I’ve been working, walking, reading and repeating.
Autumn colors from my daily walks
Some travel. A few meetings.
All the calls.
The demand is constant, it never slows.
Demands mount.
Fires loom.
The pace, the pressure, the expectations can be unreal ~ some have left, moving on to other opportunities. New stress and chaos, most likely!
Evening arrives, laptop closes, phone is muted.. and I read.
Recently I celebrated my 20th year with the company and a Sr. Exec. asked about future plans, including retirement. Well, I’m not there yet. It’s closer than it was but it’s still far off on the horizon. He asked, “When that day comes, what are you going to do?” My response, without skipping a beat, “Live! And read all the books I haven’t had time for yet ….” 😀
yes!!!
“I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. I can never train myself in all the skills I want. And why do I want? I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in my life.” ― Sylvia Plath,The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
“Attitude is a choice. Happiness is a choice. Optimism is a choice. Kindness is a choice. Giving is a choice. Respect is a choice. Whatever choice you make makes you. Choose wisely.” – Roy T. Bennett, “The Light in the Heart”
Autumn makes me happy. Of all my seasons to choose from, this is the one that makes my heart sing ~ the colors, the sights, the smells. I love Autumn!
My favorite neighborhood tree!
A dog’s attitude is a great reminder on how to live: play, play, play, sleep.
Sully with a stick = happiness
Being and staying healthy makes me happy.
And grateful.
Every day I choose to put myself on the “to-do” list I’ve carried for 40+ years.
I choose movement, engagement, discernment, nutrition, and sleep.
I choose by turning off the “news” & smart phones and reaching for a book instead.
I choose by tuning out the voices who blather on with opinions on issues or choices they’ve never lived, researched, or attempted.
I choose to walk outside even if that involves gloves and long johns.
I choose to go to bed sooner and get up earlier to savor the sacred stillness of a quiet morning.
I choose to honor my body with real, whole foods made at home by yours truly.
I choose me.
What are you choosing? Have you put yourself on your “to-do” list yet? If not, why not? If not now, when?
Chatting with my sister yesterday we laughed about how, like Mom, we wear the same things over and over: A raggedy tee shirt, a fraying nightie, favorite shorts with a rip in the pocket.
There’s comfort in old clothes and in old things ~ they’re worn and soft and easy on the skin. We know what to expect and they deliver. It’s not that we can’t buy new clothes, we can. It’s not that we can’t wear new clothes, we do. But, time and again, we reach for what’s comfortable, what’s familiar, what endures.
Old recipes on batter-stained pages.
Coffee cups that fit our hands.
The love of an old pet who leans in for more.
How good the house smells as something simmers in the kitchen.
We talked further about “the good stuff,” about how, as you get older, material “stuff” matters less and less. What we want are connections, meaningful conversations, comfortable temperatures, good stories, tasty foods, deep sleep, great coffee, and loyal friends. We want our kids and grands and pets to be OK and everyone we know to feel safe and loved and remembered. And in the chaos this year has brought we reach for the good stuff.
It’s Sunday in Summer and time for 5 randoms from my world. Ready? Let’s go!
1 ) Pandemic Groceries – Still working my way through our pandemic-groceries. Background: at the start of the lock-downs, Hubbs was doing the weekly grocery shopping, a task he enjoyed very much. I pulled the plug on his outings given his asthma & other risk factors. Other risk factors included the potential for altercations in Aisle #5 (paper aisle). But before our shift change in late-April, he was Mr. Pandemic-buyer. I think we have enough canned goods to last to 2028. With just two of us, it was already difficult to cook “small,” (I grew up in a family of 7… leftovers were a rarity in my house, and Mom prepared multiple meals daily). But while I’ve teased him about his purchases, I admit to having enjoyed “perusing” the pantry to set a meal plan for the week. Not ours, but pantry-envy worthy!
2 ) Hanging on – There’s been a shift again working remotely ~ we haven’t re-ordered letterhead or business cards. With no in-person meetings now or anytime soon, there’s simply no need. Logos & return addresses can be affixed digitally, e-copies suffice. Conversely, my days are longer than ever because I start earlier and work later. I exercise early mornings but rarely take breaks or more than 15 minutes for lunch. It’s not uncommon to have Corporate schedule (video) calls that start at 5pm, 6pm or later. It’s a weird world nowadays. I’m adapting, what else can you do?
Hanging on!
3 ) Great trees make me grin – Below are a few of my favorite neighborhood trees ~ totally climb-able. Being raised a prairie child I shall forever appreciate a great tree.
Aren’t they gorgeous?
4 ) Quiet: The older and busier I get the more I savor quiet ~ the quiet of an early morning, a Sunday afternoon, or that moment when dusk turns to night. Hubbs is a TV-on-all-the-time kind of guy. He often wanders through the house to find me tucked into a book, the only sound that of a slow summer fan. Ahh.
“Have you ever heard the wonderful silence just before the dawn? Or the quiet and calm just as a storm ends? Or perhaps you know the silence when you haven’t the answer to a question you’ve been asked, or the hush of a country road at night, or the expectant pause of a room full of people when someone is just about to speak, or, most beautiful of all, the moment after the door closes and you’re alone in the whole house? Each one is different, you know, and all very beautiful if you listen carefully.” ― Norton Juster, The Phantom Tollbooth.
The magic of a summer read in a house full of quiet.
5 ) Driving. I don’t know what’s up but some appear to have lost their ability to make rational decisions AND drive at the same time. I blame the masks!
Going through family photos last year, I snapped cell photos of the ones I wanted and this one takes me right back to our farm Kitchen, the heart of our home.
and Emjayandthem (C) photo
– The morning sun streaming in through sheer curtains trimmed in cheery yellow.
– The metal pail to the right, filled with garden tools and produce.
– A can of coffee and a tin of Raleigh salve atop the fridge.
– …. and our family rocking chair.
It’s where she sat restless kids or misbehavers, those who needed “time to think.”
It’s where she put us as she laced up shoes & boots, tied scarves and matched up mittens.
It’s where she placed items before heading to town – a baby gift, a dessert to drop at the rink, a bill to be paid.
It’s where she read to us – and where we learned that, reading to children, even before they can understand words, teaches them to associate books with love and affection.
She taught us there was always time for stories, for love and affection.
September is here ~ I’m delighted because it’s one of my favorite months!
I’m leaningin for:
A steady stream of sunny days
A significant drop in humidity (my hair approves!)
Stew simmering in the Crock pot
This morning the kitchen smells of savory meat, root vegetables and pepper
No fall candle can top that!
The start of College Football
Windows open, A/C off
Sweater weather returns
But we may need shorts & a hoodie in the same day!
Tracking Hurricane Dorian and scrolling through other news stories, this caught my attention:
When I was a girl, we ended up with a Pit Bull at our farm ~ one of Dad’s jockeys brought him to Canada from Louisiana, probably illegally. He was skinny and jumpy, tied up all day in the city. Brian brought him out in the spring when they broke horses and when he left, Butkus stayed. Filled out. Bulked up. He followed Dad everywhere ~ he snorted and drooled and intimidated everyone who pulled into the farm yard. But he was a big baby ~ a cuddle bear, he loved to play tug-o-war and lie on his back for belly scratches. The irony of his ruff & tuff exterior was that it was two “safe” dog breeds – an idiot neighbor’s Labrador & Dalmatian, who got to him. They fought, he lost; he crawled home where he died in my Dad’s arms. #therearenobaddogs
Now, I don’t want to end this post with you upset and sad, so I offer you this —
I was so looking forward to this day: a gathering at a friends’ lake house. A day of sunshine, water, good eats, laughter, camaraderie & pontoon rides. A day of good tunes, easy conversations, jet skis, sunblock and beach hair.
Like I do, I carefully planned the foods I’d bring, deciding on a fresh peach/blueberry cobbler & an appetizer dip. Hubbs and I eagerly anticipated the day, the forecast was perfect for a country ride “up” to the lake house, and the camaraderie we were soon to experience.
Arriving just after 1pm we set down the coolers and arranged chairs; food covered their kitchen counter and friends hugged hello, gathering around the patio table. Classic 70s rock playing in the background, a waterfall trickled softly and we savored the summer breeze off the lake.
Soon the Hostess asked if I was up for a ride on her “new” jet ski, the high powered one gleaming in the distance. “You bet,” I answered but “let’s visit first.” And so we did. When I offered how I didn’t bring my swimsuit andjust had a tee shirt & shorts she promised, “I won’t get you wet.” And I know she knows what she’s doing .. so I went with it.
As we strapped on life vests and headed to the dock, another couple joined the party – so soon came more greetings before climbing onto the Sea-do. Heading to the open water, with my pal driving and me holding tight, we navigated smaller waves until a time she could “open it up” – flying now – fast and tight, my hair whipping behind me, I caught a glimpse at the speedometer: 57mph. Shrieking, we leaned into a turn, jumped the wake left by a puttering pontoon boat, both of us rocketing forward and laughing our heads off. Hanging on, fully exhilarated, truly living.
Having an “it-doesn’t-get-better-than-this-moment,” and then some. 😀
Life is too short to sit on the shore!
We circled a few times then made our way back to the dock where friends gathered, men on the deck, ladies on chairs in the shallow water, waves lapping their calves. Coasting into shore, I commented on how good of a driver my friend is, and thanked her that I did not have one drop of water on me, amazing! We hopped off and waded towards shore, where the women gathered. With everyone watching, one gal commented “you went all that way and didn’t even get wet” and I nodded and smiled, about to compliment my friend on her excellent command of the machine. But before I could do so, that same woman reached down and, with both hands, doused me in water, from head to toe. Water soaked my hair, dripped down my sunglasses and face, top, shorts and underwear now completely drenched, with rivulets of water running down my legs. I stood there in shocked disbelief, having my own “Carrie” moment, trying to come to terms with what just happened.
What. The. ??? What’s wrong with you?
Stephen King’s 1970’s Horror classic, “Carrie”
Looking back, there’s a part of me that almost did what I’d always done: “take the high road” “turn the other cheek” and all that other passive bullsh*t I’d been preached to my whole life. The same words that always translated to justlie down, be quiet and take it.
And I might have done that until I saw another so-called friend laughing.
And that was it. That was the tipping point.
Shaking water off my sunglasses while simultaneously wiping it from my eyes I looked around at those who looked away, said nothing, and the splasher and that one “friend” laughing.
All at my expense. Nice.
I’m 5’2″ and the splasher well she’s 3 years younger and 4″ taller.
But it only took an second – I lunged at her with both hands, knocking her off her feet.
I’m petty sure she got air before landing in that lake sideways with a thud. Sputtering she got up yelling, flailing and swearing …. “I thought you were a nice girl” and my response was this, “I am. You started it. Want some more?”
Women backed off, clucked, fussed and did nothing.
Someone said “this feels like High School” and I answered “YEP it sure does, I hope you all remember who started it. Just keep it up and I’ll finish it!”
I probably should feel remorse …. but I don’t.
I probably should be embarrassed …. but I’m not.
I hit her with everything I’ve got and then some. And I’d do it again.
#Sorrynotsorry
Maybe when bullies decide they’re going to pick someone’s hide, they should consider who they’re picking: in my case, she picked a 50-something woman who’s had enough of immature jerks and is no longer going to lie down and take it.
And I have better insurance, too.
Gotta love me some TOWANDA!
Your turn:
When’s the last time you dealt with a bully?
What did you do?
In the situation described above, what would you have done if you were me?
Why?
If you ever retaliated against someone’s nastiness, how did leave you feeling?
I don’t feel great about it, but I don’t feel bad, either. 😀
This should be a national holiday .. with paid time off .. with cozy chairs and coffee/tea for anyone interested. 😀
I’ve written before of my love affair with books .. and it hearkens back to being a very young girl. Cozied up next to Mom while she read me a story, I remember the heat of her body on mine as I leaned in wide-eyed and wondering.
Mom took me for my first Library card before I started school and I still remember the joy felt filling the book bag up to the top, the weight of it necessitating a drag to the Oldsmobile. Sorting through my choices, the smells filling my senses, I lined my books up in order of priority.
I remember a similar thrill when the Book Fair came ’round each school year ~ bringing home the paper-thin order sheet and circling choices, then handing my list over for her review and approval. She always encouraged us to “read up,” and we discussed choices and our reasoning behind them. Looking back, I can see she favored intelligent choices and those fought hard for. And if you couldn’t defend it, you didn’t need it.
Another one of her life lessons right there!
And, as I’ve grown, books remain a comfort to me ~ a place I love to belong.
A summer read takes me back to our backyard canvas tent, reading my sister’s “Valley of the Dolls” or “Love Story” before moving on to “It” or “Roots” or other intriguing plots.
A winter read can transport me back under the covers of our shared girls’ bedroom, the weight of winter blankets cocooning me into a drowsy state of relaxation.
It’s National Book Lovers Day ~ but I’m celebrating all year long!
“A great book should leave you with many experiences, and slightly exhausted at the end. You live several lives while reading.” ― William Styron, Conversations with William Styron
Are you celebrating National Book Lovers Day with me?
If you’re a reader, who encouraged your love of reading?
It’s August already! Summer took forever to arrive and now it’s flying by .. “Back to School” supplies have been on store shelves since 4 seconds after the 4th. We’ll blink and Halloween will be here.
For me, the first half of the year flew by due to copious amounts of work travel, work schedule, work projects, work calls and … work.
One thing that’s saved me has been steadily indulging my passion: reading. I’m devouring books on planes and in hotel rooms; picking up more at bookstores in tiny towns as I pass through. I’ve lost count of the number read this summer … but it’s not about the number. It’s about the departure. Falling into a good book is like coming home.
Just finished. Delicious!
Recently I saw these words below and they resonated with me. Not just because I adore the fruits of summer … cherries, watermelon, and fresh peaches coming soon … but because, just like in life, we can’t feel our growth until the fruits begin to appear.
This recentarticleabout a suspected Rhino poacher who was trampled by Elephant(s) and then eaten by lions .. y-ouch!
It takes me back to working for a belligerent trophy-hunting executive years ago, the one whose African Safari journey ended in a big fat slice of Karma Pie.
this is what I imagine Karma pie to look like .. but maybe it’s chunky and hard to choke down?
