Snow

Growing up in Alabama, we didn't have a lot of snow. Sure, we knew a lot about humidity, and red clay, and great big old frogs, and lots of rain. Heck, sometimes it felt like rain when it wasn't -- it was so humid.
The first snow I remember was so small that the grass still stuck through it. When Mama told us to bring in some clean snow to make "snow ice cream," we had to scrape it off the sliding board on our gym set in the back yard. She added some cream and sugar and we discovered that sweet treat. We built the best snow man possible with an inch of snow, and gladly ran in when Mama called us for cocoa.
Moving to Virginia as a young adult, I discovered the real pleasures of snow. On one occasion, we got 17 inches of snow -- that was a lot even for that area -- and the kids and I built a snow dragon in the front yard. He was about 4 feet long and had a scaled tail that curved around in front of him. It was great.
Now I'm a grandmother with a child in the house once again, and we are expecting snow today. Only 3 inches is expected, but, hey, it's snow. We have stacked logs on the front porch for a good fire. I've located mittens and boots to make for a quick run to The Pit for sledding, and have a pot of potato soup on the stove.
Now that I'm older, I've seen "real" snow and I have the snow plans down to a science.

No snow, however big, will ever be as exciting as that first snow in Alabama.

Oh-Bla-Dee, Oh-Bla-Doh

Ok. It's 25 degrees outside. We are {{still}} demolishing the kitchen. Lots of cold air blasting into the kitchen, and now . . .the furnace is out. Cool. !! no pun intended.
I am thankful for a big old warm (usually) house, plenty of food in the kitchen, health, and relative wealth. Relative to the world, that is. Why has God shone on me so? Thank you, God, for a good home, contentment, even happiness, being free to read whatever I want, ditto art, good family, good neighbors, good friends. Friends who love me even though I'm (to say the least) a bit quirky.
Helping at the Homeless Shelter really makes one realize his wealth . . .

Almost 50

Once you reach a certain age, you develop rules for your life -- they don't apply to anyone else, but they are guidelines with which you've developed a certain comfort level after living with yourself for a while. Well, that's how it goes for me, anyway.
Here is a sample of my rules for living.
1. I only shave my legs during Daylight Savings Time.
The winter months are colder and the thermal effect from NOT shaving keeps me warmer. Also, my legs are not as exposed in the winter as they are in the summer.
2. I don't eat sugar products during January.
My New Years' Resolutions are still bright, crisp and full of promise.
3. I take vitamins in January.
See #2.
4. I don't apologize for sending Thank You notes a month later.
Nobody sends Thank You notes anymore. I figure the recipient will just be glad to get one at all. Heck, I (finally) got it done, didn't I?
5. I'm perfectly comfortable sending Christmas cards in early January.
Somewhat related to #4,
6. When friends share their problems, I don't have to have an opinion or come up with a solution.
They really just want somebody to listen, and it's so much simpler not to have an opinion about everything. A relief, really.
7. Guests help clean up after dinner.
--Unless it's a really dress up affair, and we don't have really dress up affairs anymore. Helping in the kitchen makes people feel welcome and more at home.

Well, that's the list for now, have to scoot. More later.

Eating Crow

Didja ever meet someone who ab-so-loot-ly rubbed you the wrong way? I did, several years ago. She was domineering, opinionated, brazen, and self-important. I couldn't stand her. I thought there was something wrong with her -- that she had serious character flaws.
Turns out, once again, I was wrong. Really wrong. I believe, in some perverse way,
she
is
me.
Funny how, when you see yourself in a mirror, you think, "Nah, couldn't be me."
Wrong.
Add a few years, and some serious introspection on my part, (and, I should add, she's grown too,) and suddenly, the other person is okay. We get along. Matter of fact, I actually like her.
What changed in the few years? Did her serious imperfections mysteriously go away?
Not sure about this, but I believe my coming to peace with myself, has allowed me to accept other people. This is too complicated for me to communicate effectively; heck, maybe I don't really understand it myself. The other person hasn't changed, and basically, I'm still the same opinionated person myself.
There really is a plus to this aging thing -- I guess I've mellowed. :)

Rising out of the Fog

Driving Little One to school this morning, and she asked why the fog was all around the school but not at the school. I explained to her that the fog clings to low-lying places, and the school is on a hill.
Driving back home, I got to thinking about truisms for which that could be an analogy. Of course, when we rise up spiritually to a higher level of thinking, we rise out of the fog of confusion.
Then, I thought about the school itself, and how we could say that education elevates us out of the fog -- but then, W has a degree from Yale, so that shoots that theory down the tubes.

I should remark here, in case I look back on this some years later, that the weather is extremely weird. Here in NC, it's been 70 degrees for several days now. Los Angelos had snow last week, and is now bracing for a foot of rain. They never get rain. South Texas got snow this week and a guy has a Texas Snowball up for auction on E-Bay. I guess he's got it in the freezer, will ship it in dry ice? It really is crazy. They say the weather will be reversed at the end of the world, in which case, recording it here in a blog makes no difference either way.

Sky of Steel

Geez, it's a gray day. The temp has been running at 70+ for 3 or 4 days, very odd in January, even for NC. Today it's warmish, 55, and the sky is one solid color, a whitish-gray. It has drizzled off and on. The birds are quiet and even the squirrels are not playful. They are slinking out on their bellies as if to say, "I really didn't want to come out at all, but I just had to pick up a nut..."
The house is as clean as possible, considering that there's demolition going on. Fortunately hubby has decided NOT to saw bricks out of the kitchen wall (can you spell d-u-s-t?) and says it's getting time to wrap this thing up. Good idea. After 16 months the patience is wearing a little thin. :
A friend from church is coming for lunch today with her 4-year-old daughter, for whom we got a Christmas present. We are giving it to her late due to all our respective trips at Christmas time. I am making a banquet of peanut butter sandwiches, carrots and grape juice. Good china, multi-tiered platter, and good music on the cd player. Ought to be fun.
Two weeks til the Inauguration. spelling? hold on -- I'll look it up -- well, it's right. Didn't look right. They are POURING money into the festivities and Asia is a mess. So's Iraq and Afghanistan. Criminal. Seems to me, a President ought to have decent celebrations the FIRST time he's elected, and the second time, it ought to be a quiet ceremony. Wouldn't it be gallant of old W to say, "You know, we are basically in TWO wars now, the war on terror in Afghanistan and the war in Iraq, and the tsunamis devestated so much of Asia, I'd like to request that all monies that WOULD go into a big Inaugural event, be donated to the respective causes, and let's just get on with PEACE FOR A CHANGE. I'll swear in and there's no need for a big deal. "

********* WOULDN'T THAT BE NICE??? ****************

Living up to Promises

I just realized last night what a huge commitment I made, in my first blog entry, saying, "I have really creative thoughts every day and think, 'that ought to go in a journal,' -- ." Man, did I set myself up for failure, or what?

So today I am uniquely uninspired to be witty; I am just feeling so, so grateful for my life. Little one has returned to school and hubby has (finally) returned to work. I have the house to myself and I can clean/organize/walk the dog/have quiet time/write in blog without interruption, without having to be sure if anyone else needs anything, without having to give notice and/or explanation of why I need to do it! Rushing to say that no one much minds what I do when they are home, it's just the general physics of 3 bodies in one house, you have to cooperate with each other, and after two 'quality' weeks of together time, I must have been really ready NOT to cooperate with anyone, because I'm all alone and LOVING it.

I'm thankful for this crazy house, for our neurotic cats, and our overly affectionate dog. I'm thankful that it's 75 degrees outside in the middle of January. I'm thankful for all the cool things that are going on in our historic (that's NOT hysterical) neighborhood, and for all the cool people who work on our Board. I'm thankful that I don't have to work anymore. As a rule, there are always people who just don't get along and I'm sooo glad to be away from all the 'she said this,' and 'she did that' that women seem to get bound up in. Life is too short for all that crap.

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Thankful for very sweet and somewhat nutty hubby, glad he is nutty; I'd hate to be the only one. Thankful for Little One. Without her, our lives would be so different, so empty. Heck, we miss her when she spends the night out with a girlfriend.

Well, I guess today was Sappy Day. As I said, wasn't in the mood for Witty. I'll try to be extra-acerbic tomorrow.

Glenda Speaks

Well, I was jogging this morning and thinking about the prospect of calling this naturopathic doctor in another town (this town doesn't have any, heck, being a vegetarian around here is such an anomoly.)
Anyway, I was thinking about if I should call him. I mean, we are trying to cut costs and I'm spending over $100 a month on high blood pressure medicine and cholesterol medicine. (Go figure, Veggie on Cholesterol meds...) If I could line up with someone who could help me out herbally, something like, cut out dairy and eat broccoli twice a day, something, anything, to get OFF medicine. I mean, this stuff could be toxic. It's not made from plant matter, is it?
I was debating in my head whether to call him, will it be worth it, is it throwing good money after bad, etc, isn't this what everyone does while jogging? Has internal debates?
So this little voice spoke in my head. It was Glenda. Remember? Giant puffy dress, crystal crown, quivery quasi-British accent? "You had the power all along," she said. "Click your heels. . ."
So, I guess before I go pay someone, I will explore what I can find out on my own, first. Heck, I've got the whole Internet at my disposal. And a library besides. If I can get my own BP down, and cholesterol, I'll be sooo glad to toss those pills down the john.
I found some good quotes last night, hold on, I'm going to go get them. They seemed worth putting in here.
Ok. Back. Here's one:
"What we must decide is perhaps how we are valuable rather than how valuable we are." -- Edgar Z. Friedenberg
"Miracles sometimes happen, but more often they're made of faith and will and hope and imagination, to say nothing of sweat." -- Tom Waldman
"Make 'I can' an integral part of your vocabulary. Whenever your're tempted to say, 'I can't,' stop, take a deep breath, and imagine what would happen if you gave it your ALL." -- Oprah Winfrey

Happy Birthday to Me, Chapter Two

Birthday evening. Spent the day returning crap from Christmas, returning library books (overdue! Little one had extra chores to "work off" the $3 charge. . .) also had to go to Recycling Center with 3 large tubs as we were out of town on recyke day and can't wait 2 more days, stuff is spilling over on basement floor now. Came home and un-decorated Christmas decorations, well, most of them.
Supper at home with family tonight, no more dinners out now that I am NOT an income-producing creature.
Been feeling guilty all day that I wrote about the crazy umbrella ("Lifetime guarantee!!") and failed to mention the awesome back rub I got immediately afterward. 'Some things you just can't put a price on.' -- Visa commercial.

Happy Birthday to Me

I was lying in bed this morning right before thinking what a comedy my life is. Hubby came home from work at 5:30 am, about 2 hours after I had gone to bed. He turns on the lights, sings Happy Birthday to you, also sings my favorite birthday song, more about that in a minute. Gives me my gift. It's a -- wait, are you sitting down? It's incredible. It's overwhelmingly incredible. Gives me . . . . an umbrella. A very cool umbrella, but, yes, an umbrella. Really small. You push a button, and there's this great WHOOSH! and the umbrella is up. Push the button again and it closes up to a mere 6". He's all happy and says, " Lifetime guarantee!!"
What a bizarre, yet EXTREMELY typical, episode in my life. Typical for me, anyway.

Oh, my favorite birthday song. Here it is:
"Thiiiiiis, iiiiiiiis, your happy birthday song,
It isn't very long."

New Year

How lame is this. New Year's and I promised I would journal so . . . I'm doing this on a BLOG? I must be pretty bored.
Ever since all my childhood journals were lost in a flood, I've been hopeless in keeping a journal. Just lost the heart of it. Yet, every single day of my life, at some point in the day, I think, " That very creative thought I just had -- it would be great in a journal."
So. Here I am. Child in bed, Cat on desk, husband at work. Today is my birthday. Won't tell how old, but ....almost 5-0. Sheesh. Whose life am I in?
That's enough for today. I have to give this some thought.