Long Hollow

On Hearts

 

Man has made many machines, complex and cunning, but which of them indeed rivals the workings of his heart?

~Pablo Casals

 

I had just stepped into the last house on a property tour when it happened: my heart seemed to turn a somersault, I nearly passed out, and the pounding started ...as in, my heart started pounding in my chest like I had somehow trapped a hard rock drummer inside of it. 

It had happened once before, almost 10 years ago (Heart Beats, Heart POUNDS) but follow up tests revealed nothing wrong with my heart, and I hadn't had another episode since that first one, which hit in the middle of the night. It only lasted about 30 minutes and stopped as quickly as it started, so of course, that's what I expected this time. So I gave my feedback on the property to the host agent, got in my car, and drove home, expecting the pounding to stop before I could walk in my front door.

Well, it didn't. So an hour and a half later, I was strapped on a stretcher in the back of an ambulance in my doctor's office's parking lot with my heart still racing and pounding, about to be transported to the hospital. At one point they clocked it at 177 beats/minute. My neck, back, and shoulders ached from the pressure.  

The paramedics had given me an empty syringe which I had been blowing into every few minutes for the past 20 minutes or so - like trying to blow up a stubborn balloon. Just as they were taking one last set of readings before pulling out of the parking lot, I blew into it and immediately felt relief. The paramedic said he saw my heart rate drop down to 90 beats per minute.

After waiting a few minutes to be sure my heart was going to behave itself, I was relieved that I was able to climb out of the ambulance and go home. A trip to the hospital as a patient in an ambulance isn't something I want to add to my 61 x 61 list (61 new experiences by my 61st birthday), if I can help it!

I've since seen the cardiologist, who diagnosed the pounding as SVT (Supraventricular Tachycardia) based on the EKG my doctor took in the middle of the episode. It's an electrical malfunction, where the nerve signal gets stuck in a smaller, easier loop in the cartilage where the four heart chambers connect. For some reason I don't completely understand, the strain of blowing into a tough syringe, or a balloon, or even making yourself cough hard can reset it back onto the correct pathway and normal heartbeats. If that doesn't work, and the episodes are frequent, there is medication and a procedure called an ablation that can be done. 

I'm praying mine is just a random thing, possibly brought on by a few weeks of steady allergy and cold medicine (thank you, Cedar Fever!) combined by I'm-not-sure-how-many cups of coffee a day I had been drinking. Now I'm paying attention to how much coffee I'm drinking each day, and I'm also making sure I work out regularly and get enough sleep, since stress can play a part in it (although I didn't feel unusually stressed out either time it has happened.) 

Getting older is a blessing, but it can also be tricky and full of surprises! 

[A]ccept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields....

~Khalil Gibran, The Prophet, 1923

I counted a number of 'sweets' that day.  I didn't pass out, wreck, and hurt anyone...my doctor's office was very responsive and helpful...the paramedics were so knowledgeable...I didn't have to be transported... my husband and kids were on standby ready to help and meet me wherever I ended up.

But there have been many others this past month, including...

 

 

Lots of playdates with my grandson, supplemented by Facetime in between our visits

He calls me BiBi now!

 

 

I formed a corporation for my business (Shallue Property Group, Inc. - sounds so official!)

 

 

Sharing some beautiful sunrises on my daily walks with Belle (she turned 10 this month!)

 

 

My old Hyundai Elantra is going strong, even though she is also now 10, and has over 220,000 miles on her.

 

 

Steady business, closings, referrals from friends and past clients, and listings with multiple offers

 

 

Taking breaks to tap dance and play my drums (when no one is home!)

 

 

Still finding heart rocks along my path and friends sharing photos of the hearts they find with me

 

 

My kids bathing Belle for me when she rolled in poop on our morning walk 

 

 

The rose bush planted in my mom's honor at her nursing home is still alive, growing and blooming

 

A motivating book and set of question cards from our leadership at the Associate Leadership Council retreat, and a belated Christmas gift from my daughter... one of my favorite movies 

 

 

Wine in the mail (a gift from clients)

 

 

Feeling snow on my face and finding a dusting of it still on everything the next morning (unfortunately there wasn't enough for a snowman)

 

I also lost a classmate this month, and two friends lost their brothers. I'm getting more intentional about connecting with my friends and family, even if it's just a quick phone call or text, so they know they are important to me. Time goes by so fast, and when we are busy, it's easy to put off the things that matter the most. Don't wait!

I hope, no matter what is going on in your life, you keep a lookout for the 'sweets' in every situation. Believe me, you'll find them if you look for them, expecting to find them.

Happy Valentine's Month! I'm grateful for you!

 

 

Heart & me—
Fragile
and strong
Broken
and whole
Loving,
and loving.
~Terri Guillemets

 

 

Just Call Me Ironmom

 

Be proud to wear you.

~Dodinsky

 

Last Saturday my oldest completed an Ironman Triathlon in the Woodlands, Texas.

He was up around 3 am to eat breakfast, left for the competition site at 5 am, and started the swimming portion at 7 am. 

Around 14 hours later, he sprinted across the finish line.

In case you're not familiar with Ironman Triathlons, here's a description, courtesy of Wikipedia...

An Ironman Triathlon is one of a series of long-distance triathlon races organized by the World Triathlon Corporation (WTC), consisting of a 2.4-mile (3.86 km) swim, a 112-mile (180.25 km) bicycle ride and a marathon 26.22-mile (42.20 km) run, raced in that order and without a break.

Ugh! Can you imagine?

And yes, he sprinted across the finish line, racing another participant. 

Crazy! I was exhausted by that point, just moving from spot to spot to catch a glimpse of him!

Sure enough, there were so many people gathered around the finish line that I couldn't see him. But a friend whose wife is an Ironman (yes- it's gender neutral!) sent me this photo from the finish line video...

 Success comes in cans, not cant's.

~Author Unknown

Just watching the Ironman was such a an inspiring experience! 

There were thousands participating, as you can see from all the bikes.

You have to expect things of yourself before you can do them.

~Michael Jordan

While Tommy is young (31) and the image of fitness (you would never know he battled severe asthma when he was young), it was clear from watching one participant after another pass in front of us that an Ironman isn't defined by age, shape, size, or gender.

I would guess the average age is around 50; one of my high school classmates was participating, although I never spotted him, and there were quite a few participants who were obviously older than I am.

Several who were finishing ahead of Tommy would probably be considered overweight, and assumed to be out of shape. We even spotted two blind participants accompanied by guides. They rode tandem bikes. 

While there are some who do this professionally, for most, it's not a race, just a personal goal. What they obviously have in common is something inside that compels them to challenge themselves in this way. 

I admit I don't understand it. I'm not even tempted to run a 5K. I'm happy just running/walking with Belle each morning along our dirt road, and will only do another 30 minutes or so on the treadmill or with my weights to keep my heart, lungs, bones, and muscles in shape for however many more years I'm blessed to be here. 

But that doesn't stop me from being so proud of Tommy, and so amazed and impressed by his accomplishment.

He made it look so easy, with a smile on his face every time we saw him. I think he was happy the day had finally arrived - he had spent months training for it - and also happy that he was getting closer and closer to having it behind him. 

It is not the mountain we conquer but ourselves.

~Edmund Hillary

 

Confidence is preparation. Everything else is beyond your control.

~Richard Kline

 

What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.

~Henry Stanley Haskins

 

If we all did the things we are capable of doing, we would literally astound ourselves.

~Thomas Edison

 

I will live the free-hand life — I will rise up at dawn, and with sure, unfaltering faith, create the day. I will come at noon, and with the assurance of a master, paint the heavens. I will come at night, and with the confidence of one who cannot fail, hang a million stars in the sky.

~Muriel Strode (1875–1964), "A Soul's Faring: XLI," A Soul's Faring, 1921

 

The day started out warm, but ended unseasonably cool. That's probably perfect for a triathlon, where you start out swimming and end up running.

It reminded me of watching him at middle school track meets on spring afternoon/evenings almost two decades ago, first sweating in the bleachers then shivering under blankets by the time the meet was over, long after sunset.

In high school, he switched to running cross country. He rarely placed at the meets, but he earned the spirit award for never giving up. 

He told us he started out the swim portion of the Ironman doing the backstroke for 1 1/2 miles. That was his event the one summer he was on the Lago Vista swim team, right after 4th grade. 

Oh my gosh, that was a long summer, having to have him (and his two younger siblings, of course) up early and at the pool every morning by 7 am. (Maybe it wasn't every morning, but it seemed like it!) And then every Saturday - every Saturday! - we had to be up and out with the whole gang before sunrise for swim meets that lasted most of the day. 

Of course, looking back now I cherish those days, but at the time... whew! 

After the first swim meet, Tommy wanted to quit. We told him he couldn't, that he needed to finish the season, but then he would never have to do it again if he didn't want to. 

So he finished the season - and never did it again.

I can't say I was sorry at the time, but now I'm grateful for those memories. We bonded with a lot of families who are still our friends today. 

Life is weird, isn't it?

Anyway, we didn't always do everything right as parents, but I like to think this is one thing we did do right... impressing on our kids that if they started something, they needed to finish it. 

Even so,  I know we really can't take credit for the drive and determination it took for Tommy to become an Ironman.  To follow through with his training after he signed up and to cross that finish line.

I do know it's pretty awesome when your kids become your inspiration and role models. (P.S. He's the best insurance agent you'll ever find!)

Don't live down to expectations. Go out there and do something remarkable.

~Wendy Wasserstein

 

Blessings in Disguise...

 

 

Mama and I were visiting in her room yesterday when the sound of Christmas carols reached our ears, even over the high volume of her roommate's television. I stepped into the hall. It was coming from the dining room. 

She wanted to go listen, so a couple of aides helped get her situated in the hoyer and into her chair. It's a lot more difficult than it sounds, requiring Mama to roll from side to side as they get the canvas sling beneath her. The large mechanical lift itself has to be retrieved from another hall. 

Consequently, just as we reached the dining room, the performance ended.

I wheeled her back to her room. It was time for me to go, so I gathered up her laundry basket, gave her a kiss, and headed down the hallway. But on a whim I made a detour into the dining room. Sure enough, a few carolers lingered. 

Five minutes later, the carolers crowded into Mama's small room and gave her a short, private performance. She beamed and sang along. 

It was much easier to tell her goodbye after that.

My tree still stands naked ... boxes of decorations are gathering dust in the middle of my livingroom ... I have yet to order my Christmas cards, much less address and mail them ... I've done no shopping, and have barely thought about what we'll have for Christmas dinner. 

But when holiday stress over these yet-to-do's starts building, I'm going to remind myself of those few moments with Mama and of those carolers who agreed on a private encore just to make her happy. Those are the memories that make Christmas special.

 

Gifts of time and love are surely the basic ingredients of a truly merry Christmas. ~Peg Bracken

 

Mama has only been back in her room a couple of days. She made another trip to the emergency room on Tuesday. Not a fall, but just as scary: She choked on a tater tot. Her nurse said they couldn't get her breathing under control, and she even turned blue on them a couple of times. 

However, by the time I caught up to Mama in the ER, she was breathing without wheezing and her color was great, thanks to numerous nebulizer treatments and a steroid IV. In fact, she was her twinkly, flirty self. 

Even though her chest X-ray looked fine, they decided to keep her overnight for observation, in case she aspirated some of the tot. It would irritate and inflame the lungs, causing a type of pneumonia.

Thank goodness the follow-up X-ray the next day looked okay, and she passed a swallow test, but it was already so late in the day by the time they finished, they felt they should watch her another night just to make sure.

Everyone made a big fuss over her when she arrived back at the nursing home the next day. I didn't even nag her about eating lunch in bed. 

It was a huge relief that she suffered no ill-effects from the incident, of course, but the surprise blessing is she gets a brand-new session of physical and occupational therapy, thanks to the stint in the hospital. 

I'll keep trying to stop by there or call her early each day to nag... um, encourage her to get out of bed when physical therapy comes calling. It will be a Christmas miracle if she's strong enough to leave the home and celebrate at our house, but then, I believe in miracles. 

 

 

 

Despite the unexpected visit to the hospital,  there were plenty of sweet!s this past week....

Monday: being able to slow down enough to let a roadrunner cross the highway in front of you safely; your mom moving herself through the halls to see the Christmas tree in the foyer of her nursing home; being able to spend lots of time with her; an orange egg-shaped moon playing peek-a-boo on the hilly horizon with you

Tuesday: calls on your listings; finally having a closing date for one of your new home buyers; caregivers who act fast getting her to the emergency room when your mom chokes on her food

Wednesday: a glorious sunrise; meeting your new neighbor; the doctor determining your mother did NOT aspirate any tater tot; your mom released from the hospital; your daughter making the four dozen cookies you need for a cookie exchange because you're too busy with your mom; cookie exchanges

Thursday: morning sounds... your feet shuffling through dried leaves, the distant crow of a rooster, and the chirps of birds just waking up; a glimpse of the moon peeking through morning clouds

Friday: hitching a ride on a golf cart from the parking lot when you're wearing heels; dancing at Christmas parties with friends; photo booths; a shooting star flashing right in front of you; enjoying a meteor shower with your daughter

 No silly ones - I had a tough enough time trying to figure out where to look!

Saturday: meeting a new client while trying out a new coffee bistro; stopping by their home for a visit with your son, daughter-in-law, and grandpuppy; the sight of Santa riding down South Congress on a horse; catching up with old friends at a Christmas party

Sunday: enjoying Christmas music with your mom; carolers who will give your mom a private performance; the rain waiting until you're in the grocery store to start, and then stopping before you come back out; a son who will cook dinner; a call from a dear friend

 

I hope you have a blessed week full of love and miracles, no matter what holiday you're celebrating this season. Be sure to share your sweet! moments from the past week in the comments! I'm sure you can think of something!

 

When we were children we were grateful to those who filled our stockings at Christmas time. Why are we not grateful to God for filling our stockings with legs?

~G.K. Chesterton

Mama taught me... (Lesson #83 and happy birthday, Mama!)

 

My mother, who was born with a spirit of independence and "where there's a will there's a way" ... who was my quadriplegic brother's primary caregiver even while working full-time ... who others (not just family) always turned to for help ...

... well, now she is dependent on a machine for oxygen, a wheelchair for mobility, and other people to help her with practically everything else. 

She tries hard not to push that little white button that will summon help. Not because of false pride, but because she doesn't want to abuse the assistance.

She knows from personal experience how exhausting it can be, mentally and physically, to help a person with all of their basic needs, and she truly appreciates the aides who help her with hers.  She hears other residents complaining, whining, constantly asking for help, so Mama tries to make sure she only calls when it's a real need.

(Sometimes she misjudges - and breaks her femur.)

When the aides and nurses come to help, she jokes with them and smiles often. So naturally, it seems they stop by to see her more often than the other residents. Wouldn't you?

She's a smart lady, my Mama. 

But she has no ulterior motive in being pleasant. She just truly appreciates how hard they work.

 

They're not gray hairs. They're wisdom highlights.

~Author Unknown

Today is her 83rd birthday. We had a little party on Sunday, but the celebration has continued with cards and cookies arriving in the mail, and visitors bringing more sweets and balloons. I think she stayed in bed all day, which has always been one of her favorite pasttimes. 

On her 77th birthday, I listed the things she had taught me in a blog post, and I've added to it every year. So without further ado, here's the list...

 

Things Mama has taught me...

1. it's never too late to learn something new
2. if you have a choice between laughter and tears, choose laughter.
3. don't let anyone mess with your babies!
4. only give advice when asked for it (I'm still working on that one)
5. pray every day
6. pray some more
7. reading a good book might not solve your problems, but it's a nice escape from them
8. bend but never break
9. some people are just takers
10. be nice whenever possible, but sometimes nice doesn't cut it
11. take care of family
12. we're all individuals - let your kids blossom into themselves, not "mini-me's"
13. be there
14. Johnny Weismuller is the best movie Tarzan
15. don't be in a rush to be older than you are - you're only going to be this age once in your life
16. if you like something, and you'll use it, and you can afford it, then buy it, or you'll regret it later
17. quality over quantity
18. never think "can't"
19. people will stand in line for a dead skunk if it's free
20. roll with the punches
21. have fun
22. laugh often
23. believe in yourself
24. don't let others change who you are
25. be honest
26. don't steal
27. forgive yourself
28. God loves me
29. don't judge
30. just do it!
31. inside matters more than outside
32. don't use God's name in vain
33. you can learn anything if you put your mind to it
34. you're never too old to dance
35. it's okay to ask for help
36. show appreciation and express gratitude
37. use my manners
38. consider the source
39. an office or position of authority should be respected, but the individual in that position has to earn your respect
40. sleep is good
41. take advantage of opportunities
42. keep your eyes open and your wits about you
43. people aren't always nice
44. things can't make you happy
45. use your imagination
46. just get started and the rest will be easy
47. don't be intimidated by anyone - we're all the same, all human, we all have strengths and weaknesses
48. you can love someone even if you don't like them
49. forgive but don't forget
50. learn from others' mistakes
51. there are times for being patient, and time for putting your foot down
52. speak up
53. stand up for what you believe in
54. admit your mistakes and expect others to do the same
55. persistance pays off
56. let your kids be kids
57. love unconditionally
58. take lots of pictures
59. kids grow up fast
60. your kids need a mother, not another friend
61. pets are family
62. help others
63. a sense of humor is essential for sanity and survival
64. if you look close enough, you can find something to love about everyone
65. coffee is good anytime
66. messes can be cleaned up
67. prayer works
68. God is strong all the time - let him carry you
69. if you say you're going to do something, do it
70. be nice to yourself in case no one else is
71. you have to show respect to get respect
72. girls are tough
73. don't put up with temper tantrums
74. listen to your body - doctors don't know everything
75. don't say everything you're thinking
76. asking questions is the best way to learn something
77. your babies are always your babies (and their babies are your babies, too!)
78. God is. 
79. Just listen. 
80. people are more important than things
    
81. there is a time to help others, and a time to let others help you
82. God has his reasons, and He will give you whatever strength you need for the road ahead...and never leave you to walk it alone.
83. smile and show appreciation to those who are willing to help you - they may have it tougher than you in many ways

And just like that...

 

Tuesday afternoon around 3, I got a phone call that derailed the rest of my plans for that day, and shifted all others for the rest of the week...

My mother had fallen, the nurse said. EMS was on its way. What hospital did I want her taken to?

Frustration with her welled up inside of me. Why did she let impatience with the response time of aides cloud her judgement of her own strength and mobility, despite so many "lucky" falls over the past two years? Why did she risk it?

But concern for her, of course, far outweighed my frustration. And I also could put myself in her place, imagining how tough it had to be to have to ask for help for almost everything after a lifetime of independence and always being the one who helped others.

I suspected this was just another 'lucky' fall - her bones seemed to be made of steel! - but nevertheless, I gathered up my phone charger, some snacks, a notebook, and jacket before heading out the door.

She was already loaded in the back of the ambulance when I arrived at the home. I just had time to give her a kiss before they started for the hospital - sans sirens, thank goodness - with me following not too far behind in my own car.

Fast forward to this morning. Mama's luck ran out, dang it. Her femur fractured close to the hip when she hit the ground. She had surgery yesterday to repair it... which means they stuck a long rod down the center which is fixed in place with the medical equivalent of bolts and rubber bands.

The surgery went well, but she had to spend a lot of time in the recovery area. The heavy pain meds they had given her were slow to leave her system. 

It had taken a lot of pain meds. I had never seen my mother in that much pain. Every movement was agony for her, but they had to move her to another bed, insert a catheter, and set the leg in traction that first night, bless her heart.

When I left last night, she was still having a tough time keeping her eyes open, but if asked, she said it didn't hurt.

I'm so grateful for all of the prayers, good thoughts, and well wishes that were sent on her behalf the past couple of days, and for Facebook, email, my laptop, smart phone, and the hospital's free wi-fi.

I may have looked alone, sitting in that waiting room, but in reality I was surrounded by friends and family. Thank you.

 

 

And Mama, I wish you weren't going through this, but thank you for reminding me to have patience ... to be kind to my body ... to weigh risks and ask for help when I need it. Too often I try to cut corners to save time. I forget my body is getting older and that I need to treat it with respect, which often means letting others help me do things I once did alone without even thinking.

A mother is always teaching, isn't she?

Please continue to keep her in your prayers. I'm afraid she's at the start of a long road of healing and rehabilitation and it won't be an easy one.

 

Being a Mom...and sweet!s of the week

For most of this day, I sat at my kitchen table, close to all of my kids plus my mom, constantly giving thanks that I could do so.

I can't think of a better way to spend Mother's Day. I am blessed and I know it.

 

 "I got to grow up with a mother who taught me to believe in me." ~ Antonio Villaraigosa

 

There were so many things I wanted to write posts about this week. But because there were so many things, I didn't have a minute to spare, and those posts didn't get written. 

I've consolidated them a little bit here in my sweet!s. It's a great way to remember the good things that happen...and good practice for squeezing sweet! out of something that seemed totally sour at the time.

 

Tuesday: purple thistle; discovering catered food in the company break room when you're starving; touring the new high school and seeing old friends at the same time; strawberries and blackberries straight out of a friend's garden; a bag of onions to take home

 

 

Wednesday: a good morning text from a friend; cactus blossoms; a room filled with love and laughter, celebrating the 20th anniversary of your priest's ordination with friends

 

 

 

Thursday: being part of a company that completely shuts down one day a year to give back to its community by helping a nonprofit business in the area; helping to build a memorial garden in a local no-kill animal shelter (Texas Humane Heroes - so many precious animals waiting to adopted!)

Friday: getting to the other side of the mock listing presentation you've been dreading; puppy kisses; the soreness that comes from physical labor

 

 

Saturday: sleeping in, then taking a leisurely walk with your puppies; spotting a fox; clearing away the piles of paperwork that were growing in your office; joining your mom in a Mother's Day reception

 

 

Sunday: Mass with your kids and husband; a huge bacon and egg brunch, courtesy of your son; kids who are always willing to help out; spending Mother's Day with your mom and all of your kids; seeing your brother and his wife; a bouquet of yellow and purple flowers from your son and daughter-in-law

 

 

To all mothers, in all shapes and forms, I hope you had a wonderful Mother's Day weekend.

To those who couldn't be with their mothers this weekend, or with their sons or daughters, remember their love is always with you, inside and out.

 

“Being a mom has made me so tired. And so happy.” — Tina Fey 

Sleep, surprises...and other sweet!s

 

Friday evening, after dinner at a friend's home, I collapsed into my bed and slept almost twelve hours.

That...felt...so...good.

For months I had been planning to get up early Saturday morning and drive the four hours to my hometown for a gathering of high school friends. At some point on Friday I realized I would have to miss it. Too much to do and too many nights of five hours or less sleep.

I hit my brick wall.

As much as I hated to miss a get-together (with live music, no less!) I'm grateful for the busy-ness of my business right now, and grateful I listened to my voice of reason. I made progress on several projects that required big chunks of time...for example, editing the wedding photos I took on Good Friday. (I told you I was behind on things!)

I'm still not finished with the photos, but I made a lot of progress. It's always such a relief to scratch dusty things like that off of a to-do list, so I'll be working on them again tonight after I publish this post. The bride should be rewarded for her patience.

Here are a few other sweet!s from my past week. I'm trying to get back on schedule!

I hope you're still keeping track of yours. Please share them in the comments.

 

Thursday: affirmations and inspiration that push you beyond your self-doubts

Friday: watching your puppies run with joy; playing catch-up with friends over fajitas and wine

Saturday: sleeping twelve hours; news that a friend has become a grandmother!; news that a friend will become a mother-in-law!; catching up on your work-outs

Sunday: wildflowers; late Mass with your son and daughter; watching Game of Thrones with your son; a cool night breeze blowing in from an open window

Monday: a morning spent making headway on your to-do list, and an evening helping a desperate client in her quest to find a home

An extra sweet! tonight...when taking a look at the photos of wildflowers I snapped earlier in the week, I discovered this one.

 

 

 

What a sweet surprise! I had no idea that little bee-like bug was coming in for a landing when I snapped the photo.

I hope the rest of your week is full of sweet surprises!

 

Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished.

~Lao Tzu

Not the Sweetest Valentine's Day...

 

I received my Valentine's Day surprise early Friday morning - a stomach bug. It knocked me out all day and left me feeling like a ragdoll all weekend. 

Thank goodness my son Daniel was able to deliver the fancy box of Millionaire candy I bought for Mama, so she still had something special, and I'm so grateful to TG for staying home to take care of me and the puppies.

But I had to cancel appointments, scrap my plans of dropping Valentine surprises by my clients' houses, and didn't even have the energy to work on my computer or read.

If you've already had this cursed virus, I give you my full sympathy. If you haven't, I pray it misses you!

And I hope your Valentine's Day was a lot sweeter than mine! Share them with me in the comments.

I still collected a few sweet!s this week, though... 

 

 

Sunday: helping a dear friend celebrate her birthday; sitting with friends on a deck, watching deer watch us

 

 

Monday: your clients pleased with the photos you took of the Women's Gala; picking up an extra phone duty; getting to see your mom for the first time in three days; learning that one of the ladies your mom eats with every day is a friend's mother-in-law

Tuesday: property tours; the photo you took on a friend's beautiful business card; enough hot coals still alive in your woodburning stove when you get home to get a fire going easily

 

 

Wednesday: yellow flowers that continue to bloom along your path despite the freezing temperatures; support in your new career; picking up another extra phone duty; hand and arm massages; listening to your mom's memories

Thursday: nurses who keep you posted on your mom's health issues; subbing in a high school classroom and listening to their mock job interviews (impressive!); getting a potential lease client while on phone duty

Friday: your daughter taking care of you and the things that need to be done around the house when you get knocked out of commission by a stomach bug; get-well wishes from friends on Facebook; your son delivering your Valentine's Day box of candy to your mom for you; finally being able to take some medicine for a day-long headache without fear of it coming back up again; your mom's fever staying low; care givers who keep a close watch on your mom, especially when you can't

 

 

Saturday: a full night's rest and waking to sunlight splashing into your bedroom; breakfast, after a 36 hour involuntary fast; enough energy for a morning walk with your puppies; a Mexican Jay posing for you; your mom testing negative for pneumonia; relaxing on your porch, watching the cardinals visit your birdfeeder, even though they wait until it's too dark for you to get a good photo of them

 

 

Sunday: Mass with your kids; Shirley Temple movies; visiting your mom after not seeing her for three days - again!; listening to your body and going to bed at 8pm

Monday: realizing you slept for 10 hours!

 

The best things in life are nearest: 
Breath in your nostrils, light in your eyes, flowers at your feet, duties at your hand, the path of right just before you. 
Then do not grasp at the stars, but do life's plain, common work as it comes, certain that daily duties and daily bread are the sweetest things in life. 

~Robert Louis Stevenson

 

P.S. Happy Presidents' Day, by the way! Whether you have the day off, or you have to work (like me) I hope you enjoy it!

 

Random 5 Friday

 

 

1. "Knock and the door will open."

One of my dearest friends dropped by to see me and my mom on Monday before we headed back to Austin. She gave me this cross made from driftwood gathered on a Galveston beach (where we spent many summers together!) 

She's such a gifted artist in all mediums. She's written a book on assemblage art and will soon be teaching a painting workshop. Find out more at Annie Lockhart.

 

2. For two days I've set my alarm for 5 am. I'm so behind on everything, and since morning is my most productive time (and it's usually taken up with puppy chores) I've meant to get up extra early and tackle some projects before the sun rises and I can see Belle staring at me through the French doors.

Instead, I've been resetting the alarm for 7. It's just hard to get up before the sun when everyone else in your house is snoozing, isn't it?

 

3. The kids and I have revisited the "Shrek" movies the past two nights. (That might be why I'm having trouble getting up.) We're skipping "Shrek 3", though. Once was enough for it.

 

4. Be careful when choosing your words.

I made the mistake of telling the nursing home my mom was allergic to eggs, when actually they just irritate her stomach.

Now they're balking at giving her the flu shot, even though I've assured them she gets a shot every single year and has never had a reaction. (I took her and Daddy last year, so I know from personal experience.)

I've also assured them she will probably die if she contracts the flu...given her age and severe asthma...which is why her doctors have always encouraged her to get one. And why I'll take her myself if they still refuse.

 

5. How would you like to win $50,000?

Keller Williams created this cool mobile app that lets you search for homes in your area (it's GPS based) or by entering a zip code to search in other areas. I love playing with it.

As if that wasn't enough, now if you download the app, you're not only entered for a chance to win $50,000, but you give me a chance to win $20,000! 

Go HERE to get my code and download the app. Thanks in advance!

 

 

 

Another year is right around the corner.

I'm hoping your journey through 2014 is one filled with laughter and light, and if there are any bumps in the road, you have plenty of help to get you through.

 

Linking with Nancy...

Random 5 Friday

 

1. Max can still run. Considering all the times over the past couple of years I thought the "early lameness" diagnosis was coming true, watching him disappear into the woods with Belle after a deer makes my heart soar!

 

2. After a year of posting an old piano on Craig's List, I finally sold it back in August. The woman asked if she could pick it up in a week or so because they were going on vacation.

I haven't heard a word since and she doesn't respond to my emails. So...can I sell it again? Anyone know the protocol on things like this?

 

3. Two years ago I started using minoxidil for my thinning hair. I blogged about it at the beginning, and then a year later with the results. I also published that post on Vibrant Nation, where it triggered conversations that are still going on today.

It makes me feel good knowing my post triggered that dialog, and possibly provided a solution, for other women who struggle with the same problem. 

 

4. Yesterday it was in the 80's here. This morning we woke to drizzly 40's that steadily dropped all day.

Brrrr! How do you people up north live with this for months and months?

 

5. I spent a lot of time looking up this week...

 

After every storm the sun will smile...

"After every storm the sun will smile; for every problem there is a solution, and the soul's indefeasible duty is to be of good cheer."

~ William R. Alger

We finally had enough rain this week to leave small pools in limestone bed of Long Hollow creek and set the frogs singing in celebration of several feet of water in the pond again.

And if that's not sweet enough, yesterday morning dawned clear and bright and cooler than it's been in six months, as if the rain just washed summer away. A gorgeous welcome for autumn.

On this morning's walk, I noticed these little moths (or something) dancing in the sunlight...

Sweet!

Here are a few other sweet!s from the past week...

 

Monday: a morning at home to work on your to-do list; grocery shopping with your daughter; Bible study groups; finding more cards full of sweetness, sympathy, and friendship in your mailbox

Tuesday: waking without a stuffy nose for the first time in several weeks; the sun spilling over the hills into your Hollow; having an excuse to tour beautiful houses; real estate leads

Wednesday: walking under the stars; finding back roads to skirt clogged highways; a full moon lighting your way down a dirt road; finally having time to open your mail and finding a gift card from your writing group to help you buy a new printer; a hug from your brother-in-law, visiting from Arizona

Thursday: experiencing a real estate convention with your sister-in-law and a dear friend; friends who keep bandaids in their purse when you have blisters on your feet; the smell of rain

Friday: enough rain falling for the second day to make a difference in a drought; having your daughter for company when you're stuck in traffic; introducing your sister-in-law to Whataburger; the rain spigot shutting off almost every time you need to get in or out of your car, but then starting up again; giving thanks for your parents on their 64th wedding anniversary; the two-hour version of The.Most.Beautiful.Wedding.Ever

Saturday: a heron waiting for you to wake up and take its picture; a morning walk with your puppies for the first time in days; blue skies, cooler temperatures, and the golden glow of autumn in the sunshine; lunch overlooking a lake with your husband and in-laws and wandering through gift stores with your camera; a second evening spent around the table with loved ones playing 3-13

Sunday: sleeping in and still having time for a morning walk before Mass; a call from a dear friend; finishing your 'sweet' post on Sunday, in time to go sit on the front porch and just soak in the day

Whether your week is filled with sunshine or storms, I hope you experience enough sweet!s to fill your soul with good cheer! Share them here!

The windows of my soul I throw wide open to the sun.

 ~John Greenleaf Whittier

 

 

 

Another Healthy Choice

When I was growing up, one of my favorite meals was the Swanson sliced roast beef frozen dinner. We called them TV dinners back then. I believe it came with corn, mashed potatoes, and some kind of yummy crumbly berry dessert, all tucked into separate compartments of the aluminum foil tray. 

My mother kept those and a supply of Banquet Chicken Pot Pies in the freezer for us to heat up for lunch during the summer while she was at work. 

But years later, I stocked up on Lean Cuisine frozen dinners to eat at work at the chemical plant. I ate so many that eventually just the smell of them cooking made me sick. Despite my previous love affair with them, I've avoided frozen dinners ever since.

So I admit it was with a little trepidation that I agreed to try Healthy Choice's Cafe Steamers.

(Yes, this is another review, and here's the disclosure: I was lucky enough to be chosen as a participant in the Vibrant Influencer Network Healthy Choice campaign, which means I was sent coupons for free products and will be paid to express my honest opinions about them. 

Rest assured I am giving you my own opinion.

I signed up for this review because, especially as I've gotten older, I focus on nutrition when making food choices and am always on the lookout for new, healthy products.

Now, on to my experience with the Cafe Steamers...)

 

I chose the Kung Pao Chicken and Roasted Chicken Marsala because they each had less than 300 calories, whole grain, and lots of veggies.

The "wine sauce" on the Chicken Marsala sounded pretty tempting, too!

 

 

Scoping out the nutrition panel, I was a little concerned about the amount of sodium - both of them over 500 mg. But at least the top ingredients were real food. They use chicken tenderloin and real veggies.

 

 

TG agreed to be my assistant and share them with me, so I could try both in one sitting.

They were very easy to prepare - pop in the microwave for about 4 minutes, carefully peel back the film on top, pull the steamer basket insert up out of the bigger bowl, dump the contents into the bowl (which contains the sauce), stir, and enjoy! 

 

 

She and I both decided the Kung Pao Chicken was our favorite...sweet and spicy and the chicken was very tender.

I'm addicted to a certain restaurant's Orange Chicken and I have to say, this would satisfy my craving in a pinch. 

 

The Chicken Marsala also featured tender chunks of chicken tenderloin and real veggies, as well as whole wheat ziti pasta. It was good, but I think the powerful flavors of the Kung Pao Chicken put it at an unfair advantage with my taste buds; it seemed a little bland. 

The serving sizes of these were just right. While I wouldn't eat them every day (never again!) I'm going to stock a few to be on hand for a quick lunch. 

Here are some of the vegetarian varieties they offer:

         Portabella Marsala Pasta: Freshly made whole wheat pasta and rich crimini mushrooms, tossed with a savory Marsala wine sauce and topped with rich fontina cheese. 

         Pumpkin Squash Ravioli: Tender pumpkin-stuffed ravioli with crisp green beans, sweet butternut squash, and juicy Granny Smith apples, topped with a tasty butter-sage sauce.

         Tortellini Primavera Pasta: Four-cheese-stuffed tortellini featuring whole-grain pasta, julienne carrots, and red pepper strips and now includes more tortellini and sauce. 

         Asian Potstickers: Vegetarian dish served on a bed of rice and covered with a sweet Asian-style sauce. We’ve also added more potstickers and sauce, while making it less spicy, per consumer feedback. 

         Portabella Spinach Parmesan: Freshly-made whole wheat pasta, and now featuring even more baby portabella mushrooms, red peppers, tomatoes and spinach.

Yum, right?

If you try (or have already tried) any of these, let me know what you think!

 

 

A Healthy Choice on a Hot Day

Stumbling into the house, weighed down by five overloaded grocery bags to avoid a second trip uphill to my car, and sweating from the heat of this Texas summer, all I could think about was breaking into one of the Healthy Choice Greek Frozen Yogurts buried in one of the bags. 

You've probably guessed this is going to be a review, so here's the disclosure: I was lucky enough to be chosen as a participant in the Vibrant Influencer Network Healthy Choice campaign, which means I was sent coupons for free products and will be paid to express my honest opinions about them. 

Rest assured I am giving you my own opinion.

I signed up for this review because, especially as I've gotten older, I focus on nutrition when making food choices and am always on the lookout for new, healthy products, especially snacks.

So as soon as the groceries were put away, I pulled out one of the blueberry-flavored frozen yogurts. They come packaged in three 100-calorie servings.

Now, I'm a sucker for fortune-cookie fortunes and quippy quotes, so the top of the container caught my eye and I had to take a picture before diving in.

 

 

Cute, huh? Later, I snapped one of the strawberry-flavored container tops.

But the review was for the yogurt and I wanted to eat it while it was still frozen, so I peeled back the cute top and dove in.

 

It really was very smooth and creamy...and very refreshing after being out in the heat. There weren't any whole blueberries in it, just chips blended in, but the flavor was rich and sweet.

Actually, almost too sweet for me, since I have cut way back on my sugar intake. So the serving size was perfect.

The only frozen yogurt I've eaten before this was at one of the soft-serve yogurt shops, where it tastes more like ice cream than yogurt. This definitely retains the tart yogurt flavor, so if you're expecting an ice-cream-taste experience, you may be disappointed.

But, if like me you enjoy traditional yogurt, I think you would enjoy it as an occasional treat...especially after a trip to the grocery store on a hot August afternoon.

(Next time, I'm going to try the Dark Fudge Swirl, winner of the "Best Night Bite" in Shape Magazine's 2013 Snack Award.) 

If you decide to give it a try, click HERE to save a dollar off your purchase. 

 

So if you get a summer cold...

I caught a cold last week.

It's a matter of pride to me that I never, ever, ever get sick...so, of course, I had to eat my words when I felt that ache in my bones and started sneezing, coughing, and blowing my nose.

(That's what happens when you you say "never", right?)

I know why it hit me. Just too much going on between class, work, trips to Houston, kids moving home, too little sleep, and my work-out routine forgotten in the bottom of the closet with my tennis shoes and jumprope.

But instead of sitting back and taking it easy, I got on the treadmill. I didn't do a hard workout, just enough to move some air into my lungs and sweat a little. It's a trick I learned the last time I got sick. 

(Ahem. So much for "never".)

I also started taking Mucinex DM. I'm not being paid to tell you that. I'm doing it as a friend. You're welcome.

By the next day I felt so much better.

The pace has slowed a bit, making it easier to get at least 6 hours of sleep and fit at least a quick workout in my day, thank goodness. I hope you're staying well, but if you feel that achiness and start sneezing...get moving!

Health is not valued until sickness comes.

~Thomas Fuller

 

(By the way, I passed my last real estate class today and submitted the application for a license. Now I just need to find a sponsoring broker, get fingerprinted, take at least one intense two-day review class and then...the Big Test. Still a ways to go...but I'm closer! If you're planning on buying a house in Texas, hold off just a few more weeks!)

 

From Wednesday

The golden moments in the stream of life rush past us, and we see nothing but sand; the angels come to visit us, and we only know them when they are gone.

~George Eliot

 

These days, more than ever, I'm trying stay focused on the minute I'm standing in...to not let my mind replay 'what-if's' from the past, ad nauseam, or drift too far into future what-if's that just cause worry and needless stress... 

...because balance has been thrown all out of whack for the time being. Between class and studying and my job and quick trips to see my parents and kids moving back home, I've had no time for regular morning walks or work-outs or works-in-progress.

My body is feeling it. I have a summer cold, the first time I've been sick in ages. 

Thank goodness the pace has slowed. I relished my walk this morning and quit procrastinating on paying bills tonight in time to rock in my chair on the deck with a dog snoozing beside me, watching the sun slip below the horizon, behind silhouetted trees and telephone poles.

I watched as it pull its swirling scarves of pink and salmon behind it until there was nothing left but a deep azure sky...and the buzzing of mosquitoes in my ear.

It's hard to believe tomorrow is the first day of August. The month has a big question mark stamped on it.

It will be a month of transition...finishing up classes and getting my real estate license, starting on a real career for perhaps the first time in my life, while trying to emotionally support my parents and kids as they face big life transitions at the same time.

It won't be easy, but it will be rewarding, and what more could we ask from life?

 

Five Things on Friday

 

I hate to wish time away, but this has been a long, tiring week, and I'm glad to be on the other side of it, with two more real estate classes behind me.

Four down, two to go. Then the BIG TEST.

 

 

I missed four morning walks in a row!

I felt like hugging this dirt road by Wednesday.

This cedar tree and oak tree are entwined from the base on up, reminding me of a couple in love walking through the woods.

I think these are the last of the mountain pinks growing along the road.

I'll miss them!

I don't know what these little wild wildflowers are...or were. I'm not sure what stage I'm seeing....

...but don't they remind you of Phyllis Diller?

(Thanks to all of you who are stopping by even though I haven't had time to make my rounds lately. I promise I'll reciprocate soon!  I hope you have a great weekend!)

Linking with Nancy's Random 5 Friday

Breathing...and other sweet things in life

We've been on a rollercoaster ride with my parents the past two days...my sister, Brenda, on the front lines with them, dealing with EMS and emergency rooms...me on the receiving end of texts and phone updates from her.  

It started yesterday, when Daddy apparently had a mini-stroke. The sweet! of it is he made it home from the grocery store before it really hit, and by the time EMS arrived, he had recovered.

But during the excitement, my mom fell. She seemed okay at the time, and EMS helped her back into her wheelchair, but this morning when Brenda checked on her and Daddy after church, Mama couldn't put her weight on her left hip. EMS made another visit to the house, but this time whisked Mama off to the hospital, Brenda and Daddy in a car close behind them.

Thank God (literally!) Mama's hip isn't fractured. (I tell you what, that woman has bones of steel!)

But while there, a nurse noticed Daddy looking a little saggy and droopy on one side of his face and body. Sure enough, he was having another mini-stroke. They admitted him, too, and for a time the texts and calls I received today from my sister made me think I needed to head straight to Houston right after work if I wanted to tell my Daddy goodbye one last time.

But...another sweet!...his CAT scan showed no blood on the brain. Daddy perked up, talked to my sister, and asked for a glass of milk. The doctor was concerned about his blood sugar and blood pressure, but that's a broken record I've been listening to, and singing along with, the past ten months.

Seeing as how my Daddy doesn't think he needs his diabetes or heart medicine, the record is bound to start skipping more and more. We're thinking it's time to get firm with those two about moving out of their home of 50+ years into some kind of assisted living.

Please tell me...how do you practice tough love on your parents? 

I would appreciate your prayers, but the good thing is, we don't have to do anything about it tonight, so I'm just giving thanks that Mama doesn't have a fractured hip and I don't have to rush to Houston. 

Those are the sweet!est things I can imagine right now. But here are a few others from the past week...

 

 

Sunday: time between church and work to take your puppies for a swim in the backyard "pool"; a chance to meet with your writing group again after several missed meetings

Monday: working in your church again; watching rain pouring down outside of your window; starting your second real estate class, moving closer to your goal; a successful Silpada party, where you earn enough to pay 1/4 of your real estate class expense, plus get a beautiful silver bracelet for free; photos of your bff's brand-new grandson

Tuesday: people who volunteer for your church; church bells that play "How Great Thou Art" and other hymns; your son and daughter-in-law buying their first home

 

Wednesday: realizing the coral snake lying a few feet away is dead; visiting with retirees who hang around after communion services, drinking coffee; a gift of tomatoes, squash, and eggplant, fresh from a garden; your story about your dad published on savvydad.com

Thursday: a 95 on your second real estate final; a classmate with jumper cables when you discover your car battery is dead after class; a gorgeous sunset keeping you company on the way home

Friday: plants that smell like spearment; cardinals playing tag all around you; arriving at work early enough to receive communion; a long therapeutic girl-talk visit with a friend

Saturday: great customers all day long; an overnight visit with your son, daughter-in-law, and grandpuppy

Sunday: after a rollercoaster day of texts from your sister about your parents, by the end of it your mom does NOT have a fractured hip, your dad's CAT scan looks good, and you don't have to be torn about whether to take off work to see them; your husband making brownies while you're at work

 

This morning at church we had a visiting priest, originally from Nigeria - Father Justin Udomah. He told a great story about a pickpocket stealing his wallet, leaving him stranded in a small town...how he asked for help at a local church but was turned down.

He said he was tempted to get angry, but instead, decided then and there that he would never turn away anyone in need. He used the experience to illustrate the story of the Good Samaritan and how we should help each other, but he also stressed the importance of turning the negative in our lives into positive results. 

I really liked that.

If you find you have a hard time finding the sweet! moments in your day, or turning the negative into positive, I recommend a book that will help: Basket of Blessings: 31 Days to a More Grateful Heart , by Karen O'Connor. (Full disclosure: this is an Amazon Affiliate link, but I wouldn't offer it if I didn't really recommend it!)

I received it in a box of books Tom brought me from my mother-in-law. It was the first one I read, and now I'm re-reading it, even though I've already developed the habit of looking for those sweet! moments in my day. I'm always looking for inspiration. This book helps you learn to recognize the blessings all around you and make gratitude part of your every day life.

I hope your week overflows wth sweet! moments...a basket overflowing with blessings.

Gratitude is an art of painting an adversity into a lovely picture. 

~Kak Sri

 

 

 

Five Things on Friday

1.

I've captured Belle leaping three days in a row now. All I had to do was write about how I kept getting distracted at the last minute, and BOOM! now I stay focused.

It took about fifty years, but I've finally figured out how to manipulate myself. How do you trick, er, train yourself?

 

(I just said I've captured the photos...not that they were any good!)

 

2.

A scorpion stung Tom last night. In all the years we've lived here, through all of the rock moving and house construction, none of us has ever been stung until now, so all things considered, we've been pretty lucky...

...But I don't think Tom is feeling very lucky right now. 

 

3.

My son and his bride just bought their first house. It reminds me a lot of the first house Tom and I lived in as newlyweds...small, but just right. I'm so excited for them! And now my grandpuppy Josie will have her own yard!

 

4.

Last month I wrote a post about my dad for Generation Fabulous's Father's Day Bloghop. The writers behind SavvyDad.com spotted it on Huffington Post and approached me about using it on their website. Of course I said yes! The more I can brag about my awesome Daddy, the better, is my opinion!

If you hop over to SavvyDad to read it, be sure to stick around and read more stories about dads...or even offer your own. Their aim is to help promote good fatherhood practices.

 

5.

Have you heard of Malala Yousafzai? She's the 16-year-old who the Taliban shot in the head for speaking up about the educational rights of women. Of the moment she was shot, she says..."Weakness, fear, and hopelessness died; strength, power, and courage was born." She is an amazing young woman, a bright light shining in the darkness. I'd say she's destined for great things...but she's already achieved it.

I just listened to her speech to the UN Youth Assembly and urge you to listen to it HERE as well, if you haven't already. It's totally worth the sixteen minutes. 

 

Linking with Nancy's Random 5 Friday

 

 

"I See You" does it again. Sweet!

 

I'm so grateful my friend Lisa asked me to take some photos of her colts last year, and that I went kind of crazy, snapping away at all of the horses in the pasture, because on Tuesday I was Huffington Post's Featured Fifty Fine Artist, all because of that beautiful horse up there.

That pretty much topped my sweet! list this week, but I did find quite a few more...

 

Sunday: new flowers blooming in the Hollow; a marriage proposal at a winery; a family joining hands in prayer before eating

Monday: having an elliptical when your beloved treadmill dies (and a husband who can find exercise equipment cheap on Craig's List); a note from a customer letting you know how pleased she is with the photographs she bought from you; arriving at your first real estate class across town on time

Tuesday: your old puppy snuggling with you after your morning walk; hearing the original version of "Last Kiss"; being selected as one of Huffington Post's Featured Fifty Fine Artists

Wednesday: hopeful buds on your crape myrtle; a classmate bringing "Pakoda", an Indian treat, for everyone to try (fried cabbage - yummy!); making 100 on your final exam; one course down, five to go for your license; fireworks on the horizon as you drive home

Thursday: celebrating your country's birthday; carriage rides around a vineyard at sunset; fireworks from a hilltop

Friday: a day at home to play catch-up; making it through the week with a dying car battery without getting stranded; your husband replacing the dying battery with a young, vigorous one

Saturday: capturing a photo of a camera-shy cardinal, despite his best effort; a long-overdue trip to the grocery store

 

I hope you captured plenty of sweet!s this past week, and spot even more in the week ahead! 

If you count all your assets, you always show a profit. 

~Robert Quillen

The Simple Things are the Sweetest

Dawn is waking to rain and thunder this morning. She must have pulled the covers back over her head because the Hollow is still dark outside my window, except for occasional flashes of lightning.

On a normal morning, the puppies and I would already be out on the dirt road, saying hello to the new day. Instead, they're snoozing in the laundry room, warm and dry and happy, and I'm playing catch-up on posting my sweet!s.

Rain is sweet during a drought, but especially when you were able to spend hours the day before feeling the sunshine on your skin.

Weeks...well, maybe months ago, Tom trimmed branches from the trees lining the creek. I told him I'd drag them to a burn pile, and I finally kept my word yesterday morning after my walk. I had a few free hours and was already coated in mosquito spray.

Even though the morning was warming up fast, the shade softened the heat. Wildflowers dotted the woods and a field of Mexican hats grew beside the burn pile. Birds chatted in the trees and the running creek sang to me as I cleared the creek and paths of fallen branches.

Sweat soaked my head and torso, tickling my nose, and bits of leaves and bark freckled my arms, but it felt good using my muscles to gather the branches, drag them uphill, and throw them on the growing pile. I've always loved repetitive work like that, when my thoughts are free to fly where they will.

The higher the pile grew, the younger I felt. I gave thanks for the morning, the sunshine, the flowers, the creek, the sweat...but mostly for the ability to do the job. When you're 54, you don't take that for granted.

 

And now for more sweet! moments from the past week...

 

Monday: friends sending you links to potential jobs; the anticipation of a weekend at the beach with girlfriends, even if it's still months away; a photoshoot with a fun family; wading in a lake on a hot day; fawns

Tuesday: relishing a soft summer morning with your puppies before a busy day at work; daily talks with your mom 

Wednesday: phone conversations with your mother-in-law; your mother-in-law winning $1000 on a $1 scratch-off lottery ticket; word that one of your photos will be featured in HuffPost 50 

Thursday: hearing a friend's voice for the first time in a year; dinner, lots of popcorn, and a Matthew McConaughy movie with girlfriends 

Friday: finally using a certificate for a massage your son gave you for Christmas; catching up with a dear friend; getting your client's photos to her on time and hearing that she liked them; old red trucks; your dad NOT having to go to the hospital 

Saturday: a road trip with your kids to spend Father's Day with your dad; your mom appearing stronger than the last time you saw her; hearing that your three Beach Yoga photos will soon grace the wall of a summer rental home belonging to a friend in Greece

Sunday: having the coffee ready and the newspaper on the table for your dad when he wakes up; hamburgers and cheesecake in honor of the father of your children; hearing that a friend was baptized this morning; green metallic beetles with orange legs

Monday: bouquets of mountain pinks dotting a hillside; a green heron posing for photos; sweating from physical labor; your little creek and nearby paths finally cleared of fallen trimmed branches; a few hours with, and a hug from, your baby girl; email and Facebook that can connect you to friends on the other side of the world

Tuesday: rain during a drought; unexpected time to post your Sweet!s of the Week; the moment storm clouds break to reveal blue sky 

I didn't quite finish this before the storm drifted past, with little patches of blue sky peeking down, reminding me to get the dogs out of the laundry room. I cut the walk short, though, and we stuck to the muddy road because I forgot to douse myself with mosquito spray. 

Mosquito spray is definitely a sweet! around here this summer. It's the simple things, right?

I hope you're remembering to notice the sweet, simple blessings in your life. Share them with me here and make them doubly sweet!

"I'm just a simple guy, I live from day to day. 
A ray of sunshine melts my frown and blows my blues away." 

~Jimmy Page, Robert Plant, and John Bonham, "Out On The Tiles" (Led Zeppelin)

 

Five Things...

 

1.

Monday evening I went wading in Lake Travis. I had my camera and was shooting a fun multi-generational family while they ran and played and laughed. I took way too many photos and couldn't help editing as many as possible to share with them, to help them remember the fun they had that day with their parents/grandparents and sister/aunt visiting from Guatamala. You can see a lot of the photos in "Generations".

2.

I saw the movie "Mud" last night with some friends. I hadn't heard much about it, but it stars Matthew McConaughey, and one of my friends is madly in love with him. So I see a lot of Matthew movies.

In my opinion, this is one of his best. I enjoyed the movie so much that I wish it was based on a book so I could read it. 

3.

For Christmas my oldest gave me and Tom gift certificates for massages. 

But between working weekends at the winery and weekdays subbing in the schools as much as possible, I didn't have time for a massage.

Until today. I figured I should take advantage of this unemployed time off, even though I'd rather be working.

Oh, it felt so good! Sitting at this computer typing and editing photos takes its toll on my neck and back, and you can only imagine what staying on your feet for six or seven hours in a restaurant will do to you.

Thank you, Tommy!

If you live anywhere near Austin, or plan to visit, I recommend making an appointment with Ruth Ann Blackwell! 

4.

INSECT WARNING!

Tom called me down to the laundry room earlier this week. When he does that, I know to bring my camera. Look who decided to visit us.

Since tarantulas aren't any help when it comes to laundry - in fact, they can be a downright hindrance - Tom escorted it back outside.

 

By the way, the herding above didn't work. It went skittering into the shelves. That's when I left and I'm not sure how Tom ended up catching it.

(At least I think he caught it....)

The other night this toad decided to visit us upstairs. Isn't he handsome? I mean, for a toad?

 

We can't figure out how these critters are getting inside, but I'd rather have a tarantula and a toad than those little mice who took such a liking to us. Ugh.

 

5.

Today is Flag Day, commemorating the day the American flag was adopted in 1777. 

I swear I recently took a photo of the little faded flag flying on my parents' porch to post, but it's lost in a maze of files in my computer.

It's just one of those small ones on a wooden stick . They have it tucked into the metal porch supports and keep it up all year. I like that.

So instead of the flag, and since by the time I publish this it won't be Flag Day anymore, here's an old red Ford truck I spotted today. Not quite Old Glory, but an American icon at least.

Hope you have a wonderful weekend!

 

Five Things on Friday

1.

Whew! I made it through May without a major random health issue.

Why is that surprising? Read "There's Something About May" to get the full story, but suffice it to say that I get a little paranoid beginning on May Day because in four of the past five Mays I've suffered from some weird, random illness or pain. 

Shingles...heart palpitations...

You'd be nervous, too!

I'm grateful I got a break this year.

2.

photo from HERE, courtesy of Natural Bridge Wildlife Ranch

On May 10, twins Wasswa and Nakato were born in New Braunfels, Texas. They are the only living set of giraffe twins, and only the second documented case in the U.S.

They were born at the Natural Bridge Wildlife Ranch, which isn't that far from me, so...

Why haven't I gone to see those precious babies yet?

To see them in all their (digital) cuteness, go HERE or HERE.

3.

I've been spending a lot of time filling out job applications, trying to match my eclectic work experience to each position. It's creative writing (nonfiction - I'm not making anything up!) but not the kind I'd like to be working on.

 

4.

Speaking of trying to find a job, I've taken a vow: I won't visit my hair stylist or buy any wine until I have a steady paycheck. 

(That should be enough incentive to keep me searching, don't you think?)

5. 

I've been attacked...by poison ivy. I'm careful to wear long pants on my morning walks through the woods, so I'm suspecting a sneak attack via Belle, aka Cuddle Puppy.

It's itchy and ugly, but it won't make me stop Belle from snuggling up against me, or from my morning walks through the woods, where the Mountain Pinks are now blooming...

 

 

Linking up with A Rural Journal's Random 5 Friday

 

God, Grant Me The Serenity...

Through the window, I see my brother-in-law's SUV pull up in front of the house. Several younger men gather to help maneuver my mother down from her seat and into the waiting wheelchair.

For a moment exhaustion pinches her face from the three-hour road trip and constant struggle to breathe, but then I see that familiar smile bloom wide, right to the edge of joyful laughter, so contagious that everyone around her smiles, too.

She said she wouldn't miss her grandson's wedding, and by golly, she made it.

I sigh in relief. Maybe she didn't have doubts about her attendance, but I sure did. Eight months ago, for reasons that still haven't been clearly diagnosed, her muscle strength and balance disappeared. Walking was already a challenge because of her asthma, but now she couldn't even stand without support.

At first she fought it, believing she just needed to push herself to build up her strength. She accepted the wheelchair as a temporary accessory, but if you turned your back for a second, she would jump up and try to walk. Upon waking in the morning, she would automatically head down the long hallway, alone and unassisted, to the bathroom.

Consequently, she fell. A lot. I witnessed a few of the falls myself, including one in the middle of the night when she took my dad down on top of her in the bathroom (he tried to stop her fall) and we subsequently spent the night in the emergency room.

I'm not sure how many other falls there were. She and Daddy tried to keep them secret.

"Mama, stop trying to walk without help. You don't want to miss the wedding, do you?" 

She didn't. But it still took a few reminders before she started behaving and playing it safe, using the wheelchair to go down the hall and letting Daddy hover nearby when she needed to stand.

It's been a tough transition for all of us. Mama has always been the caregiver, so strong she makes the Steel Magnolias look like a bunch of wilting lilies. She's the Serenity Prayer and "where there's a will, there's a way" all rolled up in one, put into action. When something needed to be done, she just did it, without any whining or woe-is-me-ing. 

She spent sleepless nights nursing us through the usual and not-so-usual childhood illnesses and injuries...encephalitis, whooping cough, dislocated hips. Later, in her forties, Mama maneuvered my quadriplegic brother's six-foot-frame in and out of his wheelchair, despite her petite size. And just a few years ago, in her late 70's, she took care of my older sister following her hip surgery. 

 

Mama was with me to welcome my firstborn into the world, watched him while I worked and his dad went to school, and attended every special event of his life. There was no way in hell she'd miss his wedding, even if it meant relying on others for a change and accepting life in a wheelchair...at least for a little while. 

God, grant me the serenity...

 

In honor of Mother's Day, Generation Fabulous asked us to talk about that other fabulous generation - our mothers. Whether we like it or not, and whether we knew them or not, our mothers helped shape us into the women we are today. I realize I'm blessed with an amazing mother and the chance to know her through the eyes of an adult, and I'm happy I got to share a little bit about her with you. To read more mom stories, go HERE.

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I Blame LinkedIn

Instead of exercising this morning before heading to work, I made the mistake of clicking on my LinkedIn profile when I got on the computer to pay some bills. By the time I finished updating it, I was scrambling to make it to work on time.

So as soon as I stepped in the door this evening after work, I changed into my work-out clothes, determined to keep up my routine. But I was starving. First I would eat, then I would work out.

But I couldn't work out right after eating, could I? So I cleaned off my desk and sat down to finish paying bills until enough time had passed that I wouldn't puke when I jumped rope.

Money on my brain, or rather the lack thereof, I couldn't resist clicking on the email from LinkedIn telling me about jobs I might like. 

Well, I didn't like any of those, but I kept clicking and found one that actually did appeal to me and matched my experience and skills. So I clicked on "apply", which took me to a window requesting my resume.

Uh-oh. Updating my resume had been on my to-do list...or I should say, it's been ignored on my to-do list. It immediately moved up in priority.

I spent the next thirty minutes...hour...who knows how long, tidying it up to match the job, then finished applying.

Time to work out. No, it was late. I would just pay bills and get in bed early so I could wake up early enough to work out.

Oh, but first, I needed to print out one of my critique group member's submission for the next meeting in case I got called to substitute teach in the morning. I like to do my critiques during my long break periods. Too cheap to use new paper, I decided to clean out my file cabinet and find some paper I could recycle.

So I headed into the bedroom where the file cabinet is and noticed the basket of towels on the bed waiting to be folded. I remembered I had clothes in the washer and dryer, so I turned on "Dancing with the Stars" for ten minutes while I folded, then moved the loads around downstairs.

But instead of folding the next basket of clothes I pulled from the dryer (just Tom's work clothes - wrinkling wouldn't hurt them) I thought I better get back to paying bills.

Back on the computer, a quick glance at Facebook reminded me I wanted to submit one of my blog posts to BlogHer's Voices of the Year.

I'm getting very audacious in my old age! Perhaps I've read this enough times to believe it:

"Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers, why not gather your own bouquet?"

- from P.S. I Love You on my bathroom wall

 

But which post should I submit? I started scrolling through my posts until I came to The Artist. That would do. I filled in the nomination page then shared my audaciousness on the GenerationFabulous Facebook page, which is full of supportive women, but I've been neglectful of my own support for them lately, so I spent some time reading over a few posts and voting for their submissions as well. 

Finally! Time to pay those bills. Except, gosh, couldn't this whole crazy scenario make a great blog post? Especially if I mention the Painted Bunting I spotted out the bathroom window while I was flossing my teeth, in between eating dinner and sitting down to pay bills the first time? The one I captured in my camera when I left mid-floss to sneak out the back door and creep up on via the side porch?

And that's why I never seem to get anything done. I blame it all on LinkedIn. Now excuse me, but I really need to finish flossing, pay those bills and get in bed.

Oh, but first...

 

Oh, my aching back...

So yesterday, I get home from work and Tom tells me he needs my help, which makes me happy, because he rarely accepts help on his projects. That's the artist in him, I think.

Anyway, he needed my help lifting a heavy rock he'd found on one of his scavenger hunts through the countryside in his little Suzuki Samurai. (His latest project is building a stone driveway, just like the stone terrace down by our little pond and our front walkway...only multiplied by like a zillion because it's a long driveway! Crazy man.)

So I changed clothes and we headed off in the Suzuki, ultimately driving off the road into a wooded area. This huge flat rock rested about twenty feet away. As a team, we lifted it and carried it to the Suzuki. On the way, I felt a tug in my back, but we were almost there, so I just kept going and tried not to make any sudden moves or twists.

I forgot about it until this morning, when after one small movement I felt this TWANG where the tug used to be, followed by pain so intense it took my breath away for a minute.  So I called the man with tons of back pain experience  - Tom - and he reminded me we have an inversion table. 

I'm happy to say that after ibuprofen, ten minutes on the inversion table, ten minutes on a heating pad, thirty minutes of light jogging on the treadmill, and some careful stretching, I was able to go to work. 

Well, after I removed the mouse from the back floorboard of my car and tossed it into the woods, that is. 

And after I heard that one of my dear friends lost her mother unexpectedly yesterday morning. (Please keep her and her family in your prayers!)

 

 

The rest of the day wasn't so bad. I had a request to purchase some photos, a positive reply to a writing job application I submitted, one of my posts was featured on the front page of GenerationFabulous.com, and I met a lovely couple at work who immigrated to Austin from Russia twenty years ago but still have fabulous accents. Oh, and I had an optimistic email reply for another potential job.

Tonight my back is still a little achy, but it's just a good reminder that my body doesn't like surprises. I need to work out every day, and I've been slipping lately. It's the only body I have and I need to take care of it. 

I hope you all had a wonderful day. (To my blog friends...I've been very neglectful but I hope you forgive me. Once I get these to-do lists under control again, I'll be making the rounds. I miss you! Thank you for coming by to see me, anyway!)

I still find each day too short for all the thoughts I want to think, all the walks I want to take, all the books I want to read and all the friends I want to see. 

~John Burroughs

Sigh.

~me

 

 

Hard Times Require Furious Dancing

(photo by Deborah Barrett)

I love dancing.

Nevermind the therapeutic benefits, both mental and physical. When I hear certain beats and rhythms, I really can't sit still. If nothing else, my toe will be dancing.

What I love almost as much as dancing is getting others out on the dance floor with me, getting them to forget about what other people think and just get lost in the music and the movement. The smiles on their faces make my heart soar.

But dancing is therapeutic, no doubt about it. Along with writing, photography, spending time with friends, and pounding on my drums, it's one of my favorites. (Sometimes I wonder why I need so much therapy...)

Alas, between working weekends and traveling to see my parents'so much, my dancing nights have dwindled over the past year. Consequently, my stress levels have risen. So this past weekend, I talked a bunch of friends into joining me on the dance floor.

It was a blast!

That was sweet!, but having a friend think of me when she saw a copy of "Hard Times Require Furious Dancing" by Alice Walker in a shop, and take the time to send me the photo of it...well, that was just as sweet! (Thank you again, Debbie!)

Here are a few other sweet! moments from the past week...

 

Monday: bird-watching and bird-listening; managing to put off a trip to the grocery store; taking care of dusty but important things on your to-do list; a day at home with your husband, even if you're busy with your own projects

Tuesday: waking early enough to write and exercise before work; another mallard sighting; redbud trees blooming longer than usual; meeting other photographers; helping a friend celebrate her birthday

Wednesday: waking early enough two days in a row to write and exercise before work; sleeping through a hailstorm when you're exhausted; finishing a book that's driving you crazy wanting to know how it ends

Thursday: time to weed through your untended, overgrown email inbox; your husband caring enough about a wounded snake to put it in a terrarium so it can die in peace; walking the streets of Venice again, at least in your memory and words and photos

Friday: traffic working with you on an early morning road trip; splashes of bluebonnets lining a highway; time to chat with your dad, even if it's in a hospital waiting room; your mom breezing through her nuclear stress test with no problems; getting together with friends and spending hours on a dance floor; good bands

Saturday: sleeping in; biscuits and bacon for breakfast, thanks to your dad; a yard decorated with pink and purple flowers; hanging out with your parents all day; a hug from, and chance to visit with, your sister; a former co-worker contacting you for a potential new job

Sunday: sleeping in, Day 2; a walk around your old neighborhood on a brisk sunshine-filled day; new houses going up in an old neighborhood; a field of tiny yellow flowers; stopping along a highway to capture bluebonnets and Indian paintbrushes with your camera; wiggly puppies welcoming you home

Monday: getting to work in a library with a view of Texas hills and blue skies

 

I hope all of you had a week filled with therapeutic, sweet! moments, too! 

“the world has changed: it did not change without your prayers without your faith without your determination to believe in liberation and kindness; without your dancing through the years that had no beat.”

~ Alice Walker, "Hard Times Require Furious Dancing: New Poems"

On Breathing

 

I'm playing catch up.

I knew when I signed up for the Scintilla Project, a two-week writing commitment, that it would be a challenge to write something every day.

I accept that there are going to be some days I just won't have time to write, especially since I usually have to roll a prompt around in my brain for a bit before I decide how to answer it.

I'm going to try my best to respond to each one, even if it means posting two on one day. But I'm going to cut myself some slack and not stress about it if I don't.

It's more important to breathe...

 

Scintilla Project Day 4:

Being trapped in a confined environment can turn an ordinary experience into a powder keg. Write about a thing that happened to you while you were using transportation; anything from your first school bus ride, to a train or plane, to being in the backseat of the car on a family road trip.

We tossed our bags into the cargo space of the charter bus idling in the church parking lot, said our goodbyes to our parents, and boarded the charter bus, excited about our week-long journey to St. Louis. Thirty or forty of us, barely teenagers, members of the youth choir, setting out on a summer adventure...with a few adult chaperones, of course.

I was excited about traveling through the midwest, the heart of the United States. I couldn't wait to see Dorothy's Kansas, Tom Sawyer's Mississippi River, and that huge Gateway Arch. 

But before we even got out of Texas, my pubescent hormones and tree pollen teamed up to spoil my trip. It started as a tightness in my chest that climbed higher, squeezing my air passages until all I focused on during that long drive through the night to Joplin was breathing.

I sat on the arm rest of a chair, gripping the rail above my head, pulling as I struggled to breathe in, drifting into an uneasy sleep as I exhaled. I remember a dream-like stop at a random emergency room. Maybe two. Instead of sharing a motel room with my friends, I bunked with Mrs. Eaton, the pianist, so she could keep an eye on me.

No giggling, no gossip, no flipping through television stations for me, just sitting on a toilet in a steamy bathroom so I could continue breathing. 

The only thing I toured in St. Louis was the mall across the street from our hotel, and the airport, where I at least experienced the excitement of my first airplane ride, all alone and feeling very grown-up, back to Houston, where my mother drove me straight to my allergist at the very moment my friends were probably gazing out of the Mississippi River from the top of the Arch.

 

And that story leads directly in to my next...

 

Scintilla Project Day 3:

Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind. Write about a time you taught someone a lesson you didn't want to teach.

 

The wheezing. The coughing. The chest retractions. I knew the sounds and symptoms. Antihistamines, albuterol, corticosteriods, and other asthma and allergy medications overflowed a large basket on the kitchen counter. Beside it three nebulizer masks air dried, waiting for the next round. Two nebulizers were in position on end tables, taking the place of whatever decorative knick-knacks I'd once had there, before I had three kids with asthma.

The boys were easy. I'd slip on their masks and flip the switches on the nebulizers. They'd nestle on the couch with a picture book or a toy, or ask me to turn up the volume on the television so they could hear it over the hum of the motors, and then they'd do their best to see through the mist. At three and five, they were antsy about having to stay still so long, but they understood it was necessary.

TG was another story. She developed asthma before she was a year old. The nebulizer mask was confining, uncomfortable, and very scary to her at first. She didn't understand that it would save her life, but I did, so when it was time for her treatment, I figured out a way to secure her on my lap with one arm and a leg wrapped across her little body to keep her from flailing loose, while the other hand held the mask securely in place so the medicine could reach her lungs. I ignored her tears. I dodged her kicks and attempts to bite me, instead tightening my hold on her. Tough love because I loved her so much.

Over time, she quit fighting me during her treatments, realizing they actually helped. Over more time, they all got so much better they no longer needed inhalers very often, much less nebulizer treatments. 

And then they became teenagers, needing that tough love for entirely different reasons. But that's another story.

 

Tree pollen, you don't scare us anymore!

 

 

 

Divulging My (not-so-secret fitness and health) Secrets

 

"I think in terms of the day's resolutions, not the year's."  ~Henry Moore

 

I recently came across a photo of myself taken on one of my girls' weekends in Port Aransas several years ago. I was standing by the rail of the ferry crossing to the island, flanked by two friends.

But at first glance, I didn't even recognize myself in the photo. Soon after it was taken, I started on a journey to get healthy. Not to lose weight, because I felt I'd already tried everything I could, diet- and exercise-wise, to lose those last fifteen pounds, but no luck. I was resigned to my weight. It wasn't that much, after all. I just wanted to be healthy and fit inside as I headed toward my fiftieth birthday.

I never expected that those changes I made in my life would melt the pounds away and make me feel healthier and more energetic than I'd ever, ever felt before. Seeing that photo made me realize what a huge difference our every day choices can make.

And it all started with a Lenten Promise.

I've never been one to go the "giving up" route during Lent. I know me too well. Why set myself up for failure?

Instead, I preferred to add beneficial things that I could continue beyond Lent, like saying the Rosary every morning when I walk the dogs or doing something nice for someone every day.

But that year I got it in my head to give up sugar as the first step of my journey to better health.

I quit adding it to my coffee and vowed not to eat any store-bought sweets...except for dark chocolate. I didn't like dark chocolate at the time, but I had heard it was sort of healthy, so if the Smarties leftover from Halloween or the Chips Ahoy cookies I knew were in the pantry starting calling my name, I allowed myself a piece of dark chocolate to pacify my sweet tooth. 

I also allowed myself homemade treats of any kind when they were offered - in moderation, of course. (They're made with love, so it's probably a sin to turn them down, right?) 

But it surprised me how hard it was to pass that candy bowl without grabbing something. It had become a habit. I started praying for the strength to stick with my Lenten promise, and that's when I finally "got" the giving-up thing: it's about realizing your own limitations and weaknesses, and learning to rely on God's strength instead of your own. 

By the end of Lent, the candy bowl no longer tempted me and I could easily pass up store-bought goodies. My taste buds had come back to life and my sweet tooth was satisfied by a handful of grapes or strawberries. 

(Alas, along the way I developed a love for dark chocolate. Now I look forward to two pieces in the evening.)

That first step led to others, taken one at a time. Along the way I continually educated myself on health and fitness so that perimenopause was pretty much a breeze for me (and those around me!)

I've decided to share my journey with others. Perhaps the steps I took aren't the right ones for everyone, but on the other hand, they might be; at the very least, I hope to inspire others to know they're never too old to make positive changes in their health and their life.

But there's too much to include in one blog post. Maybe I'll create a series...or even an e-book. I'll keep you posted. 

Meanwhile, what changes have you made in your life that resulted in more than you hoped for?

(The spam folder is still swallowing comments, so don't worry if yours seems to just disappear. I'll retrieve it as soon as possible. Thanks!)

  

Empty Spaces, Cedar Fever, and a Handful of Stones

There's a big empty space in my living room now. My middle son came home this weekend and helped me pack up the memories and cart the tree downstairs to its place in the storage room. (Daniel also helped Tom cut and carry firewood. We love it when he comes home!)

Usually my rocking chair sits in that empty space the rest of the year, the old wooden one we bought at Sears in my first pregnancy...the one I spent hours in, rocking my babies in the middle of the night. As we do every year, we moved it into my library/office to make room for the tree.

 I'm thinking of keeping it there; I need a place to sit and read, and I love rocking in it, even if I don't have a baby to soothe to sleep. 

Rocking is good for the soul at any age, don't you think? And I didn't rock nearly enough when the chair sat in the living room.

 

 

 

Actually, I feel like I have a big empty space in my head right now, too, thanks to a blossoming case of Cedar Fever... or maybe it's from the antihistimines I'm taking to combat it.

It's mating season for Ashe Junipers, commonly called mountain cedars, and we're surrounded by them; the slightest breeze makes pollen explode from the trees in huge clouds that drift straight to your nose and eyes, making you sneeze and wheeze and want to scratch your eyes out.

Alas, these warm winter days I love makes the pollen even more amorous! 

I blame my antihistimine/Cedar Fever brain fog that I haven't posted this handful of small stones yet...

#19: The sun drops behind the hills, splashing salsa on a blue-corn-tortilla-sky.

# 20: Spending time with old friends helps patch the worn spots on the fabric of your soul.

# 21: Under the moon's eye, even the road whispers.

# 22: Treetops, drizzled with sunlight. 

#22.5 Fresh blooms, budding trees, and the smell of new-mown grass, wrapped in the trill of bird song, a gift of spring in the middle of winter.

 

 

I took the above photo this morning...our typical path right smack dab in the middle of those dang cedars. But as miserable as they make me, and as much as everyone curses them, I love them, if only for the splashes of green they offer when everything else has gone gray and dormant. 

Have you picked up any small stones lately? Please share!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mastering the Fine Art of Procrastination

If we are ever in doubt about what to do, it is a good rule to ask ourselves what we shall wish on the morrow that we had done. ~ John Lubbock

It's all John Lubbock's fault that my Christmas decorations still languish in boxes piled in the middle of the living room.

Instead of spending Friday writing, cleaning, decorating, and all of the other "ing"s I've neglected, I jumped in my car and drove across town to have lunch with my brother's high school girlfriend because I decided I would regret not seeing her more than I would regret not freeing those poor decorations.

Vickie  had always been really sweet to me and I hadn't seen her in almost 40 years. We recently connected on Facebook after she stopped by to see my parents, and I couldn't pass up the chance to see her in person.

And then John's words were all the encouragement I needed Saturday to spend the day in old Georgetown, shopping resale and antique stores with friends, and then heading to a friend's Christmas party that night, where I caught up with people I rarely get to see and danced to awesome live music.

Sunday was full with church and work. I didn't even need John to talk me into just watching a movie with Tom and the middle son, who came home for a quick visit (mostly to do laundry, but that's okay with me!) last night instead of scratching things off of a list.

So here I am on Monday again, but wouldn't you know, I picked up a cold somewhere in all my running around over the past couple of weeks, so today, I'm taking it slow and easy, minute to minute.

First I slept late, then took a long walk with the puppies, bundled up against the brisk breeze. Winter came back to see us last night and is sticking around today, with highs in the 40's, even with full sunshine. The last few days have been warm and gray, and I'm relishing this change despite my stuffy head and chest.

So today the decorations might make it out of the box...but they might not. I might work on Christmas cards, or my book, or photographs, or laundry...or I might just head off on another walk with the puppies, or curl up with a book and a cup of hot tea on the couch, or doze off, watching an old movie. 

I guess I need to ask myself what I "shall wish on the morrow" that I had done. But whatever I do today, I refuse to stress about anything. The sun is shining and it's a glorious day.

And here are a few sweet! moments from the past week:

 

Monday: remembering the day you became a mother; celebrating your oldest son's birthday with Mexican food and margaritas; catching up on email - almost;  Christmas lights twinkling in a city park

Tuesday: a safe road trip to your parents' house; a sweet friend dropping in to visit, bringing Subway sandwiches; the view from the 30th floor in the Houston Medical Center on a stormy day; friends thinking of you for photography gigs

Wednesday: nurses who care about their patients and doctors who make house calls; getting a Post of the Week from Hilary at the Smitten Image; a call from your son

Thursday: your dad taking his blood sugar and blood pressure and meds first thing in the morning without you nagging him; neighbors who rake your parents' yard without being asked; arriving home after a few days away; an afternoon walk with your puppies

 

 

Friday: seeing a dear friend's face for the first time in almost 40 years; blowing off to-do's to watch a movie with your sweetie

 

 

Saturday: spending the day with friends exploring resale and antique shops; Reuben sandwiches; finding an old picnic basket marked $3; dancing with new and old...er, I mean, longtime...friends to the music of Andrew Venson, Soulman Sam Evans, and company; word from your oldest that he survived the half marathon obstacle course he ran that morning

 

 

(I love old picnic baskets!!!)

 

Sunday: kneeling to pray between your husband and son; French onion soup when you're sick with a cold; steaks hot off the grill, courtesy of your son

Monday: sleeping in when you're sick, a walk with your puppies on a glorious winter day, and a wide open, unscheduled day ahead of you

Belle is leaping through the grass!

 

Here's to a week full of good health and sweet! moments for all of us!

 

My Village

Summer and autumn traded places while I was gone. The purple flowers have faded, and the splashes of gold have moved from the blossoms that used to line the road up to the trees.

It's amazing the change a few days can make.

 

“Friends show their love in times of trouble.” ~ Euripes

I drove home from my parents Friday afternoon. I was scheduled to work Saturday and Sunday... plus I missed Tom, the puppies, my bed, my dirt road, the sound and smell of the woods...

Still, it was tough leaving, especially after spending the previous night in the Emergency Room. Mama fell in the bathroom around 1 in the morning, whacking her head hard enough on the floor to bring up an instant bruise, huge and purple as a plum.

Hallelujah, she passed the catscan, X-rays, blood and urine tests, and I drove us all home just as the sun rose red on the horizon. While they slept, I got her prescriptions filled and gathered my things, then before leaving, sat with Mama to fill out and submit applications for Medicare Part D, which covers prescriptions. I found out from the pharmacist that Daddy hasn't been getting a lot of his meds filled. When I asked Daddy about it, he said they were too expensive.

(Of course, Daddy doesn't think they're necessary, anyway, and that not taking them has nothing to do with the recent blockage in his carotid artery. I disagree.)

Anyway, by the time I crawled into my own bed Friday evening, I had somehow been up for 36 hours, running on nervous energy and a few cups of coffee, my mind in a whirl, wondering and worrying about leaving Mama and Daddy there alone. 

It helped knowing my sweet sons were heading the opposite way in the morning, planning to spend the weekend with their grandparents. Tommy took my dad grocery shopping. (I had gone to the store several times, but only bought them healthy stuff, considering Daddy's diabetic and all. I didn't ask what they bought this time.)

And what a relief when my friend Rae called letting me know she had picked up Whataburgers for the whole crew Saturday evening, and again on Sunday, when another longtime friend Debbie and her mom dropped in on them with KFC. Debbie just lives around the corner from my parents and has urged them to call if they need anything at all.

My sister Brenda and her husband will also pick up groceries and run other errands as needed, and Brenda is working on filling out the Veteran's Administration Compensation forms. Plus home health care started today with a visit from a nurse.

Mama and Daddy's neighbors Hector and Estella have also stressed to call them or knock on their door if they need anything at all, and they've been dropping food off for my parents for years now.

Sigh. Such a relief!

It's still tough being so far away. We've tried for years to get them to move closer, and have now started trying to persuade them to move in with us, but no luck, and I don't anticipate them changing their minds.

So knowing all of these wonderful people are close, holding hands around them, ready to catch them if they fall...well, there are really no words to express how much that means to me and the peace of mind it gives. 

It's beyond sweet!, that's for sure.

Best friends are those who make your problems their problems so you don't have to go through them alone.

~ unknown 

I hope I'm that kind of friend.

And now for a few sweet!s from the past week... 

 

Sunday: the full moon keeping you company on an evening drive to Houston; seeing your Daddy back home after a major surgery; your son letting you know he made it home safely, too; an email asking to share your photos of a Futuro Home

Monday: making progress on editing the photos from your latest photo shoot; plumbing fixes that are easy and inexpensive; taking care of things for your parents; a late afternoon walk around your old block

Tuesday: word from your relatives and friends on the east coast that they made it through Hurricane Sandy relatively okay; more progress on photo editing; sweet neighbors; hearing that your dad doesn't need cataract surgery yet

Wednesday: happy photography customers; running for the first time in two weeks; knowing exactly what to get your mom for an early birthday present; trick-or-treaters; a call from your son

Thursday: the smiling faces of friends dropping by to see you and your parents; finally getting your dad to follow his morning medication regimen; home health nurses; online bill paying from anywhere; watching Ellen with your mom; hearing your parents kiss goodnight 

Friday: angels who protect and cushion your mom when she falls so she isn't seriously injured; being there for your parents in an emergency; "character" patients you can listen to when you have to spend the night in the Emergency Room; staying wide awake for 36 hours so you can finish up tasks for your parents and still safely drive home, despite huge traffic jams; the autumn sun setting in the Texas Hill Country

Saturday: time for a walk with your husband and puppies before heading to work; friends who voluntarily drop in and bring food to your parents; sons who want to spend the weekend with their grandparents

Sunday: worshiping with your husband; working within view of a vineyard in the Texas Hill Country on an autumn day

Monday: sleeping in; a long morning walk with your puppies and your camera; finding one Mexican hat blooming near your pond, reluctant to let go of summer; a haircut and color by awesome Michael

 

 

Hope your coming week is full of sweet! moments!

P.S. Tom's youngest brother John has spent the last 2 days in Intensive Care with asthma. According to the last report, he was off the ventilator and able to breathe again, and on the verge of leaving ICU for a regular room.

Great news! But please keep him in your prayers. Besides being a great brother and brother-in-law, husband, dad to four, and godfather to TG, he's an awesome Phoenix policeman. Click HERE to see how he coaxed a confession from a murderer several years ago.

P.S.S. In case I don't get a chance to post this tomorrow...GO VOTE!

 

A Week of Blessings

This is the way I remember it:

Tom and I were driving down the highway, headed to Houston's Methodist Hospital for the first time, because Daddy was about to have surgery for an abdominal aneurism. I was pregnant with my first baby and worried about Daddy.  I was praying, praying, praying...

...and then I was crying, crying, crying, because Bread's Everything I Own came on the radio. I was afraid my baby would never know its grandfather. I was afraid I wouldn't have my Daddy to hug and laugh with anymore.

"Is there someone you know,
you're loving them so,
but taking them all for granted.
You may lose them one day,
someone takes them away,
and they don't hear the words you long to say."

I was afraid.

But Daddy made it through that surgery, hallelujah, and the next and the next and the next... you name a surgery on the body's cardiovascular system and he's had it at least once, with a few strokes and seizures in between. I've lost count.

He always bounces back, strong and vigorous, and except for all of the scars, you'd never know he's had so much go wrong inside. 

This latest was his fourth carotid artery surgery - he's had two on each side. I wonder if that's a record?

His mini-stroke on his birthday weekend was from a slight blockage in the left carotid, but in the follow-up arteriogram this past Tuesday, the doctors saw that his right carotid was about 95% blocked and required immediate surgery. The left one could wait.

During the actual surgery they discovered it was closer to 98% blocked, plus the old graft had weakened and an aneurism had developed. A ticking time bomb in my Daddy's neck.

I'm happy to report the doctors were able to diffuse the bomb. Daddy made it through yet another surgery, just fine, this past Thursday. I spent several days there, taking over his role as my mom's caregiver, making sure she was able to be at his side every day.

I tell you, there's nothing sweeter than helping your mom stand up to give your dad a kiss in his hospital bed, seeing the love shining in their eyes as they lean in for that touch and to say 'I love you' one more time.

I'll be headed back again to Houston this evening, after a big photography job my sweet friend Darla got for me. I also needed to come home to do laundry (I only went prepared for two nights), pay bills, and check on my baby girl who came down with pneumonia this week.

There were a few stressful, tearful, hurt and even angry hours when plans I thought I had in place for when I was gone crumbled. But I should have remembered the message on the penny in my pocket: "In God We Trust". Everything worked out, thanks to my sister, my niece, my parents' neighbors, and my son.

Yes, that same little boy who grew inside of me on my first trip to Methodist hospital, who perhaps sensed my tears and worry, not only got to spend lots of time with my mom and dad, but he headed down a highway himself yesterday from Austin to be there for his grandparents and ease my mind. 

Life is full of sweet blessings.

Here are a few others I noticed over the past week.

 

Monday: managing to miss the traffic jams in both Austin and Houston; arriving at your parents' house, safe and sound

Tuesday: helping your mom and dad; meeting interesting, kind people in the hospital; prayers from your friends; sleeping with your mom

Wednesday: helpful, caring people; laughter in a hospital; nurses 

Thursday: watching your parents kiss before your dad heads into surgery; eating omelettes with your mom after a long night sleeping in a chair; gospel singers serenading the ICU waiting room; a familiar, friendly face sitting beside you, lending support; your dad making it through surgery just fine; your baby girl who has pneumonia finally getting in to see a doctor and getting a prescription

Friday: seeing your dad sitting up in a chair beside his ICU bed, eating soup, and then getting released to a regular room; people who step in to help care for your parents when you have to leave, who understand caring for loved ones is a privelege and blessing, not a burden; a cup of hot coffee on a cold, late night drive 

Saturday: your metal roof bathed in moonlight and a wiggly puppy greeting you on the rock path leading to your front door after too many stressful days away; snuggling into the warmth of your sleeping husband; knowing your mom and dad are okay even though you aren't there taking care of them; your son stepping in to help care for his grandparents; your zoom lens back on your camera, good as new; bringing groceries to your sick baby girl and seeing with your own eyes that she's okay; reassurance from a nurse friend that your dad's hallucinations are normal after surgery; cyclops cookies, courtesy of your husband and middle son

Sunday: crisp, clean autumn mornings; attending Mass with your husband and son; your whole church praying for your dad

 

Thanks so much to all of you who lifted my Daddy in prayer this past week. Please continue to think of him and my mom as we deal with the next fews days and the transition back home. Also, please keep my baby girl in your prayers that she heals up from this bout of pneumonia.

I hope that even if you're going through tough, stressful times, you're still able to notice the sweet!s all around you. They're there, I promise.

Weren't we talking about thinning hair? (The Rogaine Verdict)

 

It's been over a year since I slipped into Target and bought my first box of Rogaine, wishing I was wearing a disguise, fearing someone I knew would see me and know (gasp!) that I had thinning hair!

Ha! Like it wasn't obvious just by looking at me? We can be so silly, can't we?

I wrote about buying that first box, and the reasons why, in Hair, or the Lack Thereof, and promised I would keep you posted on the results.

Well, over the past year I've bought several more boxes of minoxidil, both brand name (Rogaine) and generic from different stores. It doesn't bother me at all anymore to grab a box off the shelf and toss it in my shopping basket. 

I've waited to give you a report, though, because minoxidil takes time. I wanted to be sure. But a year is long enough, so here it is, my verdict on minoxidil, aka Rogaine...

(Drumroll, please...)

It works. It really does. 

At least, for me, it works. And it's so cheap and easy... even if you're buying the name brand! Why didn't I try it before?

Now, granted, my hair is still thin and baby fine. Minoxidil won't change the kind of hair you have; it only stimulates growth. But I can see, per square inch of my scalp, there are definitely more hairs growing.

How do I know? When I part my hair, I no longer see a huge amount of scalp. I just see a normal part. I have also watched lots of little baby hairs grow into adult hairs over the past year. It's pretty dang exciting!

I'm really not sure what I was so embarrassed about now. Thinning hair is such a common problem for both men and women. I had a huge response to my first post on Vibrant Nation. There are so many companies and products out there trying to make money off of this problem without delivering results. We deserve better than that.

So why is there such a stigma over using minoxidil?

Per my doctor's suggestion, I totally skipped the women's version and went straight for the men's extra-strength. If you're pregnant or breast-feeding, that's a no-no. But most women experiencing thinning hair are entering perimenopause, and those warnings don't apply. The only other warning for women is about facial hair, which worried me a little, but I haven't experienced that at all. 

FYI, the solution works better than foam for women. The dropper provides more accurate measurement and better distribution on the scalp. I learned that the hard way.

You should also not apply minoxidil if you're having your hair colored that day. Again, another hard lesson. It will sting like your head is on fire! (In all fairness, the instructions tell you that... but I had forgotten!) 

You have to apply the solution twice a day, once in the morning and once at night, but it only takes a few seconds. The directions say to apply it a couple of hours before going to bed, but I usually do it right before snuggling with Tom, and he hasn't grown any extra hair on his shoulder.

Because you massage it into your scalp with your fingers, I always, always, always wash my hands thoroughly after applying it. You're supposed to wait four hours after application before shampooing, so I often wait to apply it after my shower in the morning, and I've noticed it seems to add body to my hair.

One of the most common side effects is itching of the scalp. I didn't experience that until recently, after months of use. I'm pretty sure it was because I forgot that warning about using it on the day you were getting your hair colored...

Sigh.

So, do I now have a head full of lush hair, thanks to minoxidil? 

No.

But I do have hair covering my scalp, and I know there are some of you out there who will know... that's enough.

P.S. I wasn't paid anything by anyone for this post.  

 

 

 

 

 

The Art of Relaxation

One September about twelve years ago I made a phone call to a previously unknown-to-me condominium complex in Port Aransas, Texas, and reserved a three bedroom condo on the 5th floor.

I needed to escape.

Not a permanent escape, of course. Just a few days all to myself, where I didn't have to cook anything, clean anything, be anywhere at a certain time, make any phone calls, settle any arguments, attend any meetings...

I could just take care of myself and no one else.

And my body literally ached, mentally and physically, for the beach. For the lounging, the reading, the song of the surf and birds, the sun on my body.

A few margaritas sounded good, too.

So I rounded up some friends who needed a short escape just as much as I did (I couldn't afford that place by myself!) and we spent a glorious weekend on the coast.

Our condo overlooked the beach on one side and the bay on the other. I lucked out because some of the women relaxed by cooking and a few others by cleaning, so they got their dream weekend and I got mine!

(You can tell by the way I'm dressed... I'm the old lady in the middle... I really needed a Mommy break!)

I've gone back every fall except one, with mostly the same women, give or take ten or twenty. (It caught on, as you can imagine.) 

Days of unscheduled time at the beach with dear friends, a good book, my camera, and a cocktail or two. That's my answer to BlogHer's Life Well Lived "Get Happy" Question of the Week...

What are your favorite relaxation techniques?

And what benefits do you see from practicing them?

Oh, I forgot to mention the benefits...

They're too numerous to count, but they include sanity, serenity, deeper friendships...

...Just one big <sigh> that lasts almost a whole year. (Two trips a year would be perfect. Maybe three to play it safe.)

So now tell me, because I'm nosy, what are your favorite relaxation techniques and what benefits do you see from practicing them?

(After sharing, visit the main post on BlogHer (here) and don't forget to enter the current Life Well Lived Sweepstakes! (here))

 

Thinking of another Memorial Day Weekend (plus my Sweet!s of My Week)

A day with our kids and other families, swimming in a cold river, eating fresh pineapple, grilling burgers... a night spent laughing and dancing to Johnny Dee and the Rocket '88s... and then a phone call early on that Tuesday morning afterwards that made me realize how much I had been taking for granted and how quickly life can change directions.

That Tuesday was fourteen years ago today. Tom left for work, expecting it to be like any other day, but it wasn't.  He didn't expect the other car to come into his lane, didn't expect to spend a week in the hospital or the summer trying to heal and recover instead of building our home. He didn't expect to live with pain for the next fourteen years.

But that's what happened, whether he expected it or not. And the thing is, we got through it. We built our home... not that summer, but there were other summers, and I'm grateful for that. We've spent more days swimming in cold water with family and friends, and evenings laughing and dancing. I don't think a day goes by when Tom isn't in some degree of pain, but somehow he moves on and doesn't let it stop him from doing what he needs, or wants, to do.

(I took notes and turned them into an essay as therapy... click "In the Aftermath of a Car Crash" if you want to read more about it.)

It wasn't the last unexpected detour in our road we've encountered, and I'm sure there are more waiting for us. I can't say I'm grateful it happened. I'd love to tell you something positive that came from it, but honestly, I haven't been able to see that ray of light yet. Perhaps it's shining where I can't see it. I can only hope so.

But I'm still grateful, period, that whatever roadblock is in front of us now, we're approaching it together.

Life is just too short for grudges and regrets that burn holes in your heart, for dwelling on the past or the future so long that you miss your today.

It's too short not to pursue your passion even if you only have a few seconds free each day to do it.

Too short to sit back and wait for things to happen, or for someone else to do it, or to make excuses.

Too short not to love with your whole heart, leaving no room for pride or selfishness, always trying to understand, listen, forgive, and ask forgiveness.

Too short not to take care of yourself and those you love.

Life is just too short, period, and too wonderful to take for granted.

(I've spared you the most graphic images of Tom. His face was split open. You're welcome.)

And now for a few sweet! moments of my week...

Sunday: chunks of time for writing; sitting in a dark theater, laughing at Dark Shadows with 2/3 of your kids, flashing back to watching the series with your dad; theater popcorn, courtesy of your son; giving my time for a friend

Monday: being asked to critique a high schooler's short story; friends pulling together to support another friend; a framed photo of you and your daughter from more than a decade ago sitting on your desk while you work, a belated Mother's Day gift from your baby girl

Tuesday: a songbird greeting you first thing in the morning; a day with your daughter, running errands, grocery shopping, meeting her new roommates; a funny movie with friends; popcorn for dinner twice in one week

Wednesday: Texas farmland and wide open spaces; supporting a dear friend as she says goodbye to her mother; catching up with long-time friends; your husband taking care of a mama mouse and her babies that he found in the garage, rather than put them outside where they'd surely be eaten by a snake 

(but now what do we do with them???)

Thursday: working out for the first time in a week; hours free to work on your book; two walks with your dogs in one day; friends who send you links to freelance jobs; not having to drive anywhere all day! 

Friday: turtles and yellow-crowned night heron sightings, even if you forgot to bring your zoom lens on your morning walk (do you spot it up there in the drying-up pond?); your puppy pouncing through the tall grass after lizards; scratching things off your to-do list; a call from your sister; sigh-evoking engagement photos of your son and his love; your baby girl home for the weekend

Saturday: having your husband by your side, through good days and bad days

Share your sweet moments with me! I think sharing makes them sweeter.

I hope your coming week is full of sweet, magical moments and that you remember not to take a single one for granted!

This world, after all our science and sciences, is still a miracle; wonderful, inscrutable, magical and more, to whosoever will think of it.

~Thomas Carlyle

There's Something About May...

Maybe I'm paranoid, but I think May doesn't like me.

Tuesday was Tom's 55th birthday. I've barely been home the past week and looked forward to having some time off yesterday afternoon to write a post here about how grateful I am for each of those 55 years... especially the 30 I've shared with him...

Instead, I spent most of the afternoon doubled up in pain on the couch until I drove myself to the emergency room, where I spent the rest of the evening.

I was sure it was a gall bladder attack. It hit right after eating one of my veggie omelettes that I drown in picante sauce, and the only other time I've had pain like that (other than labor for each one of my kids) is after eating a spicy Thai salad several years ago. My friends with experience told me then that it sounded like a gall bladder rebellion.

Not life threatening, so when it subsided a bit, I just called and made an appointment for today with my doctor and tried to get comfortable on the couch.

But I couldn't. When it didn't go away after a few hours, and even felt like it was getting worse again, I thought I better get a second opinion, or I guess third, if you count Google, and off to the ER I went, in such a rush I didn't even grab a book.

To put it into perspective, I think it's been over thirty years since I went to an emergency room for myself. Who has time for that? I didn't even go when I thought my heart was going to explode out of my chest two years ago. 

In May.

Ah, May. Why don't you like me?

Shingles had attacked me the previous May. Or maybe that year it was the super duper urinary tract infection... only the second one I've had in my life... and shingles was the year before.

At any rate, last May I held my breath all month, wondering what disease or affliction would hit me out of the blue. Surprise... I made it through with no surprises! I thought the May curse was broken. 

I guess it wasn't.

On the up side, my internal organs passed all of yesterday's tests with flying colors. An hour after the morphine shot, my pain went away and hasn't returned. I'm flummoxed but relieved! I think the doctor was flummoxed, too. He called it a stomach virus, gave me a prescription for nausea medicine (which I didn't and still don't need) and released me to my dear friends Mary Kay and Joe. (I couldn't drive myself home because of the morphine.)

Also on the up side, these random May afflictions remind me to not take my health for granted... or anything for granted, really, because things can change in a split second, can't they? So maybe May is just being a good friend, keeping me humble and on my toes. And grateful when things go right.

After all, a month that celebrates mothers, welcomed my husband into the world, and gives us beautiful flowers can't be too bad, can it?

(I'll still be glad when June arrives.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ten Years Ago...

He noticed it when he used the rowing machine at the gym where he worked. A consistent pain or pressure that would start up after a few minutes and go away when he stopped rowing. Perhaps a pulled muscle? He was in the middle of building our new home, after all, and stretching and working those muscles to their limit.

But when the pain popped up again while working on the car one April morning ten years ago, he decided he should have it looked into. He'd read enough about heart attacks to hear that tiny warning voice whispering in his ear.

Our doctor's office said don't bother coming in, call an ambulance and get to the hospital right away.

We didn't call an ambulance. By then the pain had gone away, so we took time to shower and eat lunch before heading out the door. We had enough experience with hospitals to know we'd be there awhile. 

After hours and hours and test after test - he passed the stress test with flying colors - they declared his heart fine and sent us home. But come see me in two weeks, the cardiologist told him.

He did, and he told her how he could get that feeling back in his chest after just so many minutes on that rowing machine even though running on the treadmill did nothing.

So she scheduled an arteriogram which revealed an artery in the circumflex was 95% blocked, in a spot that doesn't show up on EKGs and stress tests. 

They popped in a stent and two days later he was back at work.

Thank you, God, for good cardiologists and modern medicine and stubborn husbands who listen to their bodies and aren't afraid to speak up.

Thank you, God, for these past ten years with my sweet husband. I pray we have at least ten more, but just in case, I'll try my best not to take a single one of them for granted.

Happy Anniversary, Tom!! Thank you for taking care of yourself!

 

"Lullaby" (Dixie Chicks)

They didn't have you where I come from
Never knew the best was yet to come
Life began when I saw your face
And I hear your laugh like a serenade

How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough, is forever enough
How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough
Cause I'm never, never giving you up

I slip in bed when you're asleep
To hold you close and feel your breath on me
Tomorrow there'll be so much to do
So tonight I'll drift in a dream with you

How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough, is forever enough
How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough
Cause I'm never, never giving you up

As you wander through this troubled world
In search of all things beautiful
You can close your eyes when you're miles away
And hear my voice like a serenade

How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough, is forever enough
How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough
Cause I'm never, never giving you up

How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough, is forever enough
How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough
Cause I'm never, never giving you up
Is forever enough
Cause I'm never, never giving you up

 

The Great U2 Mystery

Yesterday morning, I was all set to listen to U2 while I ran on the treadmill. I've kept their Achtung, Baby! down there for several years for when the U2 running mood hits me. (I also keep some Ted Nugent, John Mellencamp, and Dixie Chicks handy - my running moods are pretty eclectic!)

(It's kind of funny... I didn't appreciate U2 until I approached my fifties. That seems so strange to me because I love their music now... to me, it's so passionate and energizing.) 

Anyway, that's what I needed yesterday morning, but when I opened the case, it was empty!

I searched through the loose cds piled on the shelf - no luck. I looked through the other cds upstairs. No luck. 

I scratched my head. Why did my U2 cds keep disappearing?  My absolute favorite one - The Best of 1990-2000 - went missing years ago. I keep the case, still hoping it will turn up someday, maybe under a couch cushion or someone's bed, perhaps. 

But now Achtung, too? What was going on? Was this some personal vendetta against me and U2?

I called Tom, texted all of my kids, in hopes that someone saw something, spotted it somewhere, remembered removing it from the player...

No luck.

Thank goodness I still had Joshua Tree to appease my U2 running mood, but the whole time I ran I wondered about Achtung and the great U2 CD Mystery...

When Tom came home later that evening, it only took him a couple of minutes to find it, of course. Show-off. Someone (possibly even me) had placed it in a clear cd case. It was sitting right there on the shelf near the others.

I would be mad at him if I wasn't so grateful. (Thank you, baby! Now can you find the other one?)

The Privilege of a Lifetime

"The privilege of a lifetime is to be yourself."

 ~ Joseph Campbell

 

A big pot of chicken soup is simmering on the stove. From where I sit across the room I can hear the little bubbles playing on the surface and the aroma is making my stomach growl.

I made it for myself, because I'm sick. I don't cook often these days, and when I do, it's usually to whip up some favorite of one of my kids or my husband, although he's gotten quite good at cooking whatever he wants himself.

You see, there are tons of other things I'd rather do with my time besides cook. That's just me, the way I am, and I'm okay with it. Thank goodness my husband is, too.

I thought about this as I chopped up vegetables for the soup earlier, because BlogHer's latest question for their Life Well Lived Getting Happy series is: How do you practice self-acceptance and find unconditional love for yourself? (Part 2 of the question is: How does practicing love first help you attract more love and happiness in your life?)

Well, not cooking if I don't feel like it is one way I practice self-acceptance.

I spent years trying on cooking and crafting and gardening and sewing, and while I enjoyed each one to a certain extent, none of them fit me exactly right. 

Today I'm cooking because I care about myself. I want to get well.

It took years to shed the 'Mommy-Martyr' mentality that made me think everyone else's needs were more important than my own. It's still a trick mirror though... one big incentive to take care of myself is so I can take care of those I love who depend on me. To be healthy if they need me or to just set a good example.

When I eat right, when I run, when I make sure I get enough sleep or play my drums or take time to read or write or take photos or laugh with friends or go dancing with my husband... it's for them as much as it is for myself.

 

Turning 50 was a huge turning point in my self-attitude, like standing before a mirror, evaluating where I'd been, where I still wanted to go and whether or not I was heading in the right direction to get there. Trying to figure out what fit and what should be tossed. I was able to recognize and appreciate the strengths that got me this far, as well as the quirks that make me unique.

Love your neighbor as yourself. ~ Mark 12:31

I forgave myself mistakes made along the way, accepted myself as human, flaws and all, and by doing so, discovered how easy it is to do the same for other people. The key to loving your imperfect neighbor "as yourself" is first loving your imperfect self.

How do you start? Ponder this...

 Where there is no love, put love and there will be love.

~ St. John of the Cross

 

 

So how do you practice self-acceptance and find unconditional love for yourself?

And how does practicing love first help you attract more love and happiness in your life?

Leave your answer here, but also at the main post on BlogHer where you can see other answers. And be sure to enter the sweepstakes for a chance at a Kindle Fire and $50 Amazon Gift Card HERE.

"We interrupt our regularly scheduled program..."

 

 

 

Just when I saw a glimpse of light at the end of my "to-do tunnel", someone had the gall to iron all of the energy out of my body and replace it with mucus.

"Life is a series of surprises, and would not be worth keeping if it were not."

~Ralph Waldo Emerson

I agree with Emerson, but this is the kind of surprise I could do without.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be going back to bed.

(Thanks for listening. I left my five bucks by the door.)

 

Under Attack

It seemed like a good idea at the time, getting off the main road and taking the path along the creek for a bit on my morning walk.

The problem is that path is little more than a deer trail in many places, making it necessary to duck and zigzag around mountain cedar branches. 

Well, normally that by itself isn't a problem, but at this time of year, and right now in epic proportions, the branches of the male ashe juniper (aka cedar tree) is bursting with these little cones full of cedar pollen. It's not unusual to see a huge puff of smoke billow from a tree at the slightest touch of a breeze... not actually fire smoke, but a cloud of pollen. 

It didn't even occur to me that when you walk through them and knock them out of your way, the pollen clings to you as if you were an oversized bumble bee.

Consequently, a few hours later when my allergy meds had worn off, the pollen hitching a ride on me went into full attack mode on my nose, throat and eyes.

But in the height of my sneezing and clawing of itchy eyes, I was grateful for one thing. Well, one thing besides my stockpile of antihistamines and nose sprays and eye drops...

 

...that during my walk, when the thought occurred to me that if knocked one of the branches hard with a stick, I might finally be able to capture one of those billowing pollen clouds in my camera, right up close, I immediately tossed that thought away, realizing the suicidal potential of such a stunt.

I'm relieved to know that, even for me, a photograph isn't worth "Death by Stupidity and Pollen".

(For more about the mountain cedars, click HERE and HERE.)

Returning to Me

With the birth of my first child, my ego, dreams, and most other aspects of Me as I knew Me sloughed off like a snake skin, forgotten. I was a Mother now! That tiny little being depended on me and by golly, that's all that mattered.

Within a few years, I had two more little beings depending on me. Throughout my thirties and most of my forties, I was just Mom. Busy, practical and unselfish.

Oh, I toyed with my old dreams. Took a few classes at the community college. Had some essays published. Met my girlfriends for dinner and a movie every once in a while. Worked some part-time jobs.

For years I held onto enough ego to battle my body over the same 15 pounds, but when semi-daily walks with my dogs, periodic lifting of light weights and eating healthy-ish didn't make a difference, I finally gave up and accepted my body as it was.

I was way too mature and sensible to care that the varicose veins on my right leg were so bad a new friend asked if I'd been in a car wreck, thinking they were horrible scars. I cringed a bit myself when I looked at them, but I hated to be so vain and selfish as to undergo the pain and expense of surgery. There were so many other things we needed.

Then my oldest son left for college.

Oh, my heart ached! For days I would suddenly burst into tears over the pain; it hurt so badly! One day I realized my tears weren't falling just because I missed my son; that's what triggered them, but my tears fell because I could suddenly feel Life, as I knew it, changing. Soon, my two youngest would follow their big brother out of the nest.

I would always be a mother, but I knew the end of my days as Mom was just a few years away. It made me feel...old. And I wondered, if I'm not Mom anymore, what will I be? Who will I be?

Some might call what happened next a case of the MidLife Crazies. I just call it Returning to Me.

You can be anything you want to be. I had told my kids that over and over because I believed it, and now was my chance to act on it. I would be Me. The best Me possible, for as long as possible. I wasn't ready to be old.

I took bits from each of my previous selves: the spoiled youngest child, the tomboy, the homecoming queen, the scholar, the thinker, the independent woman, the dancer, the newlywed, the mother, the daughter, friend, the volunteer, the writer, the photographer, and even, thanks to my husband, the wanna-be drummer.

Dusting off my dreams, I signed up for college classes, one per semester. Over the next few years, I started a blog and began teaching myself digital photography. I wrote a screenplay, polished up one book, and started another.

I reconnected with friends, other women who were going through the same changes I was experiencing, including friends I'd known since childhood, before any of us were wives or mothers. They helped me rediscover the Me I was back then.

I made my own health a priority, scheduling time every day for a workout. I began running again for the first time in years. Part of my motivation was ego, I admit, but I knew others still depended on me; I needed to be in the best shape possible so I could take care of them. Heart disease runs in my family. I wanted to be a good example to my kids, who carry the same genes.

My hair was thinning at an alarming rate, so I educated myself about nutrition and made huge changes in my diet. It didn't have any affect on my hair, but between those changes and my stepped-up physical work-outs, I finally dropped those 15 pounds I'd given up on. What a great surprise!

With my ego fully out of the closet, I treated myself to varicose vein surgery for my 47th birthday, deciding I was too young to wear nothing but ankle-length dresses the rest of my life.

All of these changes acted as defensive armor just in the nick of time, preparing me for the assault of menopause. I've experienced a few hot flashes, but not the mood swings, weight gain, severe sweats, or disrupted sleep some of my friends complain about.

My kids have all flown the nest now; but instead of crying, I feel like I'm flying with them.

The people at Pfizer are interested in helping all of us find our wings and keep flying through these strange, trying, wonderful midlife years and hope to accomplish that through their "Return to You" program, a program aimed at helping women return to their best selves.

Have YOU had a Return to You moment? Please share it with me in the comments; I'd love to hear your story!

Visit the Pfizer Return to You page on BlogHer.com for more blogger stories and prepare to be inspired!

Hair, or the lack thereof

Not wanting to be seen by anyone I knew, I ducked into a store quite a distance from our house, heading straight for the product I sought. I had been eyeing it for years, but until this moment, couldn't rouse the courage to actually buy it. 

Tucking the box under my arm so the name wasn't obvious, I grabbed a few more items to further hide it and headed to check-out, trying to act nonchalant about my purchase...

Tom was cutting my hair. He would touch a section with scissors and then pull back, comb another section, let it fall. I sensed his frustration. "What is it?"

"Your hair just keeps getting thinner and thinner! But don't worry," he added, seeing the forlorn look on my face, "I'll love you and think you're beautiful even if you're completely bald." 

Sigh.

My grandmother wore her hair short, in soft curls maintained with regular perms and a nightly hair-rolling ritual. When she combed the curls out, spreading them across her scalp, it helped disguise the fact that she was slowly but surely going bald.

The illusion of thickness. That's what it's all about when you're dealt thin, and thinner-by-the-minute, hair. 

I always had baby fine hair, but didn't realize I'd inherited Grandmother's thinning-hair gene until ten years ago or so. I wish I'd inherited her ample bosom, or at least her gardening and sewing skills, along with it.

As my hair continued to thin - and to require shorter and shorter cuts - I began researching the problem, refusing to just give in and start wearing my hair in Grandmother's curls.

I tried an internal solution... eating healthier (lots of Omega 3), exercising (increased circulation to the scalp) and adding supplements like Flaxseed Oil, Vitamin E and Biotin that were rumored to help. I ultimately dropped 15 pounds I had given up on losing, but didn't notice a change in my hair at all.

I voiced my concerns to my doctor. At my request, he checked my thyroid function (twice!) but everything was normal. He just blamed menopause - I was in the beginning phases of peri-menopause at the time.

I'm sure menopause is a big factor, but the thing is, I remember way back when I was pregnant and taking prenatal vitamins that I never got the noticeable hair and nail growth most women experience. I suspected there was something blocking the absorption of whatever made them grow, but had no idea how to find out what it was.

Hitting that dead end, I focused instead on the illusion of thickness. I refused to perm my hair or roll it up each night on tiny rollers like Grandmother, but through my research discovered other tricks, like

1) Getting highlights in three slightly different tones for the illusion of depth

2) A "modified bob" cut with just the right amount of layers. Too many and it lies flat. Too few and, well, it lies flat.

3) An angled side part, so at least you don't have to see how wide it's getting and how much scalp is showing.

4) Tucking it behind your ears (unless you're skilled with a round brush and a can of hairspray, which I'm not.)

5) Volumizers and products made specifically for thin hair

I found a hairstylist who understood thin hair, but he didn't come cheap. Feeling guilty over the expense, I "broke up" with him and played the field for a year or so with other talented hairdressers, but could never find another one who just knew what to do with my hair.

So I've returned to Michael. I'll cut corners with cheap makeup and thrift store clothing... perhaps sell one of my children... but I'm going to stick with him as long as possible.

Just kidding about the children, of course.

Ah, vanity. Some people fight aging with Botox injections, breast implants or tummy tucks. I can ignore my wrinkles, can live with my small breasts and my "mommy" roll - the pain and expense of surgery just aren't worth it for me. But I'd prefer not to see my scalp when I look in the mirror.

My friend Ann called a few weeks ago to tell me about a shop in Galveston that has beautiful wigs. She knows I expect to get one eventually. Ann has luscious thick hair. I know it annoys her when I voice envy, but she tolerates it, reminding me how thick hair presents its own problems, like taking forever to dry. I believe she'd share hers with me if she could.

But a wig is a last resort. Just thinking of wearing one makes my head feel hot and itchy. I don't want to give in without grabbing every last straw and that's why I visited an internist yesterday. She discovered my gynecologist didn't run a full thyroid test, so she ordered one plus some other blood tests.   

Turns out, they're all normal. I'm grateful to be healthy, of course, but it means whatever is causing my hair to thin will remain a mystery. It could simply be genetics; it could be working thirteen years in a hard hat; it could be three pregnancies, medications I've taken, or just menopause. It could be all of them or none of them, as far as anyone knows, it seems.

I guess next time I visit Ann in Galveston, I'll run over to that wig shop and have a look. Maybe try some on. I wonder if they have any that are highlighted in three tones of blonde, cut in a modified bob and styled behind the ears? No long flowing manes for me - when and if the time comes, I don't think I want anyone to know and that would be a dead giveaway. 

Well, maybe one long blonde one, just for fun. Because blabbermouth that I am, I'll tell everyone I'm wearing a wig anyway.

In the meantime, I'm following one of the internist's suggestions...

Not wanting to be seen by anyone I knew, I ducked into a store quite a distance from our house, heading straight for the product I sought. I had been eyeing it for years, but until this moment, couldn't rouse the courage to actually buy it. 

Did you guess? I'm trying Rogaine.

Oh, I hate to even say it. It feels like I'm in one of those before and after commercials with the men smiling into a mirror, admiring themselves. It sounds so desperate and last resort-ish.

But between yesterday and today I decided, why the heck should I be ashamed or try to hide it? I am desperate. I am down to last resorts. And obviously there are other desperate women trying to figure out what to do about their own thinning hair so I might as well share my experience and perhaps help someone else. I only wish I'd started it sooner. 

I know I'll never have hair like Ann's (I never did!) but this should at least stop the thinning and perhaps even help a little grow back.

Wish me luck and I'll keep you posted!

(If you have thinning hair, share your success and failure stories with me. I'm still open to suggestions!)

Tenacity

"Take care of your body. It’s the only place you have to live."

~JIm Rohn
American motivational speaker, 20th century

 

I didn't feel like running yesterday morning. Too many things to do before work and not enough sleep the night before. Skipping one day won't matter...

I ignored that voice. It's true my world doesn't stop turning if I skip one morning workout - there are some days I actually don't have time - and on those days I forgive myself and just get back to it the next day.

But yesterday, I knew I had time.  So I agreed to a compromise: I could stop after two miles, and if I felt like walking a little, that was okay. But I had to go at least two miles. No negotiation on that point.

(I've learned the key is tricking myself - I knew once I started, I'd feel much better and keep going. I fall for it every time!)

Sure enough, within the first few seconds, I felt pretty good. Instead of increasing my speed every five minutes like I normally do, I revved it up a notch every four. And at the two mile mark, I didn't even consider stopping.

You've probably already guess that I run on a treadmill. Our road is caliche, a combination of big rocks and gravel. It only took one skinned knee and where-the-heck-did-that-rock-come-from-did-I-break-anything? incident to convince me to move indoors. 

Anyway, yesterday morning I thought I couldn't run at all and ended up completing three miles in 31 minutes 

You might not think that's great, especially you runners out there. But when I remember all the times I couldn't run because of my asthma - all the medicine I've taken, all the trips to the emergency room, that whole winter semester of tennis in 8th grade when Ms. Clark wouldn't even let me go outside with the rest of the class because she feared the cold would trigger an asthma attack and I had to practice volleying against the wall alone all period - well, I think running three miles in 31 minutes at 52 years old is pretty damn good.

I started running in high school. Not the kind you do as a kid, for fun, but the kind you don't really want to do but do anyway because you know it's good for you.

Or because, like me, you want to lose weight. (I had to take a lot of prednisone for my asthma - and if you've taken prednisone, you know it makes you crave cheesecake! And Doritos and Roadrunner steak sandwiches and Wendy's Frosties...)

My asthma flared at first , but before too long, I stopped needing my inhaler. As much, anyway.

I didn't actually run-run. I wasn't on the track team or anything. I just ran-jogged around my half-mile block every morning before school. Afterwards, I'd jump rope for a few minutes, and finish up with some sit-ups and stretches.

But then during my first semester in college, thinking of myself as a runner, I signed up for "Aerobics" (Dr. Cooper's version, not Dance.) We learned all about cardiovascular fitness and kept track of our "daily aerobic points", aiming at a minimum of 40 each day.(Cooper's book, Aerobics, assigned points for different activities, depending on their aerobic benefit.)

At intervals during the semester, we took timed 1 1/2 mile runs around the top of the University of Houston's Hofheinz Pavilion to measure our progress. 

Despite all those half-mile morning jogs leading up to my first timed 1 1/2 mile circuit, I thought I would die before I finished. I couldn't even run the whole way, but had to stop and walk a few times! I finished in something like 15 minutes and 20 seconds.

How humbling and eye-opening.

Fast forward through a semester of night runs and jump rope sessions. I'm running my last 1 1/2 miles around the top of Hofheinz Pavilion. I'm kind of nervous, but this time I'm able to keep running, running, running the whole way, finishing in 12 minutes and 40 seconds.

I know from TG's high school cross-country meets that for an 18-year-old, this still isn't a great time, but it was almost three minutes faster than two months before! High-five!

Okay, and I know I'll never be able to run 1 1/2 miles in less than 13 minutes again, but I did finish it in 15 minutes and 45 seconds one morning recently... and then kept on running for another 1 1/2 miles. Another high-five!

 

“Fitness is a journey, not a destination. It must be continued for the rest of your life.”

- Dr. Kenneth Cooper

I continued running after that semester, working up to 3 miles. But one night I didn't have time to run 3 miles. I didn't want to run less, so I just didn't run at all. (How's that for logic??)

Before I knew it, weeks of no running had passed. I dropped out of school, started working shiftwork, got married, had babies. 

Every once in awhile during those next few years, I'd lace up my shoes and try running again, or bicycling, or swimming. Then I'd reach a point I couldn't or wouldn't maintain, or something else in my life would take precedence.

Until four years ago, when I realized what a terrible friend I had been to someone who depended solely on me: My body.

I walked with the dogs in the mornings, but otherwise put my own health last on my priority list, behind the people I loved - ironically, the very ones who depended on me to take care of them, who needed me to be healthy, who I wanted to be healthy! And just look at the example I'd been giving them! 

Instead of being selfish, I realized taking care of myself was actually a way to show my love to those who depended on me! And that's what keeps me going every morning now, even more than the desire to fit into my favorite jeans or be able to go out dancing or whatever else I want to do in the time I have left on this earth. 

Although those are pretty good motivators, I admit.

Because there are so many dreams I'm still working on as time allows. My writing, my photography, my college degree ...even playing my drums, although I have no illusion of ever really being good. But I intend to keep playing them as long as I can hold those drumsticks.

I also run out of gratitude, with every step giving thanks for my legs, my lungs, my heart. Gifts we too often take for granted or even abuse, like spoiled children with expensive toys. I run for my friends and family who can't.

When I started running again, I cut myself some slack - I didn't want to hurt myself! But I was still firm and refused to let myself quit. I'm in it for the long run, literally. And that determination flows over into the other areas of my life.

I just wish I'd had this much determination and flexibility when I was 18 - this vision of the "long run," of ebb-and-flow-but-don't-stop. Time isn't gracious. Over the years, just as I found a rhythm, making progress on one dream or another, something would pop up and I'd have to set it on a shelf. I gave up way too fast. But at least I have it now, this bullheadedness. This tenacity.

 As long as I'm breathing, my dreams won't stay long on the shelf. 

And I'll keep lacing up my shoes.

"Anything is possible.

You can be told that you have a 90-percent chance or a 50-percent chance or a 1-percent chance, but you have to believe, and you have to fight."

 
~Lance Armstrong

Face in the Mirror

Face in the mirror

You are the face I recognize, the face I know, the face I greet each morning,

Yes, the face I love, despite the lines and scars and spots.

You and I have traveled together, collected mementoes of Life.

Your eye-crinkles and mouth-creases... reminders of laughter and reasons to smile.

Deep lines between your brows... etched during late nights worrying about the kids.

Tiny scars on your forehead... souvenirs of chicken pox at 10 and 30, and shingles at 50.

Dark spots... kisses of Galveston sunshine.

Remember?

I do.

My life. 

My face.

 

This morning, the face staring back at me in the mirror sported a few pimples amidst her wrinkles, scars and spots. That's not really fair, is it?

My grandmother swore by Oil of Olay. She had beautiful skin. I don't remember her ever having any pimples, but the one time I tried the lotion, my face broke out something awful. Now I'm afraid of anything labeled "Oil of Olay"!

My mother has beautiful skin, too. She used the Clinique ritual for awhile - I tried it, but I think it was just too much work for me. It probably broke me out, too.

I remember lots of pimples back then, when I was a teenager. I tried everything. No luck.

Until finally, I asked our family doctor what to do. "Stop putting all that crap on your face," he told me. "Just use Ivory soap and be done with it."

He was right. Ivory soap worked! Until a few years ago when I noticed my cheeks felt like sandpaper.

Dang menopause.

Obviously, I needed a moisturizer, but I was scared, remembering the Oil of Olay situation as well as one experiment with an eye cream, guaranteed to "minimize the appearance of fine lines" - it actually poofed up the skin around my eyes. I looked like I'd been stung by a bee! That's how it got rid of the lines!

I'd rather have the lines.

The key words to watch for (I realized afterwards) were  "the appearance of"... Very important! 

Even with this in mind, I eventually succumbed to advertisements for L'Oreal's Revitalift products. I'm happy to report that my face didn't break out and my eyes didn't poof up like marshmallows. In fact, nothing much happened except my cheeks no longer felt like sandpaper. 

In other words, I still have my wrinkles, but that's okay. I'll do what I can to keep from accumulating more, but I earned the ones I have. They're me. 

I don't think I'll ever be bothered enough by my wrinkles to try Botox or surgery (I don't like pain)... but I have friends who've delved into those treatments, so I'm not passing judgement. 

So imagine my surprise one day last week when I looked in the mirror and noticed the lines between my brows were missing. Where did my furrows go?

The only thing I could attribute it to was three nights in a row of solid 7+ hours of sleep. Who could have guessed? Sleep - truly the best anti-aging tool we have, and it's free! But how many of us take advantage of it? I know I don't!

For instance, here I am typing at the computer way past my bedtime.

Furrows and dark circles are guaranteed for tomorrow! (I just hope the pimples are gone.)

But what about you? If you have a face you've grown old with, do you love it? Hate it? What do you do to take care of it?

 

 

 

 

Osteo-what?

A few years ago, aware of menopause creeping ever closer, eager to rob me of bone mass and play all its other little tricks on me, I moved nutrition and exercise higher on my priority list.

The Real Age test revealed what I was missing nutrition-wise. I signed up for every health/hair/exercise/nutrition- related e-newsletter I could find, added vitamins to my morning arsenol, increased colorful, raw fruits and vegetables, watched portion sizes and cut back on fat, salt, sugar and anything processed or unpronounceable.

I was already working out, but I extended my cardio workouts because I have damaged lungs from asthma and one of those heart disease genes (and also the tiniest hope that increased circulation to my scalp would whip my lazy hair follicles back in shape.)

(No luck on that point so far.)

To build up bone mass, I increased the amount of free weight I lifted - gradually so I didn't pull anything and set myself back - popped Tums like candy and increased my Vitamin D. 

I did everything on that checklist, but still, following my latest bone density scan, the phone rang...

"Mrs. Shallue, you have slight osteopenia in the top bone of your left hip."

Huh? What? My bones? No way - I've never even broken anything!

"Nothing to worry about - it's very slight."

The nurse went down the "prevent and improve" checklist, but I was already doing everything and have been doing everything for years... even before my last bone density scan which was normal. How the heck did this happen?

The only suggestion she had for me: Increase my Vitamin D. My blood test revealed it was on the low end of normal; I had plenty of wiggle room to double what I was already taking.

So Women out there, listen up... Make sure you're taking your calcium and your Vitamin D. Grab those free weights and build those bones so they'll be strong enough to carry you for a long, long time. If you're over 50 and you haven't already done so, go get a bone density scan and have someone check your Vitamin D levels. And (gulp) say NO to that second third <sigh> okay, that second glass of wine. Or second margarita. Or second scotch and water.

For my part, I've increased my D and decreased my W so that I can still be dancing twenty years from now. I really, really want you to join me on the dance floor.

So get moving!

 

 

 

 

Spring Fever Frenzy and Sweet! #1

Frenzy is my word of the week, (where's my copy of Pearl Jam's song Just Breathe?) so please forgive me if this post seems a little harried and unorganized. If it jumps around a bit, it's just a reflection of my life right now, hopscotching from one project to the next in haphazard order.

Tom and I have two Major Events coming up this month - another Shake Russell home concert and Daniel's graduation - just the kind of matches we need to light fires under our butts and get us moving on projects we should have tackled months ago.

Why, oh why do we procrastinate?

You would be amazed by how much Tom and I can ignore around our house - he always has half a dozen projects in various stages going on simultaneously and after almost 30 years together, I've learned to ignore random tools and pieces of equipment left lying in odd places. 

One reason I ignore it all is because, if he dares say anything about my own piles of unorganized junk or projects-in-progress, I have ammunition. We've learned to be very accepting of each other's idiosyncrasies.

When Major Events appear on the calendar, though, that helps us see our home from a visitor's point of view and YIKES, our priorities shift. I haven't even gotten to the 'cleaning' part - for some reason, I've got it in my head I need to sort through boxes, clean up my office-to-be, my closet, cabinets... 

It's not that I think anyone will care, but I have to use this rare fever while I have it.

So, what I didn't do this past weekend: 

• Work on my book.
• Dance, play ping-pong or my drums.
• Load Photoshop Elements on my computer. (I'm hesitating because, from experience with my computer, I know it won't be as easy as clicking a few buttons. I need a chunk of time to work on this.)
• Finalize the name for my new venture. If I get any chunks of time, this is what I've been spending them on. Even though I work for a naming company, I had no idea it would take me this long to pick one. I'm really afraid I'm overthinking it. I've narrowed it down to three, though, and now have to figure out how to register it. There are so many things involved in starting a business - yikes!
• Attend my friend Jacque's college graduation Saturday morning. I fully intended to - I got up early, showered, dressed and was ready to head out the door, but stopped to double check directions to where I thought it was being held Turns out, it was on a totally different highway than she told me in her graduation-eve excitement, much farther than I realized. I should have googled it the night before and gotten up earlier. There was no way I could make it there in time.

What I did accomplish, outside of the normal routine:

• Unloaded a ton of stuff at Goodwill. I was going to stop after the graduation ceremony, anyway. Tom and I had already loaded up my car with bags and boxes of things to donate.
• Treated myself to a pedicure and manicure. Unusual for someone in a frenzy, I know, but the salon is next door to Goodwill. I'm 52, but I can count the number of pedicures I've had in my life on one hand - I think this was number 5 - and this was only the second manicure I've ever had. The other one was part of a spa day gift from Tom in honor of my 30th birthday. (What is wrong with me?)
• Promised myself I won't wait another year for a pedicure, or another 22 years for a manicure.
• Made a few baby steps of progress on starting my business. No, I didn't finalize the name, but I made progress. That's what I have to focus on.
• Sorted through several boxes of stuff and weeded out more stuff to give away. I'm a hoarder collector, but I'm started to have pity on my kids when they have to go through my things later. (Of course, if Tom's still around, it'll be easy on them. He'll just dump it all or burn it.)
• Paid bills and made a dent in the laundry. (No explanation needed here - these things never wait patiently.) 

Tom spent most of Saturday on a Habitat-for-Humanity type project. It's not HFH, but a similar program his company partners with a few times a year. He loves using his carpentry skills to help people.

On his way home he picked up a new (to us) elliptical trainer and stationary bike he found on Craig's List. We have our own little gym again, for less than the cost of a gym membership. Yay, Tom! 

He's putting his Craig's List truck to good use!

On the Today Show this week, I found out about something that apparently everyone else already knows about - 1000 Awesome Things.

How did I miss this? Especially as a blogger? (If you, like me, have had your head in the ground lately and haven't heard about this, click on that link above and take a look - but then come back!)

Actually, what I want to know, is why didn't I think of this myself?

Even though I didn't, I'm going to blatantly steal borrow Neil Pasricha's premise and start looking on the bright side of things every day. Considering my current frenzied state, I think it will do me some good.

I also want to set a good example for my kids and prove to them that no matter how bad things get in a day, it's possible to find one little "sweet!" moment. I honestly believe that.

I apologize in advance because this means I might have two posts in a single day right here on Long Hollow, plus another one on Confessions. I forgive you if you don't always read them or comment, but I would like to hear about your "sweet!" moments too, if you have the time to share them. From here on out, I'll write them as separate posts and keep them in the Sweet! category so I can go back and remember little rays of sunshine on those dark days.

 So here we go with Sweet #1 (drumroll please)...

... Getting an email from my son just to say he loves me - and to tell me he has no cavities. When your grown children take charge of their lives, it can be so hard to let go, especially in those health care areas. After years of intensive, organized, methodical mothering and worrying over their health - doctor and dentist check-ups, prescriptions, etc. - you watch them fly out of the nest to other regions with unknown doctors and dentists and you can only pray they continue to take care of themselves. 

It took the suspicion of a cavity, but he did it. Sweet!

 

 

 

Dang it! I'm a couch potato after all! Are you?

 

Despite sweating at least an hour almost every day, running, jumping rope, lifting free weights, stretching  ... despite trying to strengthen my heart, lungs, bones and maintain my flexibility in my fight against the villainous side effects of menopause ... I found out I'm losing anyway, because the rest of the day I sit on my bohunkus in front of a computer.

And when I say "the rest of the day", I really mean the rest of the day.

For my steady-paycheck job, I sit in front of a computer for hours and hours. And after clocking out, I settle in again in front of the screen to write, edit photography, check emails, pay bills....

My life revolves around sitting in front of the computer.

And now I find out it's killing me!

In an article for Men's Life, Maria Masters says I could even be labeled a couch potato by some doctors: "New evidence suggests, in fact, that the more hours a day you sit, the greater your likelihood of dying an earlier death regardless of how much you exercise or how lean you are." 

But hallelujah, there's something I can do about it without quitting my desk job(s) and trying to find one as a bicycle messenger or fire fighter or lumberjack.

Apparently, just taking small breaks helps counter the effects ...  even little things like standing up when I'm on the phone can help. The important thing is to get up and do something at least every hour.

It's not as easy as it sounds, though, at least not for me. It's like I'm under a spell, frozen to my chair, and it's a major effort to unfold myself, even to go to the bathroom! My husband says he falls under the same spell at work.

But I'm not sweating every morning just to have all the benefits evaporate because of an otherwise sedentary lifestyle. Now I keep an eye on that little computer clock. Every hour I stand up, face the window, jog in place, do some stretches, and every two hours or so I head outside for a brisk two-minute walk. My legs are so grateful for that stretch! And getting outside in the fresh air is a wonderful mental break, as well.  Better than a fourth (or is it my fifth?) cup of coffee. 

So if you're like me, stuck behind a computer screen ALL DAY LONG, get up and get moving for your health's sake! If I haven't convinced you, be sure to read the article yourself (click HERE) as well as THIS ONE.

Because I care about you and want you to stick around for a long, long time. 

Zippity-Do-Dah (my birthday, part 1)

I wanted to be Tarzan when I was little.

I'd sit in the livingroom on Saturday afternoons watching Johnny Weismuller swing from tree to tree on those vines, and then poof! I was in that jungle myself, way up in a tree, grabbing hold of a vine and swinging high above the ground to the next limb. A green blur surrounded me and the wind whistled in my ear...

And then there were the dreams of flying through my neighborhood - not too high, not too fast, just soaring above the treetops.

Well, imagine a combination of the two, and that's what riding the zipline felt like to me yesterday; there was that stepping off into nothing feeling and that swinging feeling (holding onto a lanyard instead of a vine) and that soaring feeling as I glided above the treetops.

I confess I was a little nervous at first. Thank goodness they make you zip on a practice line before they let you go hundreds of feet in the air, because I failed and had to do it again.

Sure, I looked like I knew what I was doing...

...but when it was time to brake, even though I knew I was supposed to press down flathanded on the cable behind me, I clamped down instead, gripping it, and that's a big NO-NO! If I did that up on the real zipline, going 30 mph, my arm would be ripped out and left dangling from the cable, or fall to the ground to be some coyote or vulture's dinner...

Ugh.

Lesson learned. I didn't forget again! (Classroom humiliation really works! That's also how I learned to read the word "something" in first grade, but that's another story...)

Okay, I'm getting ahead of myself...

My wonderful birthday-day started by sleeping beyond sunrise. Yes, I took the day off from work. What better reason could there be but to celebrate life, or more specifically, celebrate another year of your life? Tom took it off, too, just to make me happy.

Then there was coffee - not just any coffee, but some freshly brewed Texas Pecan that my friend Bo sent me. It was leftover from their coffee house that unfortunately couldn't compete with a nearby Starbucks. I was so bummed when I heard it was closing before I even had a chance to visit, so he offered a bit of his leftover "stock" - coincidentally, it arrived just before my birthday!

While I fed the dogs and sipped on my cup of Texas Pecan on the back deck, Tom whipped up a delicious heart-attack breakfast of fried eggs and sausage. Yum!

Thus fortified, we headed off to to Wimberley Zipline Adventures, almost two hours away, where we were issued our helmets, harnesses, lanyards, pulleys, water bottles and "brakes" (leather gloves) and sent over to the practice line, where I failed. 

Okay, I'm all caught up.

After we all (finally) passed the practice zipline, we piled into four-wheel drive trucks for a trip up the hill. Then on foot we climbed and climbed and climbed up to the first platform. You start at the highest spot, of course, then criss-cross the valley/ravine along 8 different lines almost to the bottom.

In between, our guide Andrew filled us in on local history and information on native plants that we didn't know (his great-grandfather was Buck Winn, an artist who bought the property back in the 1930's and pretty much established Wimberley as an artist colony.) 

I'll explain the rest through photos...

This is taking off (it isn't me, but you get the idea.)

This is me...

Notice the look of concentration as I press the cable flat-handed... "Don't grip! Don't grip!"

Ah, good job, Barbara.

Tom's turn. He's a natural. (show-off!)

He was coming in fast!

We had to take a few posed shots...

Just some random shots to give you an idea of what the heck we were doing!

Look, I'm smiling now! Nothin' to it...

This is FUN!

One of our great guides, Andrew (all of them were wonderful and made it a lot of fun!)

So guess what we did next?

The answer and more tomorrow in "Birthday, Part 2"!

(thanks to my friend Debbie for the idea of "Zippity" in the title, by the way!)

Intersections and Good Rules

Every intersection in the road of life is an opportunity to make a decision.

 ~ Duke Ellington

"So you decided to leave in the morning?" Tom asked when he arrived home from work yesterday evening and I was still sitting at the computer.

"I don't know! I'm still trying to decide!"

He rolled his eyes.

I was heading to my mom's to see my sister Brenda and help my parents move furniture and whatever else needed to be done to prepare for her release from the hospital in a few days. I hoped to stay long enough to help them with the transition from hospital to home care following her hip surgery, so didn't plan to head out until this morning. More time with Tom, less traffic plus daylight driving. A no-brainer.

And then my friend Mark's brother died. Trey's memorial/celebration of life was scheduled for last night. I wanted so bad to be there for him, but realized it would be early evening before I could even get away from my house, making for a late evening arrival, possibly hitting two cities' worth of Friday night traffic jams. Tom couldn't go with me, and of course, he had concerns about me driving that late at night, worried about me getting tired.

It really wasn't practical to go.  Mark had already told me he understood if I couldn't make it.

But still...

Then my oldest son called, telling me he might stop by the house on his way into town - he and his girlfriend are running the Capital 10K on Sunday, but they would be staying in South Austin. He probably wouldn't come by ... but he might, and that's usually all this mother's heart needs to stay put, just that slim chance of laying eyes on him for a moment.

But still ... 

... Mark and Trey had been like little brothers to me. I'd take them on picnics out to the San Jacinto Monument ... I'd take Trey to the skateboard park, and while he zipped around on the concrete hills, I'd wait in my car, reading. I'd invite Mark to tag along with me to Galveston, when his older brother Chris, my boyfriend, had better things to do. 

Even after Chris and I broke up, Tom and I kept in touch with Mark and Trey. They came to our engagement party with their mom ... we took Trey camping ... Mark brought his dad to our house in Lago Vista shortly before his death. Once or twice a year I'd get phone calls from both Mark and Chris.

The last time I saw Mark and Trey was at Chris's funeral several years ago.

Since then, they had also lost their mother. She and I had remained very close - I knew she'd want me to be there for Mark now.

What to do? What to do?

And then I read it ... one of the quotes I keep taped near my computer:

If we are ever in doubt about what to do,
it is a good rule to ask ourselves what we shall wish on the morrow that we had done.

~ John Lubbock

Within an hour I was packed and on the road.

I arrived at the gathering a little before 11pm; the look on Mark's face when he saw me, and the hug he gave me, would have erased any lingering doubts. But I didn't have any once my suitcase was out - I knew if I didn't go, it would be a gnat of regret, bugging me forever.

But there's more...

The memorial/celebration was just that, a celebration of life - mostly Mark's friends and high school classmates reminiscing, laughing, and even dancing, and then meeting at I-Hop for a late night/early morning breakfast.

So it was very, very late by the time I pulled into my parents' driveway. Their empty driveway. Huh? Where could they be? A flash of guilt leftover from high school crossed my mind - surely they weren't out looking for me!

I told them I didn't know what time I'd be in ... I have my own key and Mama said she'd just leave the light on for me ... I'll be 52 in a couple of weeks, for goodness' sake!

I checked my phone, tucked deep in my purse. Sure enough, there was a voice message from my mom...

"Don't worry when you see the empty driveway - Brenda had a bad reaction to Ambien and we had to go to the hospital to calm her down. She's okay, but where are you, little girl? You should be home by now!"

Always a mom. Sigh...

I let myself in and they arrived home a few minutes later. After hugs and a quick catch-up (Brenda had called them, saying there were strange people in her room and that she had been kidnapped!), we all said goodnight.

Early this morning, my phone rang. It was Brenda...

"Barbara, I'm being held captive."

Oh, crap.

"You're just having a reaction to Ambien, Brenda. Mama and Daddy were up there last night, remember? You're okay. You're in the hospital."

"No, that's just what these people told them. I don't know where they have me. I just wanted to tell you I love you and I'm sorry it came to this. I have to go."

Click.

Oh, crap. Oh, crap.

I tried calling her back and couldn't get through.

Oh, crap.

I threw on my clothes; I wasn't even going to take the time to shower ... I needed to get up there, fast. Mama was still asleep, worn out from the night's adventure. Daddy was worried about Brenda, but didn't want to leave Mama.

Before I could leave, she called again.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, I think, but I'll be better when family is here." She sounded so scared, so confused.

"I'm on my way."

Thank goodness, by the time I got there she was back to herself, and laughed about how it was a good thing she didn't know the numbers to the CIA or FBI (or Jack Bauer), or she would have called and reported her kidnapping to them, too!

And I thought, yeah, and it's a good thing I came in last night so I can be here for my sister this morning, and give my mom and dad a break.

No regrets.

(Update: Brenda has been released from the hospital several days earlier than expected. Maybe they were worried the FBI would be responding to a phone call or something... Nah, not really. She was just doing really good and now she's settled in here at my parents' house. Thanks to her church, she has a wheelchair, walker and potty chair to use until she's recovered. She has prescriptions for pain medicine, a blood thinner and antibiotics .. but no more Ambien! Please keep her and my parents in your prayers!)