Life

I'm lucky in that I've never had a lot handed to me. In other words, life has frequently been difficult. I say I'm lucky, not because I'm a masochist or anything, but because it's lowered the bar tremendously in my expectations in life. And with the bar sufficiently low, I find it easier to be quite content in life.

I have tried to instill a bit of this in my children as I raised them. I had hoped that I was giving them a jump start at the lessons that took me so long to learn. I think that, once learned, these lessons will serve them well throughout their life.

My motto has now developed into: Life is good, but that doesn't mean it's easy.

Crying

I cried today. Not an all-out sobbing or anything, but one of those choked-up, tearing-eyed crying that makes you feel incredibly helpless.

Why is this blog worthy? Did anything happen to me you ask? No, it was just a sappy holiday movie (see earlier blog) about the intertwining lives of four incredibly lonely people one Christmas. I usually prefer the sappy romantic holiday stories, but this one looked promising - unlike the one I'd watched directly before it, or the one I watched after it.

The reason why the cry was blog worthy is that I never cry. I don't mean that I've never cried. I just mean that I never seem to cry any more. Oh, and I'm not talking about those catastrophic life moments that make us all cry - just your average, everyday periods of crying. So back to why this is blog worthy, its because I don't think I've done more than get a little misty in a few years. Maybe it's a side effect of the hysterectomy a few years back. Or maybe it's just that I've lived through everything and there aren't many things that take me to that emotional level anymore. Or maybe it means that my old heart has withered. Who knows.

But today I cried. It wasn't when the old man who was afraid to die alone died with someone beside him holding his hand. It wasn't when the man in the hospital felt released of a burden he'd been carrying. It wasn't when the young couple got back together and discovered they were having a baby. It wasn't when the lady with Alzheimer's reached out and held her daughter's hand. It was when the doctor fumblingly asked his patient's daughter (who hadn't had a date in about 10 years)to have dinner with him . . . and she said yes.

Oh crap, I am truly pathetic.

Sea Shells

This time of year, with the holiday approaching and the weather getting colder, I begin thinking of the ocean and the beach. I love the beach. It's the one place in the whole world where my mind can empty out and I'm completely in the moment.

Since I was a little girl, I somehow have multiple thoughts going on my head all the time. In order to go to sleep at night, I had to focus really hard on one thought just to crowd out all the others. As with most people, I've found that as I got older life often got a little too chaotic - especially as a single parent when the expectations on my time always outnumbered the hours in each day. I made it through those years but haven't learned how to turn the brain off. I don't seem to be able to multi-task in my activities -- but I can't stop the brain from multi-tasking. It's in overdrive all the time. Except on the beach.

When I'm on the beach I can stare out into the waves and let the roar fill my head. And I hear nothing else. When I walk on the beach, looking for shells, I let the waves lap my ankles and listen to the gulls. And I hear nothing else.

So at this time of year when the temperature begins to dip, the wind begins to whip outside, and the whole world seems to be in crazy overdrive mode, I think of the beach, the roar of the ocean, the lapping of the waves, and the sea shells. All is good.

Driving

After a few days gone, I drove home tonight. It was nice.

Driving - for me at least - is never a really enjoyable activity. Cars are never comfortable, other drivers annoy me, I don't like focusing on one thing for that long (my mind tends to wander), and I keep thinking I have other things I could be doing. I definitely don't get excited about the "handling" of a car on the road. I don't itch to get back in the driver's seat. I just don't get it. I use driving to get to where I need to be and so a car is merely a tool.

But, with that said, sometimes driving is tolerable. Sometimes, like tonight, the road isn't too crowded, the weather isn't too fierce, the radio station is coming in clear, and I have a trifecta that transports me into a zen-like place that makes driving almost pleasurable.

But before you get me a subscription to some car mag for Christmas, remember, I said "almost."

Thanksgiving

I have so much to be thankful for this year. I've gone from a family of 3 to a family of 7. Both my children are happy and healthy and have begun their lives.

What more could anyone ask for.

Sleep-overs

This week I'm away from home. As much as I enjoy solitude and my home, I have given it up for the holiday week and am having a weeklong sleepover with my daughter and her family.

I have a room of my own, a bathroom of my own, and all the privacy I want. Which is what makes it so enjoyable. If I feel as though I'm in the way, I just take myself off and let them have their evening alone. I believe this is an important lesson for any houseguest to learn . . . and learn quickly if they want to keep being welcomed as a houseguest.

Unfortunately, Winnie has not taken to a week away from home as well. I think she's a bit over-stimulated with all the people, noise, and activity. What is it they say about old dogs?

Coughing

Why, after all the lectures and publicity regarding the flu this year, are there still some people who don't cover their mouth when the cough? Especially when what they are coughing on is so obviously going to be touched by other people in the immediate future.

I had a student in my class tonight who was just getting over a "virus" which caused her to miss all her classes last week. So this week she sat right in front of me and spent the evening coughing all over her keyboard and monitor. Never once did I see the elbow come up to receive the cough like we're being admonished to do.

I tried not to be overly sensitive - but I'm spending the week with one of the grandbabies! Every time I stopped at her station to help her, I immediately ran back to my desk to sneak a squeeze from the anti-bacterial hidden in my purse. Maybe that was enough to keep me from getting sick, but only time will tell.

Grandchildren

Everyone said that being a grandmother was great, you got to spoil them and give them back when they cried or messed their diaper. I must not have the hang of being a grandmother yet, because today when my granddaughter cried, I didn't mind holding her. And when she messed her diaper, I didn't mind changing it.

She is at the beginning of the age where she notices you - really notices you. Tonight she was crying and fussy and she pulls back from me and looks at my face. I, of course make a funny noise for her and she smiles a crooked smile at me. She goes back to fussing a bit later, but the short time in between made the crying tolerable.

I'm sure there will be times when she will cry and I will give her back. But not today.

Christmas Songs

Driving home from work on Friday I heard the first harbinger of the upcoming season - a holiday song. It's not even Thanksgiving and we're already crooning about there being "no place like home for the holiday" and that someone is "dreaming of a white Christmas."

It's not that I hate Christmas - I just think it starts too early. Thanksgiving is the best holiday ever . . . well, at least for grownups. The second the costumes exit the mall they starting building Santa's village. I have no problem with the holiday season beginning early - in fact I'm quite the fan of the weeks of sappy holiday movies running back to back on at least three different channels -- I just think it shouldn't start until December. After all, we only need time to shop and we can probably accomplish that in about three weeks.

So, it's decided, three weeks is all the holiday season we need to shop and watch sappy movies. Except, when it comes to the holiday songs - I think we'd could get by if they started somewhere around the 23rd.

DVR

Have you heard of these DVR machines? Where has this been all my life? I've only had one for a couple weeks, but it's totally transformed my television viewing!

Where I used to spend a lazy evening channel surfing, now I have a ready-made list of shows that I know I'll enjoy watching but couldn't when they were on live because of bedtime or work or activities or whatever. It's all right there waiting for me to have a little free time.

Now before I get too proud of myself here I've got to admit that I'm still a couch potato - it's just that now I feel less guilty. I'm actually watching quality dramas instead of the lives of the rich and spoiled or a rerun of a rerun of a rerun.

And I save a lot of time skipping over the commercials. That's time I could have never gotten back.

Ice Cream

I suppose if I were to categorize how I feel about ice cream I would have to say it's love . . . or obcession . . . or addiction.

A few Christmas's ago, my daughter bought me the most wonderful - and the most horrible - gift I could ever receive. She bought me an ice cream maker.

I've made ice cream with cherries and slivers of dark chocolate. I've made ice cream with fresh peaches. I've made ice cream with Oreo's broken in it. I've made ice cream with M&M's. But this week I made the most wonderful ice cream to date. I made it with dark chocolate covered pretzels broken in it. The creamy, sweet and salty flavors blend into a Bermuda Triangle of decadence. Salt, sugar and fat in every bite!

Well, now that I've ranted about my latest ice cream concoction, I think I'll go have a little.

Advertising

Driving down the highway this morning I realized that so many of us use our vehicles as personal advertising.

If you read bumper stickers you will know who has elementary-school-aged children, who their favorite sports team is, where they went on their last vacation, and with what political party they identify. Vanity license plates take it to a new level, but sometimes they are just too cryptic -- can I buy a vowel? My least favorite is the back-window memorials. It really brings you down to see the eqivalent of headstone text staring back at you at a red light. But I do like the antenna toys. Some show no imagination whatsoever and stick with the commonplace tennis ball or flag, but my favorite here was Scooby Doo. I like what that tells you about the driver.

One that has become quite popular over the last several years is the fish . . . and of course it's comic parodies. I've never understood the fish. No, I understand the fish, I just don't understand WHY the fish. I'm sure there are other images that could more readily identify the driver as Christian. So why did they pick that? I've come to the conclusion that maybe it's the equivalent of the Masonic secret handshake - it was meant to be only recognizable to other Christians. But someone let the cat out of the bag.

Then there are the car stickers and paint jobs. I find big racing stripes to be hilarious. Come on, really, that little family wagon doesn't look any faster with racing stripes. And just because you have a "Racing Team" logo sticker on the side doesn't mean you're a racer or part of the team. Although I did see one this morning that took me aback. This driver didn't set his advertising sights too high or unbelievable - on the side of a very beat up hatchback was a square sticker that read "Pit Crew." Hmmm, maybe.

Chinese Fortune Sticks

A couple of years ago someone got me a set of Chinese Fortune Sticks. It's a canister of 78 wooden sticks that are supposed to be "the oldest known method of fortune telling in the world." I don't know how accurate they are, but I find them a little fun.

Each wooden stick has a "fortune" written on it. To obtain your fortune for the day, you shake the canister slightly on it's side until one stick protrudes further than the others. I know it's not the most scientific of methods, but when is fortune telling ever scientific.

Today my fortune is "Prosperity will come when you least expect and most desire." What kind of furtune is that? Is there ever a time when you are not desiring prosperity? And there has never been a time when I actually expected prosperity, so how do you pin down the time when I least expected it?

Again, I don't suppose I ever think they are truly going to tell my fortune, but they are a little fun. So . . . maybe just one more stick.

Stupid Multi-Tasking Phones

I have had my phone for a year now and I've finally given up the possibility that I could learn how to put music on it by myself. So I got online and "chatted" with someone from customer service.

But after an hour of "chatting" I was talking in all capital letters! What I came away with is - yes, I can download music onto my phone - but, no, I cannot download the music on my computer onto my phone. It seems the phone only recognizes certain file types and the type that gets stored in your computer when you have downloaded a CD isn't the right type. Of course.

So I said to the rep "You mean I cannot download any of the CDs I have to my phone? What music CAN I download?" This was when she referred me to the music purchasing place on their website, and when I sort of lost it. What kind of gimmick was this?

So I logged out and calmed down and did what any normal person would do and Googled for an answer, which I found in a free software application. It meant an extra step - loading the CDs on to my computer and running them through this new software, and THEN loading it onto my phone. I have one CD on it so far, it's going to be a slow process, but I've got time.

Meetings

I have a meeting tonight. I have at least one a week and sometimes I have a full week of various meetings.

I've thought about why, and I think that our face-to-face social contact changes as we age. When we're young, we go to bars and parties. Then we move into our childrearing years and it switches to child-related activities. Sports, Girl Scouts, Cub Scouts, music lessons, swim lessons, etc. Our children control our social interraction. But then we hit that next age where we "get involved" i.e. work without getting paid. I'm in that stage.

I enjoy it. I really do. But I think I've realized my lack of dating may be correlated to the groups and causes that I choose to connect with. If I'm going to substitute meetings for bars, I should at least find groups that have a few men in their number. Don't you think?

Visiting

Today I drove over an hour to visit my granddaughter. I hate the drive, but I'm thankful that it's not any further . . . yet.

When my dad died, I asked my mom to move in with me. She refused. Instead she moved further away. It was then, counting the food and bathroom breaks, about a five-hour drive to visit her. As a single mother who was taking college classes and working at least 2 jobs at any given time, this was almost impossible. I wished she would come to me . . . but she never did.

Now that I'm a grandmother I never want to ask my kids to bring the grandchildren to me - I go to them. Though I still have schedule conflicts, it's probably easier for me to travel than it is for their family to pack up and come to me. My mom probably never understood . . . but I do.

Winnie

I live with the tiniest dog I've ever known. She is 3.5 pounds and way less than a foot tall. She trembles most of the time and has a near-constant look of intimidation (her being intimidated, not her intimidating.)

Although she is probably the biggest source of worry in my life - after the hawk incident one winter - she is also one of the biggest sources of enjoyment in my life. She is my companion.

I probably spoil her a bit - when the weather first gets cold I bring out a microwavable heating pad to put under her bed to help her adjust. I probably spend more (per pound) on her treats than I do on mine. And if I could take her with me everywhere, I probably would.

Her only "bad" habit is that she's a bit noisy. Yes, I have on of those "yappy" little dogs that my daughter says signifies I'm officially an old lady. So, it's official. I'm old. But I could have told you that without a dog.

Smells of Rain

Do you have smells that immediately take you to some other place far into your past? I do . . . all the time.

Today is a rainy day. It's been rainy all week. And when I leave my car in the morning to walk across a still-wet parking lot I am assaulted with a smell that takes me back to my school days. The smell of earth worms.

My sisters and I had to walk to the bus stop. And on the morning after a rain, all over the blacktop we found thousands of wriggling little worms that had crawled topside to escape their waterlogged underground homes. The smell was good, in a way, because it reminded us to keep alert and tiptoe through the minefield of little pink bodies. Accidently stepping on one would bring about a loud "eeewwwwwww", a few giggles, a "sisterly" remark about the now-stinky shoe, and the scraping of shoes across a bare patch of blacktop in an attempt to remove every stinky remnant.

Now there are other smells that take me back also, but invariably they are not pleasant smells. I don't smell bread baking and think of home. I don't smell strong perfume and think of an older relative. It's the bad smells that imprint on the olfactory memory part of the brain. Wet tube socks still take me back to the high school locker room, duck droppings remind me of the walkway to the back porch, and the mixture of Lysol and cigarette smoke . . . well, we won't even go there.

Team Player

Ok, I'll admit it. I'm not really a team player.

I like to run things. I like to be the boss. I'm not mean or overbearing (okay, maybe a smidge overbearing), but I like to pick the direction and assign tasks. It's not that I think I'm better at it than anyone else, but I really hate the confusion and standing around that goes with no one taking charge to divide up activities and plot an agenda.

What I tend to do if I'm not the boss (like today) is to pick a part and just ignore everyone else's chaos and work at the part I assigned myself. It keeps me sane and keeps me from noticing that everyone is "discussing" the work more than "doing" the work.

Hmmm, I've noticed that this blog is probably just one more way that everyone else can see what an obcessive freak I am. Oh, well, deal with it.

Cookies

A long time ago (maybe in a galazy far, far away) I used to make cookies every November. I would make dozens of cookies of a half dozen or more different varieties. I would put them in freezer bags and they would last through the holiday season. This was when my children were young

Today, for the first time in at least a decade, I made cookies again. This time with my daughter-in-law. I remembered what I liked about baking. And what I didn't like (the number of things in this list has expanded.) I am now a bit older and so standing in the kitchen all day has my feet crying out for a pillow. And the hot flashes make working in a room with an oven for 5 hours nearly unbearable. But I enjoyed it.

I will not keep the cookies. On my counter I have one bag of misshapen and broken cookies, I sent three bags home with my son and daughter-in-law, and will deliver two bags to my daughter and son-in-law over the weekend. Some parts of the holiday baking experience never change - it's still for the kids.

Scrabble

I am addicted to playing Scrabble on my phone. I play against the computer - which one would think would prove challenging, but I win almost all the time. While the computer can come up with words (that I really don't think are words) that have a high point value, it doesn't play strategically. I think this is my strength. The computer seems to look for the best word to play - with regard to points. I do that, but in addition I look for ways to screw up my opponent's next play. Which, in and of itself, tells you something about me.

It's not just Scrabble - I also spend copious amounts of time with crossword puzzles and Sudoku puzzles. I could say it's because I'm getting older and I want to keep my brain from turning to mush, or that it's because I like getting lost in the challenge. But I think it's just I like killing time with something I'm adequate at -- maybe you can't overfeed an ego.

Reading

Last night I stayed up until almost midnight to finish a book. I haven't done that in a while. I had every intention of turning off the light and going to bed at about 10:00 pm, then 10:30, then 11:00 pm, and then I just stopped looking at the clock and decided that I'd drink extra tea tomorrow morning.

There is nothing like the feeling of being so engrossed in a book that you neglect other things because you just have to keep reading. It doesn't have to be a great book, just a great story. One that captures you and forces you along with the characters. This is probably why I'm such a fan of mysteries - they tend to capture you like few other genres do. There is rarely a "Oh, my goodness! What is going to happen next?" moment in a love story. But in a thriller or mystery, once the story gets going, it takes you on a cerebral amusement park ride through the plot.

This is why I like to write. I like to attempt to control readers the way a good story will. I don't know what other writers think, but I want the reader to cry when the characters are experiencing sadness, to laugh when the characters are experiencing something funny or outrageous, and to have their heart beat faster right along with a character during a chase or scarey experience. And because other writers can do this, I like to read.

Sundays

I have a real problem accomplishing anything on a Sunday. I did manage to get out of bed before 7:00 am this morning, but it's been all downhill since then. It began with pajamas - as in the ones I wore all day. I then moved on to delivered Chinese food and a few movies on Lifetime (a Sunday staple.) A phone conversation with each of my kids rounded out the afternoon and now I plan to spend the rest of the evening reading. You know, I might feel guilty except for the adoring looks I get from Winnie as she curls up on me while I accomplish all these lazy activities. Clearly Sunday is her favorite day. Ah, Sunday.

Keys

I stuck my car key in my nose today. Before you think I'm strange or anything. . . wait, those of you who know me well know that I am a bit strange at times. But about today, I'm not strange in that the key in the nose incident was an accident. Let me explain. I have a square leather key fob on my key ring and since I have a tendency to try to make only one trip to and from the car, often use the leather fob to hold my keys in my teeth. (I know, probably not the most sanitary option.) Today, as usual, I was carrying way too much to the car and reached up to put the leather fob in my teeth and, unfortunately, the car key was tangled in the keyring so that it was sticking straight up, and. . . .. Okay, I'll pause here for a bit to give you a chance to stop laughing. . . . Would it help if I told you I really scratched my nose?

Flock of Birds

Last night as I was stopped at a red light on my way to the highway, my attention was was caught by a small flock of birds flying above the intersection. They flew left, then swooped down, then flew right, then climbed, then repeated everything over again. And over again. And over again. I thought to myself "crazy birds! Just pick a tree and land already!"

Almost as soon as I'd said it my head went somewhere else - it looked fun. Like a sky roller coaster. They looked carefree. They'd join up with another small flock and change the routine a bit, then divide and go back to the same swooping and climbing.

When did I become so cynical? When did I start seeing activity that seemed to have no purpose as a waste of time . . . even bird time? Sometimes the end result is not an accomplishment, but the purpose of the activity is the activity itself. I think that now that I have grandchildren, I will have to take a refersher course in how to not be so end-result driven. Grammys need to just be.

A Proust-Like Question

If I were to be asked who I most admired in the world - living or not - I would have to say my daughter. Not to short my son in anyway, but he's taken a path that I would never have considered, and although his path is finally beginning to merge with the mainstream, I need a little time to study who he has become . . . aside from the luckiest person in the world to have made it this far.

My daughter on the other hand, is an amazing human being with just the right blend of stubborness and sensitivity, creativity and pragmatism, humor and dedication, and knowledge and emotion. I think her faults, and yes she has them, are probably more a product of my own frailities and timidity coming through in how I raised her. As much as I tried to push her into the world in a way that I wish someone had done for me, I also feel as though my anxiety and fears held her back just a bit. I often wonder at what she might have accomplished or experienced if I had been just a bit more encouraging in the areas that scared me - like her going too far from home, either to live or for recreation. And my biggest regret and worry is that I have passed on some of my anxiety to her and that occasionally it makes her doubt herself.

Ah, the wisdom we pick up along the way as we progress through life.

Comfort Foods

I think the problem I have with diets is diet foods. There is absolutely nothing in the "good for you" food group that could be remotely classified as Comfort Food. My life requires comforting and I love my comfort food. Yes, I know, that technically you can eat anything on a diet . . . just less of it or with healthier ingredients, but thats not truly a realistic option. When fresh bread comes out of the oven, who takes a tiny slice and slathers it with yogurt spread? When you've made a hearty stew, do you just take a cupful? Oh, and mac and cheese made with skim milk and lite cheese just wouldn't be the same.

So I think the problem with me and diets isn't that I don't know how to eat less, it's that I need too much "comforting." Plain and simple.

Autumn

I love the fall season! I love the crisp days and the cool nights. I love the sound of the wind rustling through the leaves in the backyard. I love being able to watch the squirrel in my back yard scampter through the bare tree branches. I love to watch the lone falling leaf twirling and gliding slowly back and forth outside my office window. I love the ground crunching beneath my feet. I love being able to wear jackets and sweaters again. I love the smell of the smoke from my neighbor's wood-burning stove greeting me every time I open the back door.

Summer is too hot. Winter is too icy. And while I also enjoy Spring - it's too windy and wet. Fall is perfect. Well, except for the mice who try to take up residence every year when their summer digs get too chilly. Ok, so Fall is very nearly perfect.

Reactions

I fell last night. I had taken the trash out and tripped as I came back into the house and fell hard on my knees and hands. One of those trips that happens when you haven't lifted your foot high enough and trip on your slipper . . . or is that just me? In my younger days, I would have immediately jumped up and looked around to see if the neighbors had seen anything. But I'm older now. For starters, I did not get up very quickly (or even slightly quick) and the only thing I checked for is whether or not I peed myself.

Daylight Savings Time

I'm not sure why but when we move the clock it's always seen as an excuse to sleep late. In the fall - we turn the clock back an hour, so we're already getting an extra hour of sleep. But I still feel the need to sleep in.