. Yes, it was a LONG time ago and who really wants to go back, right? It was a time of awkwardness, teasing, and trying to be one of the “cool kids”, right?

I have a confession to make. Although all of us were kind of awkward, I never got teased and, horror of horrors, I was kind of one of the “cool kids”. I know you are mildly mortified and you can just go ahead and judge me right now but I feel a little bit of a need to defend my high school experience.

I loved high school. I know that’s weird but I did. I’m not saying it was easy. I went to one very large high school in Virginia for 2 1/2 years where I was completely comfortable. I had friends whom I loved and I was involved in a lot of activities at the school. Then my family moved to Germany in the middle of my junior year. I had to start over in a new country and a new, smaller school with people who had totally different experiences in life. I was naturally a shy person, not one to jump in and approach people with whom I had no comfort level.

The first day, I searched out the basketball team and asked to try out. I had been playing on basketball teams since 6th grade and it was the start of the season at this new school. I was allowed to play and met several people who are still my lifelong friends.

I learned quickly that things were different here. I had rarely lived in a military base environment so I was unaware of what it meant to be an “officer’s kid” in this new school. As far as I was concerned, my father’s rank had nothing to do with who I was or with whom I was supposed to hang out. I liked people with whom I had things in common, not because their dad had the same rank as my dad. Once we got past that craziness, I started to make friends and since kids in the school were used to people coming and going, the “new girl” label went away quickly.

I don’t remember any of the “mean girls” antics by anyone. I remember everyone having a “live and let live” kind of attitude. We were all different but we pretty much got along. I do remember a couple of times at school dances where we discussed people’s dancing or outfit or general behavior but it was not one clique versus another and once the dance was over, the gossip was over.

Since most of the people I went to high school with are on Facebook and this blog feeds into Facebook, please tell me if I have selective memory. I personally did not experience the stereo-typical horrible high school experience. I don’t believe I created that experience for anyone either but again, please set me straight friends.

And yes, I was homecoming queen. I was also the senior class treasurer, was voted “best personality”, and was nominated for prom queen where I lost to one of my best friends. And all of that means nothing today. I’m honored by it all but, just as my dad’s rank had no bearing on who I was, all of those things have nothing to do with who I am today. I have to prove myself as an individual each day and high school is done.

Many of my friends today say they hated high school. They talk about the experience in the cafeteria, the way the “cool kids” made fun of them, the feeling of being on the outside. I listen and feel a little guilty. While I didn’t experience that, do people I went to school with feel the same way? Did I contribute to that? Gosh, I hope not. I tried to be nice to everyone unless they gave me some serious reason to stay away from them.

These friends are still affected by that experience to this day, in both good ways and bad. I guess I am too.

What was your high school experience?

Boundaries

2010-07-25T10:52:00.002-04:00

I read several blogs that are written by moms. Depending on the age of the children and the desire for their privacy, the bloggers use various tactics to discuss activities with their children or grandchildren. Some use the child’s name, some just say daughter or son, some use the child’s age (the six year old, the 13 year old), while others give them fictitious and funny names such as Thing 1 and Thing 2 or Scooby Snacks.

When I first started blogging, I used my children’s first names. I then learned of some of the dangers of the internet and, because I talk a lot about my kids on this blog, I looked for options to discuss them while still respecting their privacy as individuals. I also use pictures of my children on the blog so it was important that I not give too much information. I eventually settled on the daughter/son thing since I have one of each and it was easy to use.

What do you think? Does it depend on the age of the child? If they are adult children, does it make a difference? If you are a blogger, what tactic do you use? Have you ever had an experience that caused you to need to hide your children’s names? I would love to hear your thoughts.

To Market, To Market

2010-07-10T21:23:00.002-04:00

In an effort to gain some inspiration for my photography, I joined a few groups on Flickr that run themed challenges. One of the groups, Echo, is running the theme “Market”. I had yoga this morning and dance class at noon so my plan was to head to the Market Squar Farmers Market when it opened at 9am to get some fresh produce and take some photos for the theme.

I had plenty around me to give me inspiration for the theme – Market Square, the farmers market, the colorful produce, a clothing store called Black Market. Later in the afternoon, my son and I headed back downtown to see some of his photos in an art show. We also stopped in at The French Market (yet another market for inspiration) for crepes – his was turkey, spinach, artichoke and mine was Nutella and bananas – oh my goodness!

I am a happy girl. I have been happy all day. I love it when I have a project or a challenge for my photography. It’s like someone turned on a light switch and I smile more, stand up straighter, have more patience, and feel more creative. It’s better than drugs!

So here some of those photographs from today.

What Would You Do?

2010-07-01T22:49:00.002-04:00

I was listening to a talk show on my Sirius XM radio today. There was a discussion taking place regarding the following scenario:

If you were purchasing something in a store, the cashier handed you the change and there was $20 too much, what would you do?

Without hesitation, I thought to myself, “I would give it back”.

People were calling in and giving their thoughts and I was amazed at some of the rationalization people had for keeping the money. I shouldn’t be amazed that people rationalize their actions but they honestly don’t see anything wrong with keeping the money. Nothing at all. Yes, I’m judging them.

One guy said it depended on what type of store he was in. He said if he was in a small bodega that was just scraping by, he would return the money. But if he was in a higher end store or a corporate chain, he would keep it, they don’t need it. Dude also said it depended on the cashier. If the cashier was nice and friendly, he would probably return the $20 but if the cashier was grumpy or indifferent, he would keep it. Wow.

Someone also said it depended on their financial situation at the time. If they needed it, they would keep it.

What part of “It’s not yours!” do people not understand? Don’t get me wrong, I am not naive. I would think about my needs and the greedy part of me would want to keep it. But what you think about is not nearly as important as what you do. And I am a strong believer in Karma. I have a clear idea of right and wrong.

Years ago, I was given $10 too much when I cashed my check at the drive-through at a bank. I had been waiting in line for about 15 minutes and as I drove away, I realized I had been given too much money. I thought about driving away . . . it was only $10 and the line was really long and I could really use that $10. But, because my mom had worked for a short time as a bank teller when I was younger, I knew that the teller could possibly lose her job. And returning the money was the right thing to do. So I got back in the long line with the same teller and gave her the $10 back. She was very surprised but grateful. I felt both stupid and proud. But later that day, I was shopping for maternity clothes. I found a top and decided to buy it. When I got to the cashier, she said “Oh, this one isn’t marked on sale but it is $10 off”. Hmmmmmmmmmm, sorta got my $10 anyway.

So now that I have totally judged those people that honestly said they would keep it, what would you do?

Coming Home

2010-06-27T17:45:00.002-04:00

It was wedding weekend. My daughter’s friend was getting married and she was a bridesmaid. It would be the first time she has come home from Atlanta since moving there in April and she was looking forward to seeing her family and other friends and she was bringing her boyfriend along. There was the wedding, parties with friends, and, never having seen old Mom dance in public, she would get to watch me perform at Pridefest on Saturday with my dance troupe.

It’s hard to go home once you leave. You come home with expectations and things don’t always go as planned. The time available to spend with her friends was short. Their schedules didn’t line up with hers this weekend. And after waiting for 20 minutes in the blazing hot sun for the dance performance to start, she and my son ran to go pick up their waiting lunch and missed the performance. So she still has not seen her old Mom dance in public.

While she was busy with her wedding obligations, her boyfriend and I got to spend time together. I have known him since he was a small child but we really don’t know each other. We didn’t do anything special but we had fun and now have a comfort level with each other that was not there before. I approve. He is a great guy and he fits right in with our crazy little family. So it was a good weekend. When we weren’t doing the wedding things we watched soccer, ate out, saw a movie, chatted about music and old times.

And then it was Sunday. It started early this morning. I was dreading her to leaving but I didn’t say anything. She went about packing quietly. “We need to leave about noon” she mentioned. “I don’t really want to go”. I didn’t say anything. I know she misses us but I know she can’t stay.

We went to get something to eat before they left. We talked about her not being able to see her best friend for more than a few minutes. She said she wished she could stay a few more days. I told her we would plan another weekend when there was not so much to do, when we can all just hang out. We joked that she and her boyfriend could spend six months in Atlanta and six months here. They dropped me off at the house before leaving. I gave her an old iron from the garage and she packed up the Wii and Playstation to take back with her.

I really had to work hard to keep the tears away so she wouldn’t see. This time was harder than when she first moved. I miss her. I stood in the driveway as they drove away and I saw her cry. I can’t watch her cry. I tried not to wipe the tears away until after they were down the street.

It’s hard to watch your child struggle even when you know it’s a good thing for them. She is in a new city and starting to make new friends. It’s hard to pay rent and utilities and insurance and car payments and buy groceries. It’s easier to be taken care of at home where there is a mom and a big brother that love you. It’s comforting to have your friends around you that you have known since middle school. But she loves being in Atlanta and she loves that boy. So she will figure out how to do it and eventually we will both do it without tears.

Maybe.

Not On My Bucket List

2010-06-18T22:03:00.002-04:00

I have heard a great deal of discussion lately about Bucket Lists. Seems like everyone has one. As people talk about what they did last weekend or what they plan to do this summer you hear “yeah, that’s on my bucket list too”. I hear it a lot. Maybe it’s my age.

For those unaware, a bucket list is a list of things you want to do before you “kick the bucket”. I don’t have a bucket list. At least not a formal type of list. I have a lot of things I want to do before I die but those things change as I get older. I have also done a lot of what I wanted to do when I was younger. Maybe one day I will sit down and make a list
.
As I listened today to three people discuss items on their bucket lists, I very quickly came up with a list of things I have no intention of doing. Evah! So here are 5 items you will NEVER see on my bucket list:

Jumping off of or out of anything over 5 feet high. No planes, no buildings, no bungee platforms, no bridges. Fear is good. It keeps you safe. Strapping a backpack to my back that contains giant piece of shiny cloth that is supposed to make me float to the ground when I jump out of a flying airplane will never be on my list. I’ve seen those Dateline stories! Neither will strapping a giant rubber band to my ankles and launching myself head first over the side of a 30 story building. Never, ever!
Eating exotic foods. Don’t get me wrong, I’m pretty adventurous when it comes to food but I have a pretty definitive line that I am not crossing. Bugs are meant for squishing. Chicken feet are meant for transporting chickens around the barnyard. Sheep’s eyeballs are meant to allow them to see the farmer coming after them with the carving knife so they can run away! If any of those things were meant for eating they would sell them at Kroger and Whole Foods.
Hiking or climbing to the top of giant mountains. I live at the foot of the Smoky Mountains in the Appalachian Mountain Range. The mountains are absolutely beautiful. I love to look at them and to be a part of them. I even hike and climb around a bit. But there is no peak anywhere that is waiting for a flag with my name on it.
Interacting with wild animals. No desire to go on a safari to see lions or tigers. No desire to swim with sharks. Or try to outrun a bull. Or ride an elephant. Most of those animals have large teeth or large pointy things sticking out of their heads.
Anything that involves running any distance. I am not, nor will I ever be like Forest Gump. No desire to run across the country or even really across the street. A marathon holds no interest and most certainly, neither does a triathalon. Nope, not even a 5k although I have actually done one of those. Cars were invented to cover long distances for a reason.

There are only 5 things I can think of so that still leaves a wide variety of choices that could actually make it to the list. So . . . what’s NOT on your bucket list?

Nope, Still Not Any Easier

2010-06-03T10:17:00.000-04:00

I keep thinking that this day will come and pass by unnoticed. That hasn't happened yet. It's been 9 years today. The anxiety starts a few days before, coming on unexepectadly then fading. Then when June 3rd arrives, that feeling in the pit of my stomach is there all day.

I relive the events of that day 9 years ago. It was a fairly normal day even though the kids and I were in a different city, helping out my family. I go through the day, the phone conversations and then the phone calls unanswered, the night spent awake and worried. Why doesn't he call me back? Where is he? I'm not sure why I choose to torture myself that way.

I thought it would be easier by now. Nine years is a long time. Life did get easier but June 3rd is not.

I don't know if it ever will be.

Out Of The Box And Out On The Town

2010-05-23T19:42:00.002-04:00

Have you ever seen so much eyeliner on one person? Go ahead and say it, I admit I went a little overboard on the “smoky eye” look. But it was all done in an effort to get out of that “mommy box” and into a new way of having fun.

I have been going out with friends more now that my children are grown and basically on their own. I have so much freedom now and I have no intention of sitting at home and waiting for someone to invite me to join them and to rescue me from boredom. I’ve been there, done that. I have to rescue myself or just put myself out there. I am not a “bar” kind of girl and I can never see myself hanging out in a club but an occasional night with a group of friends in a club sounds like fun as long as it doesn’t get out of hand. I’m a little old for that.

Through my dance classes, I have met some amazing women. They do things. There is no competition. There is a LOT of support. We are very different people but we enjoy so many of the same things and we motivate each other. They have motivated me to get the heck out and do stuff. Stuff I would not normally do. And I’m having so much fun.

On Friday night, our friend Kisa was performing as a part of her burlesque troupe Salome Cabaret. She is one of the founding members and has been recently selected as a performer at The Burlesque Hall of Fame in Las Vegas, one of only 12 people in the country to be selected. It’s kind of like the Miss America of burlesque from what I’ve been told. Kisa and her troupe have been teaching classes and Friday night was the class graduation. She invited us and we happily accepted, excited about this new experience. I had been to one show before but the other girls had not ever attended a burlesque show.

We are girls who like to dress up. I don’t actually own any “dress up” clothes. I mostly buy clothes for work or play and since I have lost weight, I had nothing. So Friday afternoon, I went trolling the mall for something sparkly but casual. And I just happened to pass by a really cute pair of quasi-gladiator sandals with a great heel height that would work for a night out or for work. With a sparkly casual shirt and those cute heels in my bag, I headed for home to get ready.

Have you ever had one of those days when everything just worked? I touched up my makeup . . . okay, the smoky eye thing was a little more than a touch up. I threw on a dangly pair of earrings. Since I have been growing out my hair, some days it works and some days it just hangs there. I didn’t have a lot of time so I just plugged in the curling iron and hoped for the best. I threw a couple of curls in the top layers, shook my hair forward and flipped it back. Oh my goodness . . . I think I might have looked a little bit hot!!!

There is something about feeling good inside that allows you to put off a little bit of a glow. I felt good and I think I was pretty much glowing when I went out the door. And I felt that way all night. It really was not an ego thing. At all. It was more of a confidence thing. And it felt good.

The show was amazing – much better than the first show I had been to. The crowd was great. We had a great time together. As we were sitting through intermission, one of my friends was asking about my son whose birthday party was the next night at a local club. She asked how old my son was and I replied that he is 24. She said “You are too hot to have a 24 year old” and I laughed. The man that was sitting next to me said “I’m glad you said that ‘cause I was was going to say it”. I said thank you and laughed again. It was just a teensy bit creepy but it was nice to hear anyway. I think it was the glow.

Today I am back to a normal amount of eyeliner and wearing my shorts, t-shirt and flip-flops. There is something to be said for normal life too.

Happy Mother’s Day

2010-05-09T20:08:00.002-04:00

Whether you believe Mother’s Day is a commercial creation that originated with greeting card companies or that the day was created to genuinely honor motherhood, Mother’s Day is a special day. Over the years, Mother’s Day has changed in many ways for me and none has ever been as different as it was today.

When I was younger, I wanted nothing more than to make my mom happy on this special day. She was my hero. I wanted to draw her a picture or make her something special out of construction paper and crayons. As I grew older and more self – centered, I never seemed to pay attention to what she might want but ended up buying her what I thought she needed or what a commercial showed me ALL mothers want. I mean, if I had paid attention I would have realized that my mother never wore anything but Shalimar perfume but I got her a small bottle of whatever the latest cheap perfume was that was being advertised for Mother’s Day that year.

Later I became a mother and the day became about me. Since we never lived close by, I always called Mom to wish her a great day but I was focused on me and my kids. My kids picked me flowers, drew pictures, made me breakfast and made me feel so special that day. I felt like I was their hero just as my mom was mine.

Today was different. Mom has been gone for five years. And for the first time ever, my kids are not at home on Mother’s Day. My daughter is living in Atlanta and my son is working. My daughter called me early today and my son and I spent a few hours together this morning before he left for work.   My siblings texted me to wish me Happy Mother’s Day as did many friends and even some of my kids’ friends. I have had the day to myself which is fine but it is different. I’m not sad or lonely. Ok, maybe just a little, but it really made me think about this day and what it means now.

I hope my mom knew how much we all loved her. I think she did. I know how much my kids love me because they tell me and show me all the time. What I thought about today was that there are so many mothers in my life that I can honor. My mother-in-law and her sisters and sister - in - law have always made me feel a part of their family even long after my husband died. My aunt has reminded me that she learned so much from my mother and she continues to keep me close. I always thought she was the coolest mom and now her kids do too. Most of my friends are mothers and when we talk about our kids, we all learn from each other and divulge stories we might never tell others. My sisters and I discuss both our childhood as well as parenting and we share advice and remind each other what Mom would have done. I read bloggers who are moms and they make me laugh and cry.

So I realized today that Mother’s Day is not really a day about me or my mom. It is about all the mothers in my life, the women who have influenced me in the past as well as those that touch me every day. It’s about all mothers, and women in our lives, even if they are not mothers yet.

Happy Mother’s Day.

Pay It Backwards

2010-05-02T19:59:00.002-04:00

A few years ago, there was a movement that began in drive-thru lanes. I believe it actually started at Starbucks. The idea was to pay for the order of the person in the car behind you. Just to be nice. Of course, the person in that car, because their order had been paid, then paid for the car behind them. Servers working the window said they had seen it pass through 7 or 8 cars at a time. It was inspiring. And I vowed to do this myself.

I have long been fascinated by the Random Acts of Kindness movement. I try to be a nice person, to help others. I try to treat others as I would like to be treated. I open doors for people and leave the change in the “take a penny, leave a penny” bowl, I tip well, I do things for friends and family, I give to charity. But rarely do I do something so direct for someone for absolutely no reason. Mostly because I struggle when people do something nice for me.

Last year, my daughter and I were eating at a Japanese hibachi style restaurant. It was a slow Sunday evening and they were not busy. There was a family at our table that appeared to be parents, their grown child and the grown child’s spouse. They were apparently frequent diners as they spoke to all the servers and the manager came over an talked with them, using their first names. They ordered several appetizers, sushi, and one of the most expensive dinner combinations that included a lobster tail. My daughter and I were friendly but mostly we were involved in our own conversation. When our dinners were prepared, the cook placed a lobster tail on a plate and placed it in front of my daughter and me, indicating that our dining neighbor had purchased it for us. Surprised, we thanked him several times and enjoyed it. Sort of. As we left, we thanked him again.

Later in the car, we discussed the incident. I admitted that I felt a little suspicious, a little guilty, a little offended even. Suspicious – why would he do that? What does he want? Guilty – I should do something for him. How do I repay this? Offended – does he think I can’t afford lobster? What if I am allergic to lobster? Who does he think he is? But in the end, I just said “thank you” because I didn’t really know what else to do. My daughter said she felt all the same things. We had a very long discussion about feelings and our tendency to over-think things.

Some time later I was sitting in the line at Chick-fil-A, thinking. It went like this . . . I should pay for the man behind me. I am lucky that I have a job and a home and the ability to pay for someone else’s dinner at a drive-thru. Then I started to think way too much. . . That man behind me is in a huge truck. It looks new. What if he is offended? What if he thinks I want something? There are so many people that need help, why should I help a man in a giant, expensive truck at Chick-fil-A? Stop thinking and just do it. You are over-analyzing the situation and judging him. The goal is to just be nice. Maybe he is rich and grumpy and this act would cause him to be nice to some other poor person tomorrow.

And by the time I got to the window to pay, I had talked myself out of it. Then I spent the next few hours feeling stupid and a little guilty for turning a random act of kindness into something altogether stupid and even a little unkind.

I shared this story with my daughter and friend Robin. A few days later, my daughter was in a drive-thru and decided to make up for my craziness. She had a small order so she decided to pay for the person behind her. She told the server at the window who thought she was just so sweet. My daughter felt happy. Ahhhhhh, this is the way it’s supposed to be. Then the server told her the total for the car behind her; $12.56. (I don’t really remember how much it was but it was like 4 times what her order was.) She said she thought she was paying for one person and didn’t consider that there might be more people in the car. Suddenly, she was a little ticked. I think her exact words were “this idea sucks!” When she shared this with Robin and me, we all laughed at our experiences and decided that we needed to find another way to be nice to people.

I think Robin did it right though. A few months ago, she was in line at a convenience store. There was an older woman in line in front of her and it was taking a long time. The woman was going through her wallet and pockets, trying to find every penny and she was still short of the total. The clerk was waiting and the others in line were getting impatient. Robin stepped forward and paid the difference, just a few dollars. The woman thanked her with tears in her eyes. Robin told her it was not problem. The woman waited outside the store and when Robin came out out, thanked her again, asking what she could do to repay her. Robin told her that she hoped the woman will get the opportunity to help someone else one day and that would be thanks enough.

Robin felt great, the woman was grateful. Robin saw someone in need and she helped them. She didn’t over think it or worry about the feelings of the person she helped. She just did it because it was the right thing to do. That is truly a random act of kindness.

Home Is Where Your Heart Is . . .

2010-04-27T20:37:00.003-04:00

. . . And my daughter’s heart is in Georgia. So is her home, her new apartment to be exact.

We spent the weekend moving her to the Atlanta area. Moving, unpacking, buying inexpensive furniture and assembling it, picking up groceries and household supplies. She is still working on decorating but she is well on her way to taking it from a standard one bedroom apartment to a cozy little home.

It seems funny for me to say “let’s head to YOUR house”. It’s weird for her too. She scolded me for leaving out the coffee creamer. She scolded her boyfriend for leaving a bowl in the sink. That made me laugh after all the times I had to throw away things she left out of the fridge or recover crusty dishes from her bedroom. This is going to be interesting.

I am excited for her and this new adventure. I am excited to see how this will go. I am excited to see the things she will do to make this work the way she wants it to work. I am excited to see the person she will become and how she will make it through the struggles. I’m proud of her.

But I do miss her.

Chased By The Wiener Mobile

2010-04-18T15:45:00.002-04:00

As I drove down the interstate today, I was followed by a giant red and yellow wiener mobile. How weird is that? After the last two weeks I’ve had, the wiener mobile is the least weird thing that has happened to me.

The weirdness started with the full moon and has not gone away. Over the last two weeks, I have:

helped my daughter lease an apartment
wiped out my savings account to help both my kids
learned way too much about the legal system to help someone out
backed up in my driveway, into my son’s car
watched my dad kiss his old high school girlfriend in a play
rehearsed to dance in a public performance
looked for a lost dog
found out I will be serving on jury duty
had a gold crown fall off my tooth
and several more things that I have already moved on from.

I’m tired and I’m hoping things will return to normal soon. Whatever normal is . . .

The Nest

2010-04-03T10:07:00.002-04:00

It’s not empty yet. It won’t be any time soon. But it has a lot of empty space right now.

Daughter is in Atlanta for three and a half days each week and in Knoxville for three and a half days. She already has a job in Atlanta and has been working in both cities for over a month now and has an apartment she will move into at the end of this month. Son is still here but due to his schedule, we usually pass each other in the neighborhood streets as I arrive home and he leaves.

I am not sad. Okay, I am a little. But it’s kind of exciting too. This is an opportunity for me to find out who I am. I have been a wife and a mom for so long that I’m not really sure who Tere is anymore. I have loved being all those things but they consumed me for the last 25 years and became how I defined myself. I liked it that way. I loved being married and I loved being a mom. But who am I now?

I have not been a wife for nine years. I will always be a mom. This transition time of gradually emptying the nest has given me time to think. I am getting out more and trying to get out of my “mom box”. And I kind of like it.

I am meeting new people through my dance classes, people who are fun and smart and enjoy the things I enjoy. I am going out with long-time loyal friends without our kids. I am participating in girl’s night out – margaritas and Mexican food, a burlesque show, what’s next? As I arrived home at 12:30am last weekend, Son was calling me to ask if I was okay. He asked, “When is the last time I was home before you, Mom?” Hmmmmmm, not sure, not sure.

I guess we will find out.

Discoveries

2010-03-19T18:47:00.002-04:00

I have been at home now for two days, unable to work because of a minor case of shingles. While at the beach last week, I contracted what turned out to be shingles and because they are contagious to those that have not had chicken-pox and pregnant women and I work with small children and pregnant women, I have not been able to work for the last two days.

Today, as I was catching up on my blog reading, I had plenty of time to let the internet take me where it may and I spent hours reading and researching and finding new and interesting stuff.

It started with a blog I read regularly, The Sunsphere is not a Wigshop, and this post which led to this article questioning whether my home city of Knoxville is Appalachian. I have lots of opinions on this topic of Appalachia and it’s people so, although the piece is very long, I had plenty of time to read it and I did. Do people really think that ALL people in East Tennessee are poor, uneducated, drug-addicted and toothless? Really? Although it’s a stereotype and not that simple, this idea was interesting to me. I have lived all over the United States and the world. There are poor, uneducated, drug-addicted, toothless people in every culture, in every city, in every state, in every country. I have seen them. To paint a region of the country with so broad a brush is just plain ignorant. There are well educated, successful, amazing people in my region just as there are everywhere. But it would also be ignorant to ignore that the reality of the stereotype does exist here as well as across the country. The article brings up some very interesting points and I am going to keep looking at this issue and learning more.

As a part of that Wigsphere blog post, I also looked further into the local musician RB Morris who is quoted on the poster pictured. His name sounded familiar and I seem to remember some friends recommending him. Turns out he is a talented poet, songwriter, singer, and playwright. After browsing his website and googling more info on him, I downloaded his music from ITunes and I am a real fan. Here he is singing his song “Empire”.

As it turns out, while learning about RB Morris, I learned he wrote a play about James Agee, the Pulitzer Prize winning author of “A Death In The Family” who happens to be from Knoxville. Morris’ play was entitled “The Man Who Lives Here Is Loony” and it suddenly occurred to me that I have a photo that I took in Market Square of a poster in a window with that very title. I had no idea why it was there but thought it was quirky and unusual. Now I know what it was. Turns out, the phrase, and title of the play, was something someone wrote on James Agee’s door.

So this got me interested in James Agee, his life and his book. I had long known of him as a son of Knoxville and had been previously interested in his book “A Death In The Family” but had never gotten around to reading it. The autobiographical novel is about the events surrounding his father’s death in an auto accident when he was 6 years old. I again went to google and it turns out you can preview the book on Google Books and I have downloaded it on my Kindle. Agee was also a screenwriter (“The African Queen”) and poet and, from what I have read so far, his life was both interesting and tragic. I am really looking forward to learning more about him but that’s going to take some time which I seem to have right now.

Earlier today, I was frustrated because I was confined to my home and numbed by the TV. All I did was read a blog. And in a few hours this afternoon I questioned my “regional identity”, found an interesting author to investigate, and supported a local musician whose music I can’t get enough of. I love discovery.

Things I Know Now About 20

2010-03-08T16:13:00.000-05:00

I am at the beach on Spring Break. Not my Spring Break but my daughter's. Several months ago, Daughter and her friends decided they were going to the beach for Spring Break. They planned, they analyzed, they researched then realized that they needed someone older to rent a place and it was going to take a lot more money than they thought. So they invited the Moms.

Don't get me wrong . . . I don't feel used. How many 20 year olds would even consider taking their moms along with them on Spring Break? We are actually quite honored. And we are having fun.

But I am also learning that things are different nowadays than when I was 20. In good ways mostly. And I have learned that having 4 girls around is WAY different than 1 or 2 at a time. So here are some of those things I have learned in the last 3 days:

They will ask intelligent and interesting questions about birth control without embarrassment or hesitation.
Eating ice cream will illicit wild, high pitched giggles from groups of 3 or more when consumed at midnight.
Nightly painting of each other's toenails and plucking of each other's eyebrows is apparently fun.
Bikini tops and bottoms do not necessarily have to match.
Friends carry friends off the beach when they have consumed too much happy juice.
Boys from other colleges like to talk to girls from Tennessee, even if the girls give them fake names like Harley, Charlie, Jo, and Mo.
You can never have enough chips and dip or Sunny D.
No matter what the temp is outside, you CAN lay on the beach.
No matter what the water temp of the ocean is, if you gotta go, you gotta go.

I'm sure I will learn more over the coming days. And I'm sure I will share. Who knew spring break could be such a learning experience?

Letting Go

2010-02-28T14:54:00.002-05:00

One of the hardest things to do as a parent is to let go. It is our children’s goal in life to move on to be who they will be. And it should be. And we should be happy for them. And I am. I’m just not ready.

She wants to be a grown up, to make her own decisions, to start her life. She has a new boyfriend. He is great and I love him and his family. We used to be neighbors in Alabama. Good friends. In fact, they were “boyfriend and girlfriend” when they were 6 years old and played baseball together. Cute, huh? But they are moving so fast.

He lives in the Atlanta area. She wants to move there and go to a very expensive college. She goes to a community college now, an affordable community college. She wants to get a job there. And an apartment. And did I mention she wants to move there?

I’m not worried about her moving to Atlanta. I have tons of family and friends there so I know there would be any number of people that could help her if she needed help and I couldn’t get there. I’m not worried about her being there with him, he’s good to her. I know what it’s like to be in love and in a long distance relationship and feel like you need to see the person and you can’t. Her dad and I started dating when I was in college in Germany, 2 hours away from where he was. Then we each moved back to the U.S. but he was in Alabama and I was in Tennessee, 6 hours away from each other. it was hard but we were in love and we made it work. The first time we lived close to each other was when we lived with each other after we got married.

The real problem is that I thought I had more time with her. We are friends. We like each other. We hang out. She hangs out with my friends too. My son moved out when he was 18 and my daughter was 15. He came home again, moved out again and has been back home now for almost a year. He and I are close too but while he was gone it was just me and her. It was girl time.

But it’s her time now. She will think through all of this and make a good decision. I wish she would slow down but I have not ever seen her so happy. He makes her happy. But that’s often not enough. Life is expensive and scary and just plain ole hard. I have to let her figure it out. And she will.

I just thought I had more time.

Introducing . . .

2010-02-24T20:17:00.003-05:00

I have become just a little bit wrapped up in this weight loss process and all the new things I am discovering about me, my habits around food, alternative forms of exercise, and life in general. I have shared all of my thoughts with you on this blog but I really don’t want this blog to be a weight loss blog.

I started Living The Life Of Tere to be about my life, my family, my thoughts. Me, Me, Me. Weight loss is a part of my life but it is not the only part of me. But I had things I wanted to share with others about weight loss, things that have helped friends and others. I started to put off writing here about some funny things my kids did and other stories so I could post some weight loss stories. That’s not really where I wanted things to go.

I decided I needed to compartmentalize my life a bit when it comes to sharing my life with others. So I did something that makes no sense with the small amount of time I have . . . I started a separate weight loss blog. One where I can share my thoughts on weight loss, food diary, successes and failures, low calorie recipes, tips and tricks from others, reviews of products, other people’s success stories . . . for those that are interested in that type of thing.

So meet my new blog Simple Moon Shrinking. I would love for you to visit there and share.

The Next Generation

2010-02-20T22:49:00.002-05:00

Once there was a family. There were two parents and 4 children. Three of the children were much older than the fourth child. As the children grew older, they moved to different places around the country. They met other people and created their own families. It was hard to stay in touch but they did because they were family.

That family is my family – my parents and my siblings. I miss them. None of us live close to each other. So when one of us has an opportunity to be in a location close by, we set up a visit.

Recently, I was in Las Vegas for a conference for work. My youngest sister lives in Los Angeles, 4 hours away. On my last night there, she and my nephew drove over to spend the night with me.

Andie is the youngest of the four of us, the baby, the one that is so much younger than the rest of us. I am the oldest. Much older than Andie. I was almost 19 when she was born, old enough to be her mother. I used to think that was really cool when I was younger. Now I think it just makes me old. Andie grew up in almost a different generation than I did even though we are siblings. She is only 6 years older than my oldest child and 4 years older than my brother’s oldest child.

Andie has a 6 year old named Taj that I love dearly. Of course I am probably more like a far away grandmother to him than an aunt. And I hate that he never really knew my mom who would have loved the amazing child he is so I feel the need to sort of show him what she would have been like as a grandmother. Not that I can live up to her but I can try – a good goal.

So Andie and Taj and I headed to dinner with some of my friends and watched the gondolas on the canals at The Venetian. Then we broke off on our own to explore Vegas – Taj’s first trip. We walked the strip down one side, gazed at the lights of all the amazing casinos, saw part of the fountain show at The Bellagio twice, strolled the Bellagio’s conservatory all done up in an Asian theme, got some amazing gelato, and strolled the strip back up the other side. As we crossed the footbridge from The Mirage to The Venetian, even though he was not tall enough to see over the sided of the bridge, Taj saw that there were plexiglass panes along the sides. He asked his mom to hold him up so he could see. Then he breathed hard on the glass. He wrote TAJ in the condensation. Then he breathed on it again and wrote IS OSUM. TAJ IS OSUM. For those that don’t speak 6 year old that was “Taj is awesome”. As the condensation quickly faded, I snapped a quick picture. Yes he is.

It just touched my heart. I thought about my mom and how she would have loved that. She would have loved his confidence, been proud of his clever little mind, and pleased by what a great mom her youngest daughter has become.

And it made me think of all my siblings and their children. Our children number 11 and range greatly in age from a few months old to their mid-20’s, one with a child of his own. They are interesting, intelligent, talented, and really fun young people. They are athletes or artists or scholars or business people. They don’t know each other well as a result of the distance between us all but we are all family. They all have really good parents if I do say so myself. We had the best example.

I am excited about the next generation. What a great feeling.

The Journey Continues

2010-01-31T16:11:00.002-05:00

I have stepped up my efforts at weight loss and, as a result, have a whole lot less time to blog. I am still trying to figure out how to balance everything I need to do with things I love to do. I guess it will all work itself out in the end but, in the meantime, be patient with me. And here is an update on the weight loss progress and some new things that are helping.

Dancing – I am taking 3 classes at the Broadway Academy of Performing Arts, a new studio that opened recently in downtown Knoxville. As I have said before, I have to have fun when I exercise or I won’t do it. I have always loved dance from the time I was very young so this is right up my alley. And I have found that the classes are a very good workout and I am burning between 300 and 600 calories per class.

On Sunday nights I take a Hoop Dancing Class. Remember Hula Hoops? Well, this is not your mother’s hula hoop. The hoop is larger and slightly weighted. And dance moves are incorporated so it’s not really just standing there, circling your hips. There’s arm hooping and twirling and tricks. I am still very much a beginner but I love doing it and it’s getting me out and moving.

On Monday nights I take Sizemology Dance. It combines jazz and hip-hop and, although it’s designed for larger women, it really is for women of all sizes and ages that want to learn to dance but might be embarrassed to go to a “normal” dance class. It involves choreography and we learn a new routine every week.

On Wednesday nights . . . Zumba. Many of you have heard of Zumba which is sweeping quickly across the country. It combines Latin dance with aerobics and it is very fast paced and very challenging. My daughter and my friend Robin have been going with me which makes it a fun girl’s night out and they also keep me motivated.

Eating more local fresh produce and being more aware of where my food originated – This is a big change for me. I am all about convenience and getting in and out of the grocery store quickly. I am taking the time to cook really healthy low calorie food, to read labels, to count the calories and make sure they are healthy calories. And even though it means more trips and most of the time it is out of my way, I am buying fresh ingredients from local markets and stores and paying attention to how the meat and poultry was raised and processed.

The Bodybugg – The bodybugg is a high tech calorie tracker as well as an entire fitness and weight loss program. You have probably seen the contestants on “The Biggest Loser” wearing bodybuggs on the show. You wear the armband all day and night and it captures every step you take, every calorie you burn, the duration of activity, etc. It is very accurate and kinda fascinating. You can check it on a display throughout the day but you hook it up to the computer and it uploads the data to an online program where you can do all sorts of things. You can also track what you eat and do all sorts of analysis on your day. I am using it to ensure that I am burning the correct number of calories over what I take in so that my weight loss is consistent. And to get an accurate count of the calories I burn at my classes and any other extra exercise I do.

All this is adding up to progress. From Thanksgiving to January 4th, I did not “diet” even though I was careful. I gained back several pounds but I jumped right back in after the holidays and have lost those pounds and more in the last month. I feel amazing and my doctor has eliminated one of the two hypertension medications I take. She retested my thyroid and it is normal now. I have had only a few “hot flash” episodes where previously I was having them daily. My clothes are getting loose again which makes me happy. I am down 4 sizes in my jeans. I feel really good. And the total lost is 43 pounds. I am trying not to obsess about the scale in an effort to hit the 50 pound mark but it is so close I can taste it! I’ll keep you updated!!!

The More That You Read . . .

2010-01-17T11:14:00.002-05:00

“The more that you read, the more things you will know. The more that you learn, the more places you'll go.”

~Dr. Seuss

Reading has always been a love of mine. Not in the way it is for many people. I see those who carry around 3 and 4 books at a time, who devour every new, hot novel as well as classic literature, who curl up on quiet, cold Saturdays with a good book, who find sanctuary in libraries and bookstores, who can converse on the details and differences of Hawthorne, Austen, and Dickens. None of that is me.

I do read all the time. My mother read to me from the time I was an infant. I started reading when I was 4 and by the age of 5, I couldn’t wait until our next trip to the library. When I ate breakfast, I read the cereal boxes, then newspapers. Later, I enjoyed novels occasionally but my attention span didn’t allow for it very often. I’m still that way. But I did, and still do, enjoy novels and non-fiction. Over the years I switched over to magazines and the internet (blogs, social websites, news sites) for my reading. When I am sitting in front of the TV, I am also reading something – either in a magazine or on the computer. I read every night when I get into bed, falling asleep as the book lies open where it fell from my hand as I drifted off.

When I purchased my Kindle, I was not sure I would like it but what I found was that, not only do I love it, but I read more. I have actually let my subscriptions to several magazines lapse and I am reading more books than I have in many years. I can carry my Kindle with me in my purse and pull it out while waiting anywhere.

What have I enjoyed reading lately?

“Such A Pretty Fat” – by Jen Lancaster. Also Jen’s books “Pretty In Plaid” and “Bitter is the New Black”. Jen is hilarious. “Such A Pretty Fat” is about Jen’s weight loss journey and she tells it with honesty and a great deal of humor. I also love her blog Jennsylvania.

“The Lost Symbol” – by Dan Brown. I have also read “The DaVinci Code” and “Angels and Demons”. I love the intrigue and suspense.

“Half–Assed: A Weight-Loss Memoir” – by Jennette Fulda. Jennette is also very funny and honest about her struggles with losing almost 200 pounds. She also has a great blog, PastaQueen.

“The Year of Living Biblically: One Man's Humble Quest to Follow the Bible as Literally as Possible” – by AJ Jacobs. He also wrote “The Know-It-All: One Man's Humble Quest to Become the Smartest Person in the World” and “The Guinea Pig Diaries: My Life as an Experiment”. I haven’t started these yet but have heard Mr. Jacobs interviewed a couple of times and can’t wait to start reading them. Here is the description of “The Year of Living Biblically” from his website: The Year of Living Biblically answers the question: What if a modern-day American followed every single rule in the Bible as literally as possible. Not just the famous rules – the Ten Commandments and Love Thy Neighbor (though certainly those). But the hundreds of oft-ignored ones: don’t wear clothes of mixed fibers. Grow your beard. Stone adulterers. A.J. Jacobs’ experiment is surprising, informative, timely and funny. It is both irreverent and reverent. It seeks to discover what’s good in the Bible and what is maybe not so relevant to 21st century life. And it will make you see the Good Book with new eyes.

As you can tell, I lean towards humor. I like to spend my time around people who have a sense of humor about life so I guess it’s natural that I would like authors that do the same.

So . . . are you a reader? What books have you read lately? What do you recommend?

A Lack Of Self-Confidence Is Not My Problem

2010-01-07T21:18:00.002-05:00

This time of year makes me just a little crazy. TV shows tell you how to set your resolutions for weight loss, commercials are non-stop for gyms, Weight Watchers, and Jenny Craig, and the new season for Biggest Loser has begun. I am sick of hearing about calculations for BMI (body mass index) and all the reasons Americans are fat. I am sick of hearing doctors and researchers and nutritionists tell everyone that they, and they alone, have the magic bullet, the way to make weight loss easy.

I do not fit the stereotype of the “fat girl”. I was not always fat. I was never thin growing up but I was not fat either. I had no problems fitting in. We moved a lot so I had to do a lot of fitting in. I was an athlete – basketball was my passion. I ate healthy. My mom was a great cook and she was very conscientious about nutrition and the need to try new foods.

When I left for college, I was not careful about what I ate but rather ate things that were quick and easy. I also enjoyed an alcoholic beverage on occasion . . . ok, lots of occasions. I no longer had basketball year round for exercise and did little to compensate by finding other exercise. Then I went to work in a restaurant serving home style cooking and, being a poor college student, ate all my meals there to save money. Then came marriage and kids and convenience eating - restaurants, drive thru’s, and microwave meals.

But I never lost my confidence in myself. I have always had some level of vanity – I have always worn make–up and fixed my hair, at least when I leave home to go somewhere. I try to dress fashionably and have my nails done. I have 12 pairs of Chuck Taylor Converse and love to create my own offbeat “style”, ignoring the fact that fat girls should never wear horizontal stripes. And on occasion . . . I look HOT! I have always felt relatively good about myself, no matter what my size was. I am smart and I never doubted I could do any job I wanted to do. People never shunned me, in fact I have lots of friends.

I have always thought of myself as just me, not a fat girl. Never did it enter my mind that someone would criticize me because of my weight because no one ever did. I had a husband that loved me and a great family and a wonderful job and beautiful kids. I would have loved to be thin but I was happy with myself. Until I wasn’t anymore.

As I see the commercials and watch the newest season of The Biggest Loser, I resent the stereotypes that are perpetuated. Sad, fat people who have no control, who must be saved by others. I hate it in the same way I hate movies that have the fat character who carries around a bowl of chips and dip the whole time, the boy who splashes all the water out of the pool when he jumps in, the girl who the boys make fun of behind her back when she has a crush on one of them.

I love The Biggest Loser and believe it can truly motivate people to get help when they can’t figure out how to help themselves but the contestants get bigger and their stories sadder each season. All fat people are not sad. Some of us have dated and been loved and really like ourselves but want to live healthy, active lives so we change our bad habits and work hard to get rid of the weight we so blindly allowed to take over. But people need to realize that being skinny is a lot like winning the lottery. It’s great and some things are easier but all your emotional issues are still there until you DO something about them.

Maybe self-confidence really WAS my problem. I was ok, my life was ok. I was happy. So I never did anything about the weight that kept creeping on. I have done something about it several times over the last few years but really only half-heartedly, because I felt like I SHOULD. But I am doing it this time and I am very serious about it.

And very confident.

Life Uncommon

2009-12-27T19:23:00.003-05:00

Lend your voices only to sounds of freedom
No longer lend your strength to that which you wish to be free from
Fill your lives with love and bravery
And you shall lead a life uncommon

~ Life Uncommon by Jewel

When I think of making resolutions, I think less of something I want to accomplish or change and more about the person I want to become. It’s a never ending process, becoming that person. And I have a long way to go before I get there. But I am working towards it, every day, every year.

I think back on people in my life that I admire, those who have lived the “life uncommon”. Some are living and some have passed on. All taught or are teaching me something. They aren’t perfect people, in fact, they are quite flawed beings. That’s ok. It keeps things interesting. And maybe I’m teaching them something. Maybe.

My mom is at the top of my list. Although she passed on a few years ago, she’s still teaching me. I see so many things now that I failed to recognize when she was alive. My mother was a strong woman but you had to get to know her to see it. She seemed amiable, compliant, and non-confrontational. She was all of those things to a certain extent. But once she made up her mind about something, it was going to happen. Several years ago, Mom wanted to go to Egypt to see the pyramids, sort of a spiritual journey. Dad was not interested. Really, no one was. So she went by herself and she had one of the best times of her life. She went with a tour group and one of my favorite pictures has her sitting on a camel in the desert in front of a pyramid. The look on her face is one of pure joy. She was not afraid to go halfway around the world by herself to do something she alone wanted to do. There are many more stories like that – being the first in her family to go to college, graduating from college despite getting married, having 2 small children and no money, getting her masters degree at 39 while pregnant with my youngest sister. She never let anyone tell her she couldn’t do something and if she wanted to do it, she did, no matter what got in her way.

Each of my siblings have inspired me and also taught me things. We are all so different from each other and there is a lot to be learned from each other. My brother’s dedication to his children and his efforts at personal growth encourage me. My middle sister is one of the most giving people I’ve ever met and her strong dedication to her faith inspire me. My youngest sister is one of the smartest people I know and her enjoyment of living make me want to close my eyes and dance, just like she does.

My children teach me and inspire me every day . . . to be a better parent, to be a better person, and to have fun every day. I can allow myself to be a little introverted and they pull me out, get me to do things and encourage me to just have more fun. The picture at right was taken when we were making our annual holiday photo. None of us were really in the mood. We had done the traditional thing in front of the tree, in front of the fireplace, etc. As my daughter’s friend, Sara, our photographer was fooling with the lights, the jumping began. First my daughter, then my son and my daughter. Eventually I joined in and Sara clicked away. We laughed and had the best time. And this was the photo that went in our Christmas cards along with one of the traditional ones. It shows our true personalities.

There are friends too, many of them. Some I see daily and others not for years. Some I work with, some I work for, some I scrapbook with, some are relatives that are friends, some I just hang out with. Others are from high school, some were long lost and now found on Facebook, and some are blogger friends I have never met. They are in my life for many reasons, not the least of all being to teach me to move myself towards growth and knowledge and patience and bravery and love.

I’m working on Living a Life Uncommon. Please be patient with me.

Where Are You Christmas?

2009-12-15T20:28:00.002-05:00

Where are you Christmas ? Why can't I find you? Why have you gone away?
Where is the laughter you used to bring me? Why can't I hear music play?
My world is changing, I'm rearranging. Does that mean Christmas changes too?

As sung by Faith Hill in “The Grinch”

Every year it gets harder for me to find that Christmas spirit.

I have always loved Christmas – the extended family gathering, the huge meal, that feeling of “niceness” that comes over everyone, the spirit of giving. I used to be so excited about getting out and shopping for that perfect gift for everyone on my list. Then I would put on holiday music and wrap presents for hours.

When my children were small, I loved to see them excited about Santa, the tree, the lights, and the giving of gifts. Making the holiday special for them was important to me but it was also fun. As they grew up, watching them do their own shopping and seeing their dedication to our Christmas traditions was rewarding.

After my husband passed away, I decided that the kids did not need another pair of jeans or another CD but they did need memories. So every year, either right before or after Christmas, we took a trip together. We went to Disney, on a cruise to Cozumel, took an amazing trip to New York City, and one year we rented a cabin in Gatlinburg and invited friends. And we made some great memories. But then they got older and their job schedules made it more difficult to coordinate a family trip around the holidays.

Over the years, I have grown to strongly dislike shopping, not just during the holidays but year-round. Our families are blessed with good jobs and homes and very little need so buying gifts became more and more difficult because when we want something, we get it ourselves. I feel so grateful that we are all so lucky and feel like it’s such a waste of money to buy something that it not really wanted or needed, just for the purpose of giving a gift. One side of my family got smart this year and we are only doing gifts for the kids while the adults will give the gift of time spent with each other, just enjoying the holiday together.

That old feeling is starting to return as I am reminded of what this holiday is about. Last night at my ABWA Christmas Party, one of our members shared a story from her church. Each church member was given an envelope with cash in it, in amounts ranging from $1 to $20. They were instructed to use their money for the benefit of others. They were not allowed to keep the money or to give it back to the church or to any of the church’s charitable events. My friend and her husband received $1 each. She is a teacher so she and her husband put their money together and she told the children in her classes that any money they brought in for the Empty Stocking Fund, she and her husband would match, starting with their $2. Within 3 days, the children had brought in over $60. Her point was that it didn’t matter how much you had or how much you started with, if you put it with others, you can do something good for someone else. After she told her story, most of the women in the room dried their eyes and one by one, quietly went to her and gave her the cash they had on them. Including me. It felt like Christmas again.

So, as the song says, “my world is changing, I’m rearranging”. So maybe that’s my answer. I need to rearrange what my idea of Christmas is and turn it into something that helps others. Giving to those that do not have what our family has, who are truly in need, that might be just where my Christmas spirit will be found.

At least until I have grandchildren!

Non-Traditional

2009-11-28T20:17:00.003-05:00

Every year, for as long as I can remember, Thanksgiving has always been about family. Growing up, if we were living in the US, we all piled into the car and traveled from wherever we were stationed to visit my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins in Tennessee and Kentucky. Since we moved to Tennessee in 1997, we have spent our Thanksgivings on the road to Alabama and middle Tennessee to see my own children’s grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins.

A few years ago my Mom passed away and my house became Thanksgiving central for my Dad, my middle sister and her family and I loved it. They would all arrive the night before and we would spend Thanksgiving day eating all our family favorites. It was much too far for my brother and youngest sister and their families to travel but at least part of our family was together for the day. The day after would see everyone leaving for home or to visit more family in Kentucky and once the house was cleared out, my kids and I would head for Alabama to visit with their paternal grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins.

This year was different. As our children have gotten older, gotten jobs, and have become involved in school activities and sports, travel becomes more difficult for all of us. The weeks before this Thanksgiving were spent in conversations about how this year would have to be different. My sister’s boys were playing football and they had a playoff game this weekend. They would not be able to travel but she invited us to Louisiana. I tried to make it work but after getting my kids work schedules, I would have had to go alone and did not want to leave the kids alone for Thanksgiving. I also wouldn’t be able to visit my in-laws in Alabama if I did that.

Dad had some commitments with friends and would not be traveling either. My brother-in-law and his wife had a family wedding and would be staying in Mobile. After speaking with my in-laws they decided they would drive down to Mobile to spend the weekend.

My friend Robin and I were discussing our mutual frustrations with this Thanksgiving and, after quickly deciding against her suggestions of Ihop and Waffle House for Thanksgiving dinner, I decided to rent a cabin in the mountains of nearby Townsend and invited Robin and her family to come along. We would all just hang out and it would be close enough that all the kids could come and go for work as needed.

Apparently, lots of folks spend Thanksgiving in the Smoky Mountains. I thought I would NEVER find a cabin. Mind you, there are literally thousands of cabins for rent in the Smoky Mountains. There were almost none available. I spent hours searching online and finally found a 2 bedroom available in Townsend and for a pretty good price. I was a little hesitant but went ahead with the contract. The website said the cabin had a hot tub, a volleyball net, a bonfire pit, and had horses on the 11 acre property. We could make this work.

I decided to go up by myself on Tuesday afternoon. Everyone else would come up after work on Wednesday. The kid’s friends would join us on Thursday evening. Some of the kids had to work on Friday and we would all leave on Saturday. There might be a lot of coming and going and sleeping on the floor but we are a laid back group and it would be fine. I just kept thinking mountains, hot tub, and bonfire.

What we got was amazing. The cabin was small but we made it work. When there were too many people in the house, we went outside. The kids fed the horses lots of apples, carrots, and bread. We explored the property looking for the pond which we never found until we were packing the cars on Saturday. There was an inspiring view of the Smoky Mountains and the sunrises were just beautiful from the rocking chairs or the swing on the porch. The hot tub was perfect and we had a bonfire each night. The sky was so clear and as we sat by the fire drinking hot spiced cider and staring up at the stars you could see every star in the sky. We all pitched in and cooked a yummy Thanksgiving dinner combining each family’s favorites. And I took lots of pictures. All the pictures here were taken around the cabin. I think this might have become one of my most favorite Thanksgivings ever.

I missed my family but I was with my family. Robin and her family are our family too. We vacation together at the beach every year and I am thinking this Thanksgiving thing might become a new tradition too. And I will be returning to that cabin again. It just reinforced why I love the mountains.

As we sat in the hot tub, my daughter said “I could live here”. Me too babe. Me too.

Weight Loss Update Time

2009-11-23T18:47:00.002-05:00

It has been awhile since my last update and a few people have asked so I thought I would let everyone know how things are going. It’s kind of funny because people are a little afraid to ask. I think the feeling is “What if she went off her diet?” I guess they want to spare me the embarrassment of having to say I failed. But I haven’t failed, I am still plugging along, looking down the long road ahead.

Here are things I have done that are working:

1. The Daily Plate at Livestrong.com. I have mentioned it in before but it has truly been a huge help to me and I have recommended it to so many people. Basically, you log all the food you eat each day and it tracks the calories. I usually hate logging my food but this is really easy. I have the mobile app on my blackberry so I can keep track on the go. There have been only a few foods that I have not found in their database. They have calories for grocery store foods, restaurant foods and even for recipes. As I lose weight, the daily calories adjust and I stay on track. It is easy to use and I use it every day.

2. I eat small meals and carry food with me daily. I eat something every 2 – 3 hours. I always eat breakfast then a few hours later I eat some yogurt or fruit. Then a small lunch and a few hours later some veggies or fruit or almonds or a snack bar. A few hours later I eat a medium size dinner and then later some fruit or a pudding snack or some dark chocolate. I pack a cooler in the morning with food and water and I keep a bag in my car with snack bars, almonds, and low cal snacks. The small meals every few hours keep me from getting hungry and having healthy food with me allows me to make good decisions rather than running through a drive through fast food restaurant.

3. The 90/10 Rule. There have been many situations over the last few weeks where I found myself unable to control what I ate or where I gave in to temptation. I had an out of town 4 day business meeting where the meals were chosen for us and we celebrated my daughter’s birthday among other things. That’s life. So guilt is not an option. The key is getting right back on the diet the next day and not looking back. I try to do what I am supposed to do 90% of the time and then allow myself a little “fun” 10% of the time. I’m in this for the long haul and I have a long way to go so the expectations have to be realistic.

4. Calorie counting is easier than I thought. Of course, having access on The Daily Plate to the calories of almost everything I eat makes it really easy. I have done WW points, low fat, and low carb in the past and never wanted to mess with counting calories. But ultimately, weight loss means putting fewer calories (whether they are made up of fat, carbs, protein, or something else) in your body and burning more calories so it really is all about the calories. No food is really off limits, you just have to be careful how much you eat of it. Having that flexibility leaves me lots of choices, which I like.

5. The Wii Fit will make you sweat! Who knew? I sure didn’t. We have had it for a year but I had not really used it because I didn’t really understand what it did. Last week, I had my daughter show me. I loved it! Then I went and bought the new Wii Fit Plus disc ($19.99) because it has many more games and allows you to track the amount of calories you are burning. It’s fun and it doesn’t feel like exercise. But I am sweating and actually getting a workout – try it for an hour, you will see. There is yoga, strength exercises, balance games, and aerobic activities. I feel great and can see improvement every time I use it.

So the results today are that I have lost almost 40 lbs. And it feels good.

The End Just Means A New Beginning

2009-11-21T15:48:00.002-05:00

This time of the year usually signifies endings of some sort. The end of a season, the end of a calendar year, businesses end their fiscal year, and school semesters are ending for students everywhere. But do things really end? All of those endings bring with them a new beginning. Hopefully. An end is really more like a marker for change. One thing or way of life ends and another begins. Things change.

Many people in my life have endings going on in their lives – relationships, jobs, normal daily life as they know it. It is difficult to watch them go through it. I can’t just tell them things will be ok. Well I could tell them that but they might hit me. I can only be there to listen and that’s ok with me. But it’s hard when you can’t fix it for them, no matter how much you wish you could.

There will be new beginnings for them – new relationships, new jobs, new normal in their lives. I don’t know when those new beginnings will come but I know that when they do, those things will be better for them. I feel it. I’ve been through it and started over. Change is hard. Things are different but they really are better.

Eventually.

Accept Me As I Am

2009-11-13T13:11:00.002-05:00

What exactly does that mean? People say it all the time but what does it mean?

I have been on E-Harmony now for a while and, on occasion, I receive the profile of a man who is looking for someone that can accept him “as I am”. I often hesitate to reply to those profiles. My mind goes to all kind of places. Is he severely obese or does he have a disfiguring disease? Is he a former felon or a child molester? Or could he possibly mean he is looking for someone that is not going to change him? I don’t know.

When I hear people say “accept me as I am”, I wonder what they’ve been through. Not just people on E-Harmony but in everyday life. Who hurt them? Who didn’t accept them? Why weren’t they accepted? Was it their fault or someone else’s?

Mostly I consider why they are not willing to change. Change usually means growth. We change all our lives. Hopefully.

As a child, we throw tantrums until we change our behavior after learning that tantrums get us nowhere. Or we don’t change and grow up to become controlling, whiney adults. Adults who are unwilling to change.

There are many things about those in my life, as well as myself, that I can accept – bad habits, personality quirks, falling short. We all struggle with making ourselves better people and we all have bad days. But to ignore the need to change and grow is a deal breaker. Work on yourself and I accept that. Self-awareness is key.

So I still don’t know what those people mean when they say “accept me as I am”. It may just be a terminology issue. They could have said “Please accept that I have flaws and I am working on them” and I might not do so much thinking about the whole situation.

But then, what would I blog about?

Hands

2009-11-07T11:36:00.003-05:00

“My hands are small, I know, but they’re not yours, they are my own.” ~ Hands by Jewel

From a very young age I have had a fascination with people’s hands. I think it started with my grandparents. My grandfather was a farmer and his hands were worn and wrinkled and he had short fingers. My grandmother had large, strong hands but they were always so soft and beautiful. When they held me, I took comfort in their hands and understood the love that came through them.

My mom’s hands were a combination of both her parents. Her hands were small like her father’s but looked like her mother’s. And they were always soft and beautiful. Her fingers were perfectly shaped and she always filed her fingernails into a sort of pointy shape. Her fingers taper perfectly just as if you were drawing a picture of what a hand is “supposed” to look like.

My dad’s hands were small also and perfectly tapered with short fingers like his mother’s. And his hands were hairy. But he really does have pretty hands, as people say, for a man. He used to bite his nails when I was younger but he got past that stage and he has really nice hands.

My hands are a combination of my mom’s and dad’s, small with short, tapered, well shaped fingers. My husband’s hands were very different from those in my family. He had longer fingers and large, wide palms. His fingers were wide and a little knobby and not so perfectly tapered with rough places around his nails where he wouldn’t take the time to find nail clippers and would just bite off a hang nail. But they were gentle and caring hands. I remember when he died and we had the viewing. I really didn’t know why then but I just stood beside his casket and rubbed his hand. It was oddly comforting.

Hands say something about the person to whom they are attached. It’s not like we can change our hands to fit our mood but I see personality in hands. It’s the first thing I look at when I meet people. I can tell if someone has worked hard in their life or if they don’t care about their personal hygiene. You can tell if they spend way too much money on their manicures or if they are a practical person who would prefer to take care of their filing and polishing themselves. For the record, I spend money getting my nails done but mostly because I’m lazy and would walk around with jagged cuticles and chipped polish. Go ahead, judge me.

These pictures are of my mom’s hands. She is teaching my kids how to make her famous biscuits. I used to love watching her make biscuits. It was like art. As she mixed the dough and my kids helped, I decided that I wanted pictures of my mom teaching my kids but I also wanted pictures of their hands. I have a scrapbook page that I made from all the photos. You can see my son’s hands in one of the photos also. His hands and his sister’s hands are a combination of his dad’s and mine.

I think about all the things my mom’s hands have done for me and it makes me quite emotional. To not see her hands and feel their comfort has been hard since she died. Just like when my husband died, at the funeral home, I stood beside her and touched her hands. It breaks my heart now to think about it. But these pictures give a small amount of comfort and I am so glad I took them.

Life Happens

2009-11-01T12:31:00.002-05:00

I love my blog. I have no aspirations to be a writer but I do love writing. I enjoy telling the stories of the people in my life, sometimes funny, sometimes sad, and there is always a lesson to be learned. Sometimes, the blog allows me to say things I can’t or just don’t say to others. I want to say them but in most situations it would be awkward. So I say them here.

I write when I have something to say or a story to tell. Usually I have something to say a couple of times a week. Sometimes I write once a week. Rarely does a week or more go by but it has happened. That’s when life happens. Plain old boring life.

Several times in the last few weeks I have wanted to write about something – my kid’s adventures in redecorating, my new photography project, my trip to Kentucky for my first horse racing experience, Halloween adventures, weight loss milestones, and more. But writing takes time and I was busy letting life happen.

I sat down a few times and started to write but got caught up in archiving my second year of blogging into book form. Or working on a photography project. I was working longer each day and in the evening, searching the internet for healthy low calorie recipes or playing on Facebook. When my old clothes got too baggy, I shopped on line and in stores for some new, slightly smaller clothes. I listened to my kids tell me about work and school and friends and parties. And I never got around to writing.

I missed it. I missed my blog. So I am writing about, basically, nothing today. Just because I miss writing. But I’m writing.

Check Yourself

2009-10-15T20:25:00.002-04:00

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. And today . . . I had my yearly mammogram. I got the results back today too. No problems, all clear. It’s really nice not to have to worry.

I’m not really a worrier so why would I worry? I have friends that have or have had breast cancer. Way too many of them. But they have survived even if their health has been affected in other ways as a result of the treatment. It’s a scary disease. But when your mother dies way too young as a result of a teeny, tiny lump in her breast, you worry.

Mom’s cancer started with a small “spot”. It was so small that when they did the biopsy, the doctor told her they got almost all of it during the procedure. But the biopsy came back with bad news and they recommended a lumpectomy which was performed on June 1st of 2001. They said she wouldn’t need chemo but recommended radiation. Just to be sure. Mom politely declined. Five years later, she passed away. It was 5 years of a lot of pain, a lot of searching for answers, a lot of denial that cancer was causing it all and finally, acceptance. She taught us a lot of things in those 5 years.

I hate cancer . . . of any kind. It makes me really angry. So I worry. I worry for my daughter and my sisters. I worry for my friends. Males are not safe either. Look up those statistics. I recently heard of a married couple who are both suffering from breast cancer . . . both the husband and the wife.

So I remind everyone. Check yourself, have your doctor check you, get a mammogram. Regularly. So you don’t have to worry.

Aline Dewees Wiggins Cunningham

2009-10-08T19:38:00.002-04:00

Aline Dewees Wiggins Cunnigham was the second daughter of Blake Baker Wiggins III and Eddie “Trinkins” Cabaniss of Jackson, Mississippi. She was born June 16th, 1892. Aline was a tall girl, almost 6 foot tall, and prone to slouching to hide the fact that she stood head and shoulders over many men of her time. She was quite pretty and her hair was long and thick. So thick and heavy that when she wore it up, she got headaches from the weight of her hair.

Aline was somewhat shy but very friendly and sociable. She loved her family and parties and learning new things. Her family was well known in the Jackson area and she had many opportunities to travel and meet many different people. Her friendships were strong and continued throughout her life.

Sometime around 1913, Aline traveled to Clarksville, Tennessee to visit her sister Mae who had moved there after her marriage to Herbert Hambaugh. Because travel was difficult, visits to family were extended, sometimes for months. While in Clarksville, Aline met a young man, a very tall young man named Frank Cunningham. Frank was from a good family and was quite charming. And he was tall. There were parties and a courtship. And Frank was charming enough that Aline agreed to marry Frank and to move to Tennessee, away from Mississippi and her family. They married in 1914 and settled in Clarksville, close to Frank’s large family.

Aline was much like women of her day. She left her family of origin and became part of a new family, that of her husband. She had children, two boys. Blake was named after her father and Frank was named after her husband. Aline missed Mississippi, her parents, and her siblings but travel was not easy so visits were few. But she was a wonderful letter writer and shared the news of her young boys and daily life with her family and friends back in Mississippi on a regular basis.

Aline was a sentimental soul. She researched her family lineage and corresponded with many long distance cousins through letter writing and sharing documentation. She saved letters, postcards, clippings, journals, and baby shoes. She gave her all to her husband and her boys and was, by all accounts, a beloved wife and mother. And an amazing cook.

Aline was a gentle woman who rarely even raised her voice. Later in her life she was ravaged by rheumatoid arthritis and was confined to a wheelchair. But she never complained. After being so selfless all of her marriage, there were times her boys and her husband did not appreciate her pain. She had given all to them and they were quite selfish. But others saw the truth. Both her daughters-in-law saw it as did her grandchildren. And they talk about her strength to this day.

I didn’t know Aline that well, really not at all. She died when I was 4. She was my great grandmother. I have memories of sitting beside her and looking at her hands. They were twisted and she couldn’t move her fingers much but she was so gentle. She enjoyed playing cards. And I remember when she died. We weren’t there but when my mother got the phone call, I remember her getting down on her knees and praying and crying. She wasn’t her grandmother. My mom married one of Aline’s grandsons. But Mom had such admiration and respect for Aline and they were close. My grandmother used to say that my mom reminded her of Aline.

The stories of Aline have inspired me all my life to be a better person. Different from Aline because the times are different but taking all of the good in her and trying to live my life better. There may have been bad and I just haven’t heard it. I would hope so since really, no one is perfect.

It is said by some that when you die and the people that knew you die, it’s as if you didn’t exist. I don’t want that to happen. So I write about Aline here. And other family members that have passed. Now you know a little about them too. And they can live forever.

Welcome October

2009-10-01T20:12:00.002-04:00

"Even if something is left undone, everyone must take time to sit still and watch the leaves turn."

- Elizabeth Lawrence

I am so very glad to see October arrive. Fall is my favorite season and in Tennessee, October is one of the most beautiful months. The weather cools off, the light changes, the leaves turn beautiful colors and the countdown to the autumn holidays begins.

There are a few other things that I love about October:

It is Breast Cancer Awareness Month
College Football is in full swing
It’s my Blog’s 2nd Anniversary!

Last year, I found Blurb. It is a website where you can download the software to your computer that allows you to lay out and create a book of anything you want. Once you get it all laid out, you upload it to the website and they print the book for you. The cool thing is . . . you can download your blog into the software and then print it in hardbound form, saving it forever. I did that last year for the first anniversary of my blog and will doing it again soon for the second year. I figure that way, maybe my grandchildren will one day read about how it was way back in 2008 and 2009 and will maybe know their old grandmother a little better.

Weight Loss Update - I am going to try to keep my “scale days” to once a month around the first day of the month. As today is the first day of October, I weighed this morning and I have lost 30 pounds in 10 weeks. I am very happy with the progress.

Full of Hot Air

2009-09-27T14:17:00.002-04:00

For the last 6 years, Pellissippi State, a local community college and now the college my daughter attends, has held a Hot Air Balloon Festival. I have never been. I wasn’t really sure it was something I would find interesting. I wondered what it involved but never more thought more than that.

Last Friday, the festival kicked off and my daughter called to see if I wanted to go with her friend Sara and Sara’s parents. Why not? We went and I had no idea. There was a great band playing, an area with activities for children, a rock climbing wall, tons of stuff to see, interesting food (had to have a funnel cake) and then . . . after dark there was the Balloon Glow.

I knew they lit up the balloons, I had seen pictures. But I had no idea they did it to music and it went on for about 20 minutes. It was quite a beautiful and amazing sight.

They had one section where the balloon in the center from Pellissippi State began to rise and below it was a waving flag. Patriotic songs played and the balloons lit and faded in time to the music. I don’t usually enjoy the cheesiness factor of those kinds of things but it really brought tears to my eyes.

I am so glad we went and very glad we decided to go on Friday night as everything on Saturday was cancelled due to the torrential downpour we had all day. And I will be back next year. You should join us.

I Think I Can

2009-09-20T16:47:00.002-04:00

Several of my recent blog posts and Facebook status updates seem to have involved the enjoyment of food leading some of you to ask if I am still dieting. Yes, I am. I will be “dieting” for a long time.

I still hate calling it a diet although I have no idea what it should be called. Diet seems temporary. Lifestyle change doesn’t really do it either. I haven’t found an appropriate term yet and don’t know that I ever will. This change to the way I eat will become normal at some point. It has to become a normal thing for it to work. I must pay attention to what I eat and the amount I eat, not as a diet but as a normal way of life.

Several friends have asked how much I’ve lost and I don’t really know except that my clothes, even my yoga pants, are getting too big. Many think it’s weird that I have no idea. As I stated in earlier blog posts, the scale is not my friend. I first said I would weigh when I could really tell a difference in my clothes. I did that after 4 weeks and I had lost 17 and a half pounds. That was a great motivator although I am quite aware that I will not have that much of a loss again. That’s an average of over 4 lbs. per week and it would be unrealistic to expect that to continue. I am shooting for an average of about 2 lbs per week. I will probably weigh again towards the end of the month and will let you know how it’s going.

Something is different this time and I don’t really know what it is. I have tried to figure it out but cannot really come up with why I feel differently. I am so laid back this time and feel no pressure to do this. But I really want to do it and have not really found it hard to do. Not getting on the scale allows me to keep from getting hung up on that up and down everyone experiences as a part of weight loss. My approach has all the hallmarks of failure according to the experts. I have little to no “support” – I don’t go to group meetings, my family is supportive but we don’t really talk about my “diet”, I don’t have a doctor helping me, I don’t even really have a plan. It’s my choice what I eat and I am choosing to stay within my calorie range and make healthy decisions. I have chosen to eat at restaurants and to enjoy, on a couple of occasions, home cooking style food that is laden with calories. But I make better choices at the restaurants by looking up the calories on Livestrong.com on my cell phone and when I enjoyed biscuits and hashbrown casserole at the Loveless Cafe, I only at half of my food, stopping when I was full. And then the next day, I go right back to my regular healthy meals.

I have found that I love Greek style non-fat yogurt, especially strawberry and peach by Chobani. I am not a cottage cheese fan but have you tried Rachel’s flavored cottage cheese? Flavors like Pear Mangosteen or Cucumber Dill or Lemon Verbena Berry have got me hooked. I am eating more protein but still struggle with craving carbs. Laughing Cow Light cheese has saved me on more than one occasion when I really needed some mac and cheese. Lean Cuisine frozen entrees are my favorite lunch for work. Right now I am craving a turkey, romaine, and avocado sandwich on Ezekiel Bread that was mentioned and photographed by my online friend Becky, better known as Dyxie.

So give me another couple of weeks and I will update you again with a total pounds lost thus far. I can’t wait to hear it myself.

One Short Day

2009-09-13T17:01:00.002-04:00

From the song, One Short Day from Wicked, The Musical

Elphaba and Glinda:

Where so many roam to
We'll call it home too
And then just like now we can say,
Were just two friends
Two good friends
Two best friends
Sharing one wonderful,
one short...
...day!

Have you seen “Wicked”? If you get the opportunity, go. If you have no idea what I’m talking about . . . “Wicked” is a play . . . a musical to be exact . . . about the Wicked Witch of the West (her name is Elphaba) and Glinda the Good Witch from “The Wizard of Oz”. But it’s the story of what happened before Dorothy and Toto came into the picture. Very funny and the songs are amazing.

My son and I love musical theater. My daughter, not so much. I heard “Wicked” was coming to Nashville and as soon as I could, I went online to purchase tickets. We have wanted to see this for a long time. Nashville is a 3 hour drive so we debated driving back after the show but the earliest that would get us home would be 3am. I just wasn’t up for that so on Friday afternoon I got a reservation at a hotel in downtown Nashville so we could walk to everything. We would leave Saturday around noon.

My son and I don’t get to spend much time together now. Our schedules overlap – he goes to work at 3pm and works till 11pm. Then he usually goes out with friends and comes home very late (or early as the case may be), falls into bed and sleeps until about 11am the next day. My schedule is more “normal”. I usually hear him come in at night after work and he tells me goodnight. That’s about it except for a little time on the weekends.

So this was going to be fun. Just me and him for a change.

When we arrived and checked in, I remembered that one of my favorite Nashville restaurants, Mambu, was close by. Mambu is an eclectic little restaurant with amazing food and a great atmosphere. It’s not as well known as other places but it should be. So we headed over for dinner and had a great time eating great food before taking a taxi to TPAC for the performance.

At intermission, I headed for the restroom and stood waiting for an elevator. Out of the elevator stepped my old friend Tammy and her husband, whom I had never met. We have been friends for about 15 years while she lived in St. Louis and Atlanta but I have not seen her since she moved to Nashville. We chatted for a second and then she said “Well, we will see you in there. We are in row L”. I said “We are in row L too”. She said “We are in seats 30 and 31.” I said “Don’t tell me we are sitting next to each other! We are in 32 and 33!” I was sitting next to her husband for the whole first act and had no idea! So we enjoyed the rest of the show together.

Have you ever been to one of my favorite places, The Loveless Cafe outside Nashville? If you aren’t aware of The Loveless, you are missing out. It used to be a small motel along the Natchez Trace. The cafe became famous for their southern cooking and their homemade biscuits. It has attracted many famous folks whose pictures hang on the walls. It has changed ownership several times, the motel has been converted into small shops and the cafe has been expanded but the recipes for the food (and the amazing biscuits) have been passed down so the tradition continues. So guess where we went for breakfast? It was just yummy and so much more food than either of could eat. But we tried. The biscuits are melt in your mouth with real butter and homemade peach, blackberry, and strawberry jam. It all reminded me so much of being at my grandmother’s kitchen table.

None of this was planned. Well, except for “Wicked”. And we had One Short Day of fun and being friends. It was the best!

I Just Can’t Take It Anymore

2009-09-04T11:48:00.002-04:00

Okay, I rarely talk politics on my blog. Not that I haven't shared my feelings on some things in the last few years but I just don’t care to make this blog about politics. I am very “middle of the road” when it comes to politics (and most everything else in life) but every now and then, something puts me over the edge. Today it was this article:

Obama Speech To Students Sparks Controversy

If you don’t feel like reading the whole thing, the summary is that President Obama has a speech scheduled on Tuesday that is directed at students, telling them to stay in school, work hard, and that they are responsible for their success in school. School districts have been encouraged to air it to students during the school day.

The controversy seems to enter because there are some who think Obama is forcing his “socialist agenda” on students or that he is trying to sway students politically. President Bush did something similar in 1991 and of course, was criticized by the far left. Many school districts are fielding calls from parents demanding their children not be forced to watch. Schools in many states have opted not to air the speech. This quote particularly incensed me:

"As far as I am concerned, this is not civics education — it gives the appearance of creating a cult of personality," said Oklahoma Republican state Sen. Steve Russell. "This is something you'd expect to see in North Korea or in Saddam Hussein's Iraq."

Here is my problem – this man is the President of the United States. He is our President whether we agree or disagree with his politics or his policies or his speeches. We elected him just as we elected George Bush and Bill Clinton before him. These school children get up and say the Pledge of Allegiance every day and he is the leader of the Republic that is represented by the flag. He should not be censored.

I am sick of the politics going on in the last few years but particularly in the last few months. The health care reform bill has brought out the crazies on both sides. People have avoided reading the facts and have listened to fear mongers and liars on both ends of the health care debate. Now this craziness over a speech to encourage kids to work hard in school.

I am truly an independent, not a Democrat or Republican. I voted for George Bush both times but had very little confidence in him. In fact I came to see him as ineffective and polarizing. But I condemned the far left for working against him to further their agenda. I voted for Obama and felt renewed and full of hope. I am still giving him a chance and watching carefully as it is so early in his presidency but he has his work cut out for him. And I condemn all of the far right that openly voice that they plan to ensure he fails. How is that good for America?

I long for the days when we respected our President whether we agreed with him or not. We taught our children not about liberal or conservative politics but respect for the office and our country and the process of being a part of a democracy. Now we have parents demanding schools refuse to show our President’s speech to our students. That scares me.

I am stepping down off my soapbox now. But I’m still sad.

Seeing Progress

2009-08-29T19:55:00.002-04:00

I was not ready. I didn’t want to be let down which would result in frustration. I wanted noticeable results. But my curiosity got the best of me.

On Friday, I put on an outfit that I had worn last month. The pants were brown legging type of pants, knit and slightly fitted. When I put them on that morning, they were baggy. Not like falling off or anything but noticeably baggy. But I was not getting on the scales. I went on to work and decided that I would weigh soon but not yet.

At lunch I had to run pick up something at my house. I went up to use the bathroom and there it was . . . the scale . . . staring at me. Did I dare? What if it was only a few pounds. It’s been 4 weeks and if it was only a few pounds, I know I would get frustrated. But it had to be more than a few pounds, I just know it. Should I or should I not? I shall.

I stepped on it to wake it up. The digital display circled and rested at zero. I stared at it. Then I stepped forward . . . one foot . . . then the other. I looked up so as not to see the number. Then I looked down. Really??? I quickly did the math in my head. This must be a mistake. I stepped off. I stepped back on. The same number. I did the math again in my head thinking I had made an error. Nope.

I lost 17.5 pounds in 4 weeks. I have lost almost 20 pounds. I am one happy girl. One very, very happy girl.

I have been counting calories. Not really counting them exactly, more like just tracking them. I have been using The Daily Plate at Livestrong.com which allows you to track your food online. They have an extensive database, larger than any I have seen, with grocery store food, restaurants, and just about anything you can eat. I just look up an item, click on it and it adds it. They also have an application for blackberry and iphones so I can track it during the day away from the computer. It will track exercise and activity also and add back calories burned. It’s been fairly easy to track and manage and I have only gone over my daily calories a few times.

I am really enjoying the bike riding, especially with my daughter and my friends. I can do activity or exercise all day long if there is a social or fun side to it. I don’t care for the gym or jogging or the treadmill. I used to play basketball and I was pretty good. I could run up and down the court for hours on end, never wanting to stop. But if you said I had to run laps, I hated it with a passion. When I was playing, my mind was not on the running. When I ran laps, it’s all I thought about. So I know I have to have exercise that takes my mind off what I’m doing and it has to be fun.

So the journey continues. I’m glad I peeked but I will not weigh again for at least another 4 weeks. Or until the curiosity wins again.

Technorati Tags: diet,progress,weight loss,Livestrong,The Daily Plate,calorie tracking

She’s All That

2009-08-26T21:54:00.002-04:00

Sometimes I forget to tell my children that I am proud of them. I tell everyone else about things they do that I am proud of but rarely do I share that with them. My dad did that too. We knew he was proud of us but it sure is nice to hear it occasionally. You know how, when you are growing up, you say “When I grow up I won’t do this to my kids”. Yeah, well sometimes you do.

I have shared with you both my children’s frustrations with their school experience. They are smart, articulate, and motivated in life but their high school experience turned them off to continuing on to college. I was really not given an option when it came to going to college and I left after two years because getting married was a whole lot more important to me than finishing college. I didn’t want to push my kids into it, I wanted it to be their decision. I wanted them to WANT to go and I encouraged them but I didn’t push. There was some interest but no real movement in that direction. So I thought.

My daughter has been out of high school for over a year. She has been working and has put off applying to college several times. A few months ago, she mentioned that she sent in her application to the local community college. Ok, cool. I waited and watched but didn’t push. About a month later she mentioned that she had sent in a check for registration. Really? With your own money? Impressive. But then it wasn’t mentioned again and deadlines were approaching. She shared with me that she had not heard anything yet. I suggested she call.

Turns out the school had both the application and the check but on separate accounts. Things were straightened out and the next thing I knew she was taking a placement test and had an appointment with an advisor. She had planned to start out with 6 hours of classes but went with 12 hours. She had not applied for financial aid so she looked into setting up a payment plan. That’s where I stopped her. I always told my kids that if they wanted to go to college, I would pay for it. I told her if she was committed to doing this, I would pay.

So on Monday, I paid my first ever college tuition payment for one of my kids. I am excited for her. She is starting a whole new chapter in her life and will be majoring in something she is really good at – Interior Design. But I am so proud of her for doing this all on her own. Making the decision, doing the legwork, being a grown up.

Yep, she’s all that.

Yet Another Gadget

2009-08-20T18:50:00.002-04:00

If you are Gadget Girl like me, there is always some fun new and interesting gadget on the market. But if you are a cautious techie like me, you don’t buy them as soon as they come out. I must be convinced that the new gadget is something I would use and use frequently. It must work well. Any new gadget goes through several incarnations before they get the kinks worked out so I never buy the first version of anything. I must do research and read reviews. Lots of them. And when I decide I might NEED the new gadget as much as I WANT the new gadget, then I buy it.

I have been hearing about the Kindle since Amazon came out with it in late 2007. It is an electronic book reader. Basically you buy your books or newspapers and they are downloaded to the reader (which holds hundreds of books) and you can read them anywhere, anytime. It has other nifty and awesome things it does too but basically, you read books on it.

I love books and I love paper and ink. The feel of a book in your hand, turning the pages, smelling the “new book” smell, curling up in a chair on a rainy day and feeling the weight of the book on your lap – how was this giant Ipod looking gadget going to do that? But hmmmmmm, the books are really cheap, less than $10, even for new books and those on the NY Times bestseller lists. Books that I recently paid $15 - $40 for were available for $9.99. That’s a plus. But I was not convinced. So I waited.

The more I heard about the Kindle - on Oprah, on the radio, on TV - the more intriguing I found this device. I read reviews which were mixed. Still not sure it was for me, I waited some more. Then Amazon came out with a new version – The Kindle2.

All the customer reviews were excellent. Amazon had listened to the customers and fixed the problems, making the whole thing better and at a cheaper price than the original. I did more research. Based on the number of books that I buy, the cost savings on books could pay for the Kindle in a year. Not an excellent gain but at least I would be saving money and trees and it was good effort at rationalization. And the thought of not having to store all those books – less clutter in my house. And I could put it in my purse and have all my books with me at anytime – stuck in traffic, in the airport, in the doctor’s office. I am a pro at rationalization. So I gave in. I ordered one.

I got my Kindle today. It is so much like reading a book, it’s a little freaky. I quickly and easily downloaded two books, Pretty in Plaid by Jen Lancaster and My Life In France by Julia Child. I had just finished Jen Lancaster’s book Such a Pretty Fat and it was hilarious. I couldn’t wait to get another one of her books. And I recently saw the movie Julie and Julia and had been left wanting to know so much more about Julia Child. She is NOT just the tall TV cooking lady with the funny voice I remember from childhood, she was quite a saucy broad who led such an amazing life from what I understand. I guess I will find out.

So tonight, I will fall asleep reading in bed as I always do. Except tonight, I won’t lose my place when I fall asleep and the book drops from my hand, pages fluttering as the fan blows. It will be automatically electronically bookmarked and waiting for me when I pick it up where I left off. A lot less romantic sounding but much more practical.

Project 50 . . . check. What Comes Next?

2009-08-16T11:01:00.002-04:00

To the left is my 50th photo in my Project 50 series. Project 50 involves taking 50 photos in 50 days with a 50mm lens.

Ok, so I took longer than 50 days. I did pretty well until I went to the beach for vacation and then to California for my sister’s wedding. I ended up taking a week during the middle of the project as a break. My creativity was stretched and my photos were suffering. It’s difficult to take a photo every day and keep it remotely interesting. So I gave myself a break when needed and then got back on track so it actually took me a little more than 50 days, 87 to be exact.

So I am on to my next project, whatever that is. I haven’t found one yet so stay tuned. I love the idea of a project to keep me focused and trying new things. Even when you love something, as I do photography, you sometimes need a push to keep you moving and learning new things. In fact, when I started Project 50 it was really about learning to do new things with my lens. A 50mm lens is a fixed lens which means , among other things, it doesn’t zoom at all which would be a change for me. But the project became something else – a sort of diary of things going on in my life that day or things going on in my head. I took photos of things that were meaningful to me and shared the stories. I also took photos of mundane things that were going on that day. I took photos of the food I was eating. As I looked through the series I got a sense of me and what I was doing over the last 3 months.

So here are some of my favorites from my Project 50 series:

Magic Bullet Update

2009-08-12T20:19:00.002-04:00

It has been a little over two weeks since I began my diet. I actually hate calling it a diet because of all the baggage that comes with that word. Such a negative connotation. I have changed my eating habits and my attitude so “diet” just doesn’t seem to cover it. Ruby (see her on The Style Network) calls it her journey but, while that is pretty accurate, “journey” seems little too dramatic for me. So “diet” is the word I have right now so diet it is.

As I said in my previous post, I have to do this my way which is what I have done. There is no guilt, I make adjustments as I go, no rigid goals, just figure out what works and do that. And I haven’t weighed myself and don’t plan to any time soon. I know how much I weighed the last time I went to the doctor so on my next visit, I may or may not have them tell me what the new number is. Or I may just ask them to tell me if it’s less than last time. I really don’t want to know the number until I can really tell a difference in my clothes. I can tell a little bit now but that could be wishful thinking so I WILL NOT get on the scale. As I said, I will not get hung up on a number.

When I began the diet, I decided that I would just count calories but would try to be aware of the amount of fat, fiber, carbs, and protein I was taking in to get an idea of where I needed to adjust. I had downloaded a program called “Lose It” on my Ipod Touch so I had an easy way to track my daily intake. It is all about easy for me.

One thing I learned was that I don’t eat anywhere near enough protein. The majority of what I eat was fat and carbs so I made some adjustments, adding more protein and trying to eliminate carbs at least at dinner. Secret confessional here: I could live off of pasta, rice, bread, cheese, and potatoes . . . forever . . . happily forever. And I was raised with dinner consisting of a meat, a vegetable, and a starch. So to have a protein and a vegetable only is a big change for me. But I am doing it and it’s just fine.

I am adding activity but not consistently yet. I bought a bicycle and love it but it has been so fracking hot lately so I have only been riding a few times. In parking lots, I don’t take the closest parking space. I get out at least one day on the weekend instead of sitting in front of the TV. When I do watch TV, I get up during the commercials and do something that doesn’t involve sitting. And guess what – my house is cleaner! Bonus!

So here are 5 things I have learned so far:

1. Hungry Girl says Shiratake Noodles are a great low calorie substitute that tastes just like pasta. I think they taste just like rubber bands. Lesson: Don’t buy three packages of a recommended item before you try it. Anyone want two packs of rubber band noodles?

2. Peach Nectar cake from the Mennonites. The smell of it in your car will cause you to eat it without a fork while driving down the interstate and the calories in it will allow only veggies for dinner. Lesson: Sometimes you need a cheat day and the day the Mennonites make Peach Nectar cake should be considered. But keep the purchase to a 1/4 cake so you don’t go overboard.

3. Organic is expensive and I absolutely cannot tell the difference in the taste. Lesson: Buy fresh and local but don’t get hung up on organic. A blueberry is a blueberry is a blueberry.

4. Just about anything labeled fat free is gross. The cheese doesn’t melt, the sour cream or cream cheese tastes like Kindergarten Paste, and don’t get me started on the yogurt. Lesson: Buy the Light version and just eat less – it will fill you up.

5. Last week, while at work , I was in an office and turned around. My massive assive swiped across a desk and took out a 40 ounce soda that my daughter had just bought. Lesson: That is the LAST time that will happen.

The Little White House Down The Long Gravel Road

2009-08-01T20:32:00.003-04:00

Some of my best memories are of days I spent on my grandparent’s farm. They lived outside Hopkinsville, Kentucky in a little white house down a long gravel road. My grandfather built the house and updated it through the years but the whole house consisted of two bedrooms, a living room, a large kitchen with a small parlor, and the bathroom. It was such a contrast to the large Victorian home that my dad’s parents lived in.

My brother and I lived with my grandparents during the week while our parents were in college. And when my dad was in Vietnam, my mom, my brother, my sister and I spent weekends and most of the summer there. As we moved around the world, our vacations were spent visiting with both sets of grandparents but my favorite was when we were at my mom’s parents on the farm. There was so much freedom there. The dangers that the city held were non-existent on the farm. We could roam to our heart’s content.

And we did. We chased crickets and frogs around the pond. We climbed into the corn crib and up the ladder to the hay loft. We swung like Tarzan on vines across the large flat rocks that led down to the lake. We picked blackberries and sucked the nectar from the honeysuckle blooms. We fished and caught crawdads.

Our imaginations ran wild as we played on the tractor and explored the barns where the “old stuff” was stored, reading the yellowed books, examining old photos, playing house with the old furniture. We caught fireflies on the lawn and picked apples from the tree. We scratched the pigs backs and mooed at the cows and chased the chickens.

Early in the mornings, we would wake to the smell of my grandmother frying bacon or sausage and making biscuits and gravy and coffee. It was the best smell in the world. No matter how sleepy you were, you ignored the fact that it was still dark outside and you rose to join them at the table for a huge country breakfast. And I have been drinking coffee since I was about 3. Of course it was more milk and sugar than coffee back then but I thought I was so grown up, sitting at the table with the adults drinking coffee.

Dinner was at mid-day and was the main meal of the day. There were tons of vegetables – corn, peas, green beans, white soup beans, potatoes, tomatoes, and more coupled with a fried chicken or pork chops or roast or ham. And there was always corn bread, biscuits, and sweet tea. It was my job to put the ice in the huge glasses. My grandmother’s ice trays were metal with the dividers where you had to pull the handle to loosen the ice. My fingers always stuck to the wet, frozen metal.

We always ate too much, necessitating a nap afterwards. There was no air conditioning in their house until I was in high school so all the windows were open and there was the perfect cross-breeze blowing throughout the house and they always had a fan to help it along. As we sat in the small parlor, the rocking of the chairs, the soft breeze, the sound of the birds outside, the hum of the fan, and the full belly all worked together and it never took long before we were all sitting with our heads nodding.

In the afternoons, my grandmother would sometimes let us help shuck corn, snap beans or peel apples or peaches for cooking or drying. I remember thinking it was genius that she would put the slices on the roof to dry and then be able to save them all winter to make dumplings or pies.

There were not really any toys but I don’t remember needing any. Once my grandmother gave us several large bowls and put water in them. She added a squirt of dish soap in each bowl and handed us some old egg beaters. Once we learned how to turn the crank, we had bubbles everywhere. And it kept us busy for what seemed like hours.

My children got to experience the farm only briefly when they were young and I’m not sure how much they really remember. My grandparents sold my aunt part of the farm and she built a house down the hill from theirs. Then as they grew older and became ill, they passed the farm on to my aunt and my mom. Mom sold her half to my cousin who remodeled the little house and lives there now. The smokehouse is gone and the barn is starting to fall in. The animals have been gone for since I was in high school. We have gone back to visit a few times but it is just not the same. So now I choose to hold on to the memories in my heart rather than face the reality of the present.

I hope that one day I can provide my own grandchildren with the same kind of precious memories my grandparents gave me.

We Are All Looking For The Magic Bullet

2009-07-26T11:09:00.002-04:00

Weight loss is just hard. I don’t care if you are 20 lbs. overweight or 200 lbs. over, losing weight takes effort, sacrifice, and time. We want it to be simple, some easy answer we have not thought of, a Magic Bullet if you will. The only Magic Bullet I know of is the blender pictured at right, as seen on TV.

I have long struggled with my weight but only recently has my weight been a problem for me. I was average size in high school. I have never been made fun of or been called names because of my weight until the Redneck in the Red Truck chased me. I was never stopped from doing anything because of my weight and my husband loved my curves. I never minded being overweight and spent a lot of time trying to show the world that fat does not mean lazy, stupid, or ugly.

I lost weight – I’ve lost 50 pounds at least 3 separate times through low fat eating or Weight Watchers and exercise. Then I got older. My blood pressure became elevated and I hate taking medication. Losing the fat got harder.

Last year I was going to Curves at least 3 days a week and going to Weight Watchers. I would gain a pound, lose a pound and at the end of 6 months, I was right where I had started . . . . . fat. So I gave up. And instantly . . . really . . . like in 4 weeks . . . I gained 20 pounds, putting me at my highest weight yet and NO, I won’t tell you what it is.

And my knees bother me. And I have no energy. I have always been big but I have never felt FAT until now. Where did these lumps come from? And what is that hanging under my upper arms? I was looking at a photo of me on the beach where I am sitting on the sand with my legs straight out to each side. I look like a six month old looks when you plop them down on the floor with all the requisite rolls of fat and splayed out legs holding them up. Ewwwwwwwww!

So it’s time. I have to do this again and I want to do it. But I have to do it my way this time. Weight Watchers has always worked well for me and it is an excellent program but I have to do something different. Armed with the knowledge I have gained from various diet programs that have worked for me, some HungryGirl.com recipes for desperate times, and my Magic Bullet blender I think I can do this. My kids are onboard and we could all eat healthier anyway. And for anyone that has ever seen the show Ruby on the Style Network, she is such an inspiration for anyone that is trying to lose weight. If she can do it, I can too.

I have done a lot of soul searching to understand the way my brain works in these situations. Losing weight is all really mental anyway. I know that I can’t set goals like most experts suggest – I just don’t work well with goals. My goal is to lose weight until I’m satisfied and healthy. I will not weigh myself until I can see a huge difference in my clothes – weight is all about a number and I can’t get hung up on numbers. And exercise is something I will work up to and get in different ways. I have always hated “exercise” but I love athletic games, hiking, and being active but I have not been getting out of the house a lot lately. Again, no set goals like 30 minutes, 3 times a week. I will just focus on getting some movement and activity in every day and not sitting in front of the TV or computer.

So now, my journey begins. I’m sure I will keep you posted on how it’s going.

Motherhood

2009-07-19T21:55:00.002-04:00

"The moment a child is born, the mother is also born. She never existed before. The woman existed, but the mother, never. A mother is something absolutely new."
~Rajneesh

It doesn’t matter how old your children are, you are still their mother. As they grow older, it gets easier but some things never change. Like when they are sick, they need you.

My daughter was fighting off a virus most of the week. On Friday night, I had an appointment and my daughter met me afterwards so we could get some dinner. She was sluggish but wanted to go out to eat so we got into my car and left her car parked.

As I drove, I made some suggestions and her lukewarm reaction told me to keep going. We passed several restaurants and she again made it clear they were not options. After driving for about 10 minutes, she began whining and said “Can we just go home?”

So as a mom, I turned the car around. My stomach was growling and I suggested that I would call someplace and pick up an order. Again, whining. “Mom, I think I’m going to throw up.” I asked if she needed me to pull over and she said yes.

We were driving on a fairly busy road so my plan was to turn at the next street and when I did, there wasn’t really a place to pull over. As I pulled into a parking lot, she covered her mouth. I pulled over quickly and told her to open the door. She had one hand over her mouth and one on the door and she was gagging. I told her again to open the door. Why wasn’t she opening the door?

I quickly found out. Being the wonderful Mom that I am, I forgot to put the car in park so the doors would unlock. She couldn’t get the door open and then it was too late. The term “blowing chunks” became quite clear to me visually and there was evidence of it all over the passenger side window. And all over the seat, her clothes, the dashboard and the door.

All of my worst experiences in motherhood can be lumped into one category – puke. My son has given me many experiences in this area, stories for another day. The picture above is of a statue my mother gave me when I was 21. It embodies motherhood for me, the look of joy on the mother’s and the child’s face. But reality is, the baby is at the perfect angle to puke right on the mom. It probably happened right after they posed for this sculpture.

My daughter was fine. She stripped down, cleaned off herself and the door, wrapped a towel around herself and we headed home where she crawled into bed and slept for about 14 hours.

I spent the evening reminding myself that motherhood is a wild and wonderful ride.

Family is Family

2009-07-15T17:05:00.002-04:00

Meet my family. At left is my youngest sister Andie. We all attended her wedding this past weekend to her man Josh. With them is Andie’s son Taj who is six. On the right is a photo of my sister Mickey, new brother-in-law Josh, my brother Chip, and my Dad. We were all enjoying the reception.

We LOOK like a normal family.

When I was younger, I thought we were an average family, pretty much like all other families. But as I grew older, I learned the truth. Not that we were crazy dysfunctional or anything – that would kind of be normal. We just did things differently than most families and we have very strong personalities in our family.

My mom was a calm, steadying force in our family. But mom was also one that encouraged creativity, exploration, and individuality. She was all of those things herself. And that is what we have – four children with four distinctly different personalities. Put us together and you never know what you will get. Usually you get a really good story to tell later.

My youngest sister, Andie, has led the most interesting life. She is much younger than the rest of us - I am the oldest and Andie was born when I was in college. Without going into all the stories of her life, I will say that she lives her life on her own terms, doesn’t really care what others think, and she is one of the smartest people I know. That’s just the way she handled her wedding.

Andie and Josh stood in a circle of crystals and stones under a huge tree in a butterfly garden at Balboa Park in San Diego. Andie wore a necklace that contained our mom’s ashes in the form of a butterfly. They combined their family faith traditions using a Celtic handfasting ceremony and a Jewish breaking of the glass at the end of the ceremony. Mazel tov!

Participating in the ceremony were the 2 children that were born of eggs that Andie donated to a gay couple. Each man has a biological child of their own, created with Andie’s eggs. They are the most beautiful children and their dad’s are wonderful amazing men that I consider part of my family. It was interesting to compare genetic traits and to see where they come from. And I love that Andie, Josh, and Taj have a close relationship to their family. My mom would have loved to have known them all.

Andie’s friends were so welcoming and friendly and intensely loyal to her. Some people would call them hippies – I know I do – but in a good way. There are lots of dreadlocks, hemp, and patchouli – how can you not call them hippies? But I would rather spend those hours with open, honest, friendly, non-judgemental hippies any day. We had a great time at the reception. Of course the reception was vegetarian and vegan so some of us were looking for a steak about 7 o’clock but everything tasted really good, great music and dancing, lots of fun.

I shared some of the stories from the wedding with a co-worker upon my return. He kept saying “Really? Really?? REALLY???” Then he told me I had one of the most bizarre families. I said “Yes, yes I do”.

And there was so much more that I didn’t tell, to him or here in this post. Those are stories for another day.

The Quest for Mennonite Bread

2009-07-07T21:31:00.007-04:00

My friend Rose and I went with some friends on a scrapbook weekend retreat last fall in Crossville, Tennessee. While there, a group of us went to a nearby country store run by members of the Mennonite Community where they have the most wonderful bread and home baked goods and cheeses. Many conversations since then have included the bread we had that day and we have said that we just need to go and find that store again. But neither Rose nor I could remember the name of it.

On the 4th of July, Rose and her husband were in the vicinity of Crossville and looking for the store. She called me to see if I could remember the name. I could not but my daughter looked it up on her phone and found Muddy Pond General Store. That didn't really match mine or Rose's memory of the store but hey, it was the only listing for a Mennonite Store around Crossville so that must be it, right? Rose and her husband went looking but before they found it, some locals told her they were closed for the holiday. Ahhhhhh, no bread for you.

Since then, I have been thinking about that bread. Since I had to go to Nashville today, I thought it would be a good chance to stop by on my way back. I looked up the address online and saved it in my GPS. The description still didn't sound like the store we went to but again, Mennonite store, Crossville, how many could there be? It probably wouldn't be open when I was on my way back from Nashville but at least I could find it and we would know where it was, right?

Heading back from Nashville, I took the exit indicated on the GPS and wound down the curvy roads of little Monterey, Tennessee. I turned, I turned again. Down another country road to Muddy Pond Rd. Then Glenda, the GPS lady said "Arriving at destination, on left". I looked to the left . . . nothing but trees. I looked to the right . . . nothing but a huge open field. I went a little further. Nothing for miles.

Not wanting to tempt fate and not having the slightest idea where I was in deliverance country, I punched "HOME" on the GPS. Glenda said "In 1.2 miles, turn right". I would just head home and save this adventure for another day. Glenda was talking to me again. She was telling me to turn right. Ummmmmm, all I see is a gravel road but on the GPS it is very well laid out. Maybe Glenda is taking me on a short cut to a main road. I trusted Glenda and headed down the gravel road.

The gravel road was very long but every curve and turn was showing on the GPS screen. I've seen stranger things so I kept going. Then Glenda betrayed me. The gravel road became a dirt road all of a sudden and I was on it. I call it a dirt road but it was more like two dirt tire tracks with a patch of grass between them. I was looking for a place to turn around. There wasn't one. Ahead of me was big puddles of water. NO WAY was I going through that. I will just turn around here thank you very much.

I backed up and turned the wheels, running across fallen brances and brush then turned the wheels back the other way and pulled forward. Back and then forward, back and then forward, turning a little more each time and crunching the fallen tree limbs and sticker bushes behind me. Then, all of a sudden, the front tires were spinning and mud was flying up all over my windsheild. I cut the tires and backed up. Mud sprayed down the driver side of my car. I said my curse words that cannot be written here. I was stuck. Sideways on a dirt road.

I am very lucky to have a company car with great roadside assistance included. The problem was . . . what t road was I on and in what city? They might need to know that. Glenda, the GPS lady says I am on Low Gap Lane but am I in Monterey or Crossville or Muddy Pond or some other hole in the wall? I explained my confusion to the road side assistance guy who probably wondered why anyone that would follow a GPS down a dirt road could be expected to know what road they were on. But he found me a tow truck and said they would be there within an hour.

Tim, the owner/operator of Norrad's Garage in Monterey, showed up within 30 minutes. He looked at me, looked at the car and I know he wanted to laugh but he just shook his head. He said "Well, we can't pull you forward and we can't pull you back, hmmmmmmm." As far as I was concerned he could hook up under the side of the car and pull it out by the axle or the door frame but just get me out of here. He assessed some more and then starting hooking up cables and straps. "We are going to drag the front out sideways". Uhhhhh huh.

So I got in, put it in neutral and followed his directions - Foot on the brake, let off and turn the wheels to the right, hold up, turn the wheels to the left, hold on, foot on the brake again. And he dragged the front across and through the mud, turning it 45 degrees and straight back onto the road. I was smiling, he was smiling. Yay. If you are ever stuck in the mud near Monterey, Tennessee you should call Tim!

After I followed Tim out to a paved road, I decided to trust Glenda to get me out of there. She turned me down a couple of windy narrow country roads and then said "Turn right onto Hwy -62". I can't say I have ever been happy to see paint down the middle of concrete before but I knew when I saw those two painted yellow lines that it was leading me to civilization.

I called my friend Rose and asked her to remind me that the bread really was worth all this. I shared my story while she rolled on the floor laughing. Then about 30 minutes later she sent me a text saying she found the name of the store and it's address and Muddy Pond General Store was not even the right one. REALLY!!!!!!

So I am still on a quest to find the store and get some Mennonite bread. But not anytime soon.

Vacation Conversations

2009-07-03T10:51:00.004-04:00

Every year, my family, along with my friend Robin and her family venture off on a joint vacation to the beach. While this started very small, as a girl's weekend away, it has evolved into a larger gathering that includes friends of children and significant others.

Our requirements for accommodations have evolved also. We require a house due to the number of people. And now . . . after various experiences . . . we require a house ON the beach. Right on the beach. Not a cheap proposition.

This year's trip came close to not happening. About a month ago, Robin's boyfriend of 5 years, Matt, had a motorcycle accident and broke his clavicle. Then two weeks later he fell, re-breaking it, requiring surgery to repair the damage. The next day he notified his employer of the need for surgery and that afternoon they called to tell him he was laid off. There was quite a lot of drama swirling around this trip, money issues, emotional outbursts and such. But, in the end, we were able to work it out and everyone piled into the vehicles and we started out on the 9 hour drive.

As we arrived, this was the conversation:

Them: There is nothing around here.
Me: Exactly!
Them: It's like 6 miles from the back door to the beach.
Me: Wow, that's a lot farther than it looked in the picture.
Them: Cool, we can build a fire on the beach at night!

And they did just that. And during the evening around the fire, the mosquitoes were horrible, biting feet and ankles the whole time. We vowed to get bug spray the next day. Except that the bites were horrible during the night and why did they only bite around the ankles and feet? Robin's boyfriend and my daughter's boyfriend's feet swelled up due to the number of bites and itching. My daughter got on the internet. Sand fleas? Or Yellow Biting Flies? Either way, we might be in hell. Baking soda and water, a locally recommended anti-septic, and leaving socks and shoes on at night were the solution but the bites and itching lasted all week.

We have to have a canopy on the beach. Some of us, those with Irish ancestry, cannot take the direct sun for long periods. And some of us, those who take medication, simply burn right through the 50 spf sunscreen. We have been borrowing other people's shade canopies for the last few years but I decided to splurge and buy one this year. A good one. Good ones cost money. But it would be worth it.

We enjoyed the canopy. Lots of space, great shade. The second night, the wind got a little rough and turned the canopy over. The boys caught it and set it upright, not noticing that there seemed to be some damage to one of the supports. And also not thinking to put the stakes in so that wouldn't happen again. The next morning, Robin, my daughter, and I headed for the beach and noticed that the tent was sagging a little on one side. As we examined it, we found that one of the supports was bent. My daughter pushed on it. It snapped. Ummmmmmmm, really? $200 and this is what I get? We got some packing tape and rigged the side back together but it was obvious that it would not last.

Later that afternoon, the wind picked up. Then it picked up some more. We were surprised by a gust of wind that picked up the canopy, turned it over and danced it down the beach. It looked like a gymnast doing floor exercises during the Olympics. It flipped and rolled at least 10 times, followed by us and some of our neighbors yelling and chasing after it. When we finally got it stopped, it was a tangled, twisted mess, suitable only for the dumpster, to which we quickly dragged it. My conversation:

Me: Really??? Did that really just happen to my $200 canopy? The one that was supposed to last 10 years?
Them: We really should have put the stakes in it.
Me: You think? I have to have a canopy.
The Neighbor Guy: We got ours for $70 at Piggly Wiggly in St. Joe.
Me: I'm leaving now. $70 huh? It will probably last forever.

So I bought another canopy. For $70. And when they put it together, they put the stakes in it. And it lasted all week and will probably last forever.

Sooooo . . . anytime you put 11 different personalities and ages and lifestyles in a house there are bound to be conflicts. That is to be expected and was anticipated. And we had our share of minor conflicts but they were resolved easily. But Robin's boyfriend had a hard time. I think it all boiled down to the fact that nothing in his life was in his control. So he tried to control the vacation.

I'm not sure if you realize this from reading my blog but . . . I am NOT easily controlled. While I was understanding of his situation, it was wearing on my nerves. It wasn't any one thing that got to me, just a lot of little minor things. Along about Wednesday, this conversation took place:

Me: What is wrong with him?
Robin: I am going crazy. He is making everyone crazy.
Me: He did NOT act like this last year.
Robin: I think I might hate him right now.
Me: You, me, and everyone else. But we will be nice, I promise.

Later that afternoon, I went up to start making the hamburger patties for dinner. When I got there, Boyfriend had made them and put big hunks of onion in them. About half the people with us hate onions and won't eat them. I told him that. He said "They'll be okay" and he walked outside. I started to load the dishwasher to take my mind of the fact that I really wanted to rip out his jugular. I reached into the bottom rack and was stabbed in the finger by the tip of a knife. Boyfriend obviously doesn't understand dishwasher etiquette and now I was bleeding! I couldn't help it. I started to cry. How embarrassing. I couldn't stop. So the conversation went something like this:

Robin and my Daughter: Oh my gosh, what's wrong? Are you hurt?
Me: No. Nothing's wrong. Nothing! NOTHING!
Robin and Daughter: Tell me!
Me: NO! Somebody make me a drink. With . . . THIS . . . much rum and . . . this . . . much diet coke.

After that, I just stayed away from him. I tried to remember what he was going through. Everyone was having a good time despite the sand fleas/yellow biting flies, the long walk to the beach, the canopy disaster, the 100 degree heat, and Boyfriend's obstinance. So I had a good time too. But the girls made a decision. This is how the conversation went:

Me: I miss the girl's weekends.
Robin and Daughter: We do too.
Me: I don't want to give up these weeks with the whole family and friends but it doesn't have the magic that the girl's weekends did. So why can't we do the girl's weekends too? It would be cheaper and less stressful.
Robin and Daughter: We could. We could do a 4 day weekend, just the girls, in addition to the week in the summer with everyone.

So that's what we will do. That was my favorite conversation all week.

Beachin' It

2009-06-23T09:23:00.004-04:00

We are at the beach and relaxing. It's my vacation. The one I long for all year long.

Some of you may remember the stories from last year's beach trip. Lots of drama and silliness. I think this year is a little different, much quieter so far. That's a good thing.

Our internet access is very, very spotty so I may or may not be able to update during this week. But if I cannot, there will be lots of stories and photos for next week.

Have a wonderful week. I will be thinking about all of you as I enjoy the waves.

If You Can't Be Good, Be Good At It

2009-06-13T13:39:00.005-04:00

This is a favorite dish in my family. I have been making it for years and it has evolved and changed over time. Now my son likes to make it as he did this morning. It's not really healthy but it sure is good. So I am giving you the recipe. Be reminded - I am a "southern cook" meaning I rarely measure and I add or take away things all the time. So this recipe is just like I make it - estimated. If you need structure, I apologize in advance.

Hashbrown Casserole

1 Bag of frozen hashbrowns, either shredded or chunky southern style - we like the southern style

Ground sausage or diced ham - we like Jimmy Dean Lite Sausage which is a mix of regular and turkey sausage. We created the recipe with diced ham which is always good too. How much is up to you. If we use sausage, we use 1 roll. If you use ham, it is about 1 1/2 to 2 cups diced.

1 1/2 to 2 cups Grated Cheese - A mix of colby and cheddar is best but any kind you like is good.

Oil

Salt and Pepper - to taste

Onion Powder - about 1 tsp

Seasoned Salt - about 1/2 tsp

Garlic - about 1/2 tsp

Start by scrambling the sausage or ham in a large skillet until cooked through. Don''t drain. Add oil into the skillet - how much is up to you. Just add enough so that the hashbrowns can cook. Let the oil heat up and then add the whole bag of hashbrowns. Add salt, pepper, onion powder, garlic, and seasoned salt. I just sprinkle them on until it looks right. Stir well and frequently and cook over medium heat for approximately 30 minutes or until the hashbrowns are soft. I usually put a lid on the skillet after about 15 minutes and let it steam a little as it cooks but still stir it about every 5 minutes. Once the hashbrowns are browned and soft, turn the heat off and sprinkle on the cheese. Put the lid back on and let it sit for about 5 minutes to let the cheese melt.

You can add green pepper, diced onions, red peppers, or other seasonings. My husband used to add hot sauce. I have a friend that makes it and adds scrambled eggs at the end before she adds the cheese. It is a very flexible recipe.

Enjoy!

I Knew It Was Coming

2009-06-06T09:36:00.004-04:00

I was traveling most of this week. It was busy, busy, busy. I was in St. Louis for meetings and I was busy from morning into late evening. But I knew the day was coming.

My late husband passed away on June 3rd back in 2001. I have written before on this blog about Gary. You can read those posts here and here. His birthday was on June 11th and our anniversary was on June 20th. I pretty much dread the month of June.

But I was going to be busy on June 3rd. I would have my mind on other things. I would be distracted from the significance of the day. I would be around friends and we would be working. That was my plan.

And it worked. I made it through the day without really thinking about what the day represented. I flew home and got in around midnight. My kids were up and we chatted. I had to get up early for a doctor's appointment so I went to bed.

The next morning I was sitting in the waiting room at my appointment. It was taking longer than normal so I got out my blackberry to catch up on Facebook and emails I had missed over the last few days. I went to Facebook and my daughter had updated her status the night before. It said "Can't believe it's really been 8 years. I love you Daddy".

Tears rolled, right there in the waiting room. People stared. I wiped them away. More tears came. Damn tears.

I knew it was coming.

Sweet!

2009-05-30T13:47:00.004-04:00

Sometimes I need motivation to do things, even things I love. You all know from reading this blog that one of my passions is photography. I love the creativity and challenge of photography. Even when you love something, sometimes you need a break.

I have been taking a break. I used to carry my camera with me everywhere. I bought purses based on whether or not my 35mm camera with huge zoom lens would fit in them. I took photos pretty much daily.

Then sometime around the holidays, I got tired of trying to come up with something different. I got a little bored. I took a photography class with my son and other than working on assignments and a couple of family outings, I pretty much left my camera alone.

The other day, I learned of a Flickr group called Project 50. It challenges it's members to take 50 photos (1 every day) for 50 days with a 50mm lens. Since my 50mm lens is my favorite and I could take photos during the challenge of anything I wanted, I decided to join the group.

I took my first shot today. While I was on the way home yesterday, I stopped at a small stand and bought a few cupcakes. The "Chocolate Covered Strawberry" cupcake was just sitting there this morning, with it's red and white sprinkles atop the creamy brown icing, just begging to be photographed. I tried shooting it in the kitchen. The light wasn't right. I moved it into the sunroom. The light was good but the background was boring. Finally I took a box with a blue top and set it on top of a stack of magazines right in front of the window. Score!

I love it when motivation strikes. I can't wait until tomorrow to do my next shot. I have an idea planned out already. It's been a long time since I planned out a photo shoot. I am excited. Can you tell?