tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29994858347686238672024-03-13T13:07:14.971-04:00The Amortization of GoodwillKathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06095554727537194370noreply@blogger.comBlogger266125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999485834768623867.post-49277231092559497812015-02-16T06:53:00.004-05:002015-02-16T06:53:51.977-05:00Happiness Project: Tax Season & Lent & EnoughTax Season & Lent are not the same things, although there are commonalities. For instance, they come around the same time. Tax Season is longer. Also, they both involve giving up things that are important to me so that I can have something else. Lent is about getting rid of crap that keeps me away from God. Tax Season is about working long hours for four months so that I can work fewer hours later. I also enjoy the challenge of interesting tax returns and the short-term companionship of tax clients. But when it comes down to it, it's about giving up spring, family, and myself. It's about working from one crisis to another, because that's how we roll. It's about having my integrity questioned every damn day by someone who ought to know better by now. <br />
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Bottom line, it's about keeping me away from God and what I am coming to believe God expects from me.<br />
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And this is my choice. And this is something I'm choosing differently this year. I'm still working. There are too many people who are counting on me for now, and (contrary to my boss' opinion) I have a boat load of integrity and feelings of responsibility. <br />
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How am I choosing to be different? <br />
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Well, right now, it's all theory. I'm sucking out loud at making better choices. I am tired, grumpy, impatient. I keep having mental scenarios in which I deal with situations that not only haven't happened, but probably won't happen. I am angry all the time. Even when I'm faking calm and peace and sincerity.<br />
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So, this is the theory:<br />
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I am not taking worry home. I admit, I woke up this morning and immediately started to dread going to work. And today is Sunday. And tomorrow I have a doctor's appointment and personal training until about 3. To practice my new happiness project, I played a game and concentrated on digging diamonds instead of crap. Then I prayed a prayer of thanksgiving for everything in my life. And I prayed for courage, discernment, and hope. And I drank coffee, got the kids ready for church, and off I went. At church, I was with people I love and who love me. Or at least like me. And I had no patience. I couldn't enjoy the blueberry yum-yum. I worried about things and started crying during one of my favorite hymns. It's a happy hymn too.<br />
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Now I'm home and trying to decide whether to read a novel or go to work. The reason I would go to work is that I would (God willing) be alone and I might actually get work done without someone dropping shit on my desk and telling me to handle it now. But I might not. And the thought of getting in the car is making my heart explode in my chest. I am thinking book... or maybe going to Lowe's to buy paint and supplies...<br />
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<i>My friend had a stroke. He has recovered and is probably healthier now than he has been in a long time. He told me he has had to let it go. And he has, too. When I get crazy, I try to model his demeanor, hoping that the inside stuff will fall into place. That works better than you'd think. Not so much today, but most days.</i><br />
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And now.. Monday. It struck me that I am filling my time with mindless activity in an effort to distract my brain and make it relax. And that isn't working. Because if I don't have to think about what I'm doing, my mind fills with garbage. The scenarios that won't happen. The scenarios that might happen. Lunch.<br />
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So, new theory.<br />
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<b>Begin mindless mindfulness.</b> Plan my day, don't go with what I think I might feel like doing. Add something new: discipline. (Insert shades of grey jokes. No wait, don't). Structure. Not too much, or I won't do it. Not too little, or I won't do it. Enough.<br />
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<b>Plan what I eat</b>. Not a diet. Crap, I gained five pounds just typing the word. Know what I'm going to eat, make it available, so I don't have to think about it. I can't think about it right now. I'm too depressed. My only option appears to be chocolate and pretzels. Prepare other things. Enough.<br />
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<b>Plan to spend time with the people I love</b>, even though all I think I want to do is soak in the bathtub for about a week. Don't invite people to sit in the bathroom while I soak. That's too much. Spend time with people. Not too little not too much. Enough.<br />
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<br />Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06095554727537194370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999485834768623867.post-7203079479534213552015-01-28T05:43:00.002-05:002015-01-28T05:44:16.097-05:00So begins the task...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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After ten years, I am in the process of ending a dysfunctional relationship. If this were a marriage, there would be support groups. Who would stand by while their friend stayed with a person who expected them to do everything, but told them they were useless every day? Who would watch as their friend tried to make things perfect so their partner would not get angry and sulk? Who would stay quiet while their friend beat herself up taking responsibility that wasn't hers without authority or reward? <br />
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Not my friends. And this is why, for the past several years, my friends have encouraged me to find a new job.<br />
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These are the things I like about my job:<br />
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1. I have (most of the time) autonomy. I know what needs to be done and I do it.<br />
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2. I have (most of the time) flexibility. If I need to take my children or grandchildren to school or to the doctor, I can do it. When I need to go to the doctor, I do it. <br />
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3. I work with clients who are (most of the time) grateful to have me help them keep track of their own businesses or do their taxes. I have had many people say that they feel well treated by the people in our office. I am especially pleased when I can dissolve a crisis with kindness, patience, and understanding. I feel appreciated by my clients (most of the time.)<br />
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This is what I hate about working in my job:<br />
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1. I have complete responsibility without authority. I can't really make decisions, and when I do, they are often randomly circumvented by the owner, but I am held responsible when things fail.<br />
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2. While I have flexibility, it is partly because I am paid by the hour. If I don't work, I don't get paid. Still, my boss expects to be able to call me when I am not working and help him. I was once walking on a mountain, enjoying my second honeymoon with my husband, when my boss called to get me to walk him through the e-verify process. When I said that what I would do is read the instructions and follow them, he got angry with me.<br />
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3. My boss claims to rely on me to do everything, even when I am out for 6 weeks after hip replacement surgery, but he says that I am not worth my wages, which are $16 an hour. He claims that I am important, but he questions my integrity. Yeah, I know, he has trust issues. We are all crazy as a bag of cats. I need to take care of my own crazy.<br />
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I really did not mean to get specific. I wanted this to be about me. About how I have to cast off the notion that I owe anything to a person who doesn't respect me. How I owe something to myself and to my family. How I can't cling to a shitty place because I'm afraid of change. I haven't decided whether to leave the whining up there. I think I will, because when I see it in writing, it is harder for me to say, "Well, there really are good things..." "He doesn't mean to be unkind, he's just scared..."<br />
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<em>This is what I know:</em><br />
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1. When I leave, the bridge will burn. I won't burn it, he will. He will feel angry and put upon. People who I have worked with will think I am unfair and ungrateful. I want them to understand, and say, yes, it's time to move on. Great job, while we were here. I don't want to be thought of with anger. It's in my nature. I want to be the responsible one. The reliable one. The rag rug. No, wait... Yeah, I have to take care of my own crazy.<br />
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No matter when I go, it will be a bad time. Things will not be neatly wrapped up. Even if I go out in a pine box, I will be to blame.<br />
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2. God wants me to go. Messages are flying at me. Subtle Facebook memes that mean as much as a generic horoscope, are talking to me directly. In James Earl Jones' voice. The message is: Don't Waste Your Gifts. The gift of writing, the gift of empathy, the gift of problem solving. The gift of parents who worked and saved all of their lives, serving us creamed chipped beef on toast, and leaving me with a safety net of enough.<br />
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Yesterday my blood pressure was 185/111. I won't go into the details of the discussion before that, because I've got it down now and I'd like to keep it that way. That is a message, no?<br />
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3. I don't have a plan. Not much of one. I can take care of the personal friends and family who rely on me for taxes or bookkeeping, at least for now. I need a room of my own. I need to do something with my gifts. I need to do something very scary. I need to move on.<br />
<br />Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06095554727537194370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999485834768623867.post-46544524519507276492015-01-08T07:12:00.000-05:002015-01-08T07:12:21.155-05:00Let it go... the birthday partyA while back I read a blog in which the author talked about setting limits. She said, among other cool things, that when you set a limit on your time and energy, and someone gets mad, why do you care? Often this is an acquaintance or even a stranger, but even if it's friends or family, why do you care that they are angry that you have protected yourself? (I need to find a way to save things I've read on the internet through Facebook. I hate that I can't remember the source.)<br />
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In any case, this is a big problem for me in my New Year's Resolutions. I want people to like me even if I don't like them, and so I do things I don't want to do in order to be accommodating to people I don't care about and who sure don't care about me. <br />
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Dad said that was Lyndon Johnson's problem, although it still doesn't explain Vietnam. <br />
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My husband looked at me funny when I told him and suggested that some might consider that to be a little bit crazy. OK, he didn't say "little bit." I added that to protect my feelings.<br />
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So the lady who wrote the blog said, why do I care if strangers are upset? Am I afraid I won't be invited to their birthday party?<br />
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This is a picture of me at my own birthday party many centuries ago. I'm the one with the cleverly wrapped ball. This, like all of my birthday parties, ended in tears. <div>
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Why? Because I'm as crazy as a bag of cats. I want people to come to my party, but I don't want to be there. I want to be invited to parties, but I don't want to go. I want people to like me, even if I don't like them. Go figure.</div>
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So the point is not that I'm neurotic, but how my being this kind of neurotic is making it hard for me to let things go and to say no to things I really don't want to do. </div>
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This week, after a series of unfortunate incidents, I said no to something I shouldn't have started. And now people are mad at me. I'm mad at them, but I don't want them to be mad at me. And I know in my head that I shouldn't justify myself, but I want everyone to know I'm right and they are badly maligning me.. God that sounds so pathetic. With reason.</div>
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OK, Kathy. Let it go. Move on, don't worry about what other people think. Don't justify; don't talk about it anymore. No one cares. And you didn't want to go to the birthday party anyway.<br /><br /></div>
Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06095554727537194370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999485834768623867.post-74493945515394665742015-01-04T07:27:00.001-05:002015-01-04T07:27:31.919-05:00The Glass of Water<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I found this on Facebook the other day. It was interesting, since my priest Mother Jill had used it in a sermon a few weeks ago. It was more interesting because my friend had said he thought about me when he heard the sermon. "Put it down, Kathy! Put it down!"<br />
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How many metaphors do I need before I learn to let things go? Last Friday, I interrupted my own story to go on a tirade about Free Scotland, an issue that only affects me because my Facebook friends care about it. Yesterday, I got into a huge (if one-sided) argument with the characters on a Lifetime movie. <br />
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I worry, too. I hear about a car accident and wonder if I know anyone in it. I'm afraid the tax season is going to be painful. I can't decide whether to do something I really don't want to do or risk hurting someone's feelings. (Baby steps. I know I should say no, but I think it will be easier to just do it. Unfortunately, I'm going to do a shitty job because it's not my thing and my heart isn't in it. Wow. I think I'd better re-examine that one.)<br />
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And, even though I believe in forgiveness as a tool for mental health and spiritual growth, I have a terrible time letting go of past hurts. Hurts done to me and hurts done to others by me. I replay them, I revisit them ("OK, I'm going to tell this story one more time and then I'll let it go, BUT...") I nurture them.<br />
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Caring deeply is a great thing, but there are limits. These things (not the Lifetime movie, but the other things) are really things I can give to God. <br />
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Worrying endlessly is not a great thing. Other than my superstitious belief that if I worry about something it won't happen, I can't see any benefit. That superstition isn't true, either. Stuff still happens. Or it doesn't. Give it to God.<br />
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And holding on to embarrassments or hurts or anger is really really not helpful. Not even a little. Yeah, yeah, fool me once and all that, but reliving the pain doesn't protect you from future pain. And if you are an INTP Writing Spider, like I am, you still fall for the same thing again. I may be trying to teach myself a lesson by telling the stories, but all I'm hearing is, "if I'd done this differently, it wouldn't have happened." But sometimes, it's not me. (What?) Sometimes, I don't control the situation. (No way!) Sometimes... oh wait, all the time, I can't change the past. Give it to God.<br />
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Put down the water glass. Don't be paralyzed by worry, anger, fear, or even the endless possibilities that are spread before you. Put down the water glass and pick up your life.Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06095554727537194370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999485834768623867.post-76249266705953347532015-01-01T07:02:00.001-05:002015-01-01T07:02:10.874-05:00Happy New Year<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It is said that one should start the New Year as one hopes to continue it. This makes me wonder why so many people, including me often enough, choose to begin the new year hung over and wondering who they kissed at midnight.<br />
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This year, I begin as I'd like to continue. Sort of. <br />
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I begin by writing.<br />
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Now what. <br />
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See, that's a problem. I say, "I begin by writing," and I have nothing more to say. I say, "I am a writer," and I forget all of my words and go back to Diamond Digger Saga. I say, "Today is the day I write," and ... hmm, let me get a cup of coffee.<br />
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I recently read an article about churches that want to grow but don't want to change. The author said that that was like saying, I want to lose weight and get in shape, but I want to eat cheeseburgers all day. The truth of this article struck me, not just for my small, rock-encrusted (but lovely) church, but for myself. My own self.<br />
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I have to change.<br />
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I am 54 years old and have been pretty damn sure of myself since I was two, but I have to change.<br />
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Now, there are people out there saying, "Damn straight, it's about time, too." This is the bad news for them. The things I need to change may not be the things other people want me to change. For instance, I need to say no. Every day. <br />
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I had a discussion with a great friend and great mind, Morgan, who talked to me about how successful kind people set limits. <br />
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It isn't kind to pick up someone else's rocks and carry them. You aren't helping them, you are saying "you can't do this, so I will do it. Even though my back is killing me and you are an ungrateful wretch." You see how that sounds less kind now?<br />
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It isn't kind to agree to do things --- organize the food drive, bake a thousand cookies, copy all of the literature for a class, when you don't want to do it and you feel angry that the person even asked and put you in this place anyway. What were they thinking, making me have to say no? Not so kind.<br />
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It isn't kind to let someone behave boorishly or cruelly, and keep them from the consequences of their actions. It isn't kind to them or to the world. <br />
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It is kind to be polite and civil, even if you have to be direct and even angry. It is kind to be respectful of all people, even the ones who smell bad or who vote Republican on a regular basis. Treat people as if they were people you love. <br />
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RESOLUTION NUMBER 1: Treat people as if they were people I love.<br />
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RESOLUTION NUMBER 2: Set limits that respect myself and my loved ones. (Practice smiling serenely and saying, "I know you can handle that")<br />
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Then there is the whole cheeseburger and Diamond Dash Saga thing. I want to be healthy and fit. I want to play with my grandchildren and talk to my sons about things I don't quite understand. (What do you mean, a Quark isn't a character from Star Trek?) I want to be able to walk. A lot. I'd like to be able to bite my toenails again, but that day may have passed.<br />
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I am working with a personal trainer, but she can't make me get up everyday and practice what she teaches me. I have to do that. Put down the Nook. Or maybe I can sit on the stability ball and play Diamond Dash Saga. Hmmm....<br />
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I am eating junk. The only veggie I had last week was macaroni and cheese. (Hey, I'm Southern. That is a veggie.) I like veggies. I love eating a rainbow a day. I love fish and seafood. I also love chocolate and double grilled cheese sandwiches. OK, a rainbow a day. Less junk, more interesting food.<br />
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RESOLUTION NUMBER 3: Get up and do something.<br />
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RESOLUTION NUMBER 4: Eat a rainbow a day, and make sure every bite you eat is worth it. (Is that two? We'll call it one.)<br />
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And finally, for now: do what I need to do. I know that just because I'm good at something, that doesn't mean it's what I'm meant to do. I know that other people love me but they don't know what I'm meant to do either. I know that I am wasting my gifts, and that is a very very rude thing to do.<br />
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RESOLUTION NUMBER 5: Thank God for my gifts and my grace by using them in ways that God loves --- creatively, kindly, courageously.<br />
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That's not too much to ask, is it?<br />
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Happy New Year 2015.Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06095554727537194370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999485834768623867.post-79945846497502281552012-08-14T14:39:00.000-04:002012-08-14T14:39:52.097-04:00Late meme<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><em>From <a href="http://mimiqueenofmemes.blogspot.com/2012/08/the-queens-meme-127-better-late-than.html" target="_blank">Mimi, the queen</a>:</em></span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><em>1. Are you always on time or just a tad late?</em></span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><em>2. Is there someone in your life that irritates you regularly about not being on time?</em></span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><em>3. Can you think of a time when you were late for something and it was REALLY a big deal?</em></span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><em>4. Do prompt perky people irritate you? (oh, that was a Freudian blog slip)</em></span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><em>5. If you were on your way to work and had five minutes to get there, would you stop in the road to rescue a crossing turtle?</em></span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><em>6. Have you ever had to actually punch a time clock?</em></span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><em>7. What is your standard "excuse" when you are tardy? </em></span></blockquote>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">1. I am usually early or late. I can't seem to get "on-time." Usually, I'm early, because I get nervous, and I like to have time to get settled. I carry a book, and so the waiting for others time is a gift I give myself. It seems that if I'm late, everyone else is on time, but if I'm early, everyone else is late. Kathy Time Karma, I think.</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Trebuchet MS;">2. My son and daughter-in-law have three small children. I know how hard it is for them to be on time, I used to have to make that kind of troop movement. But maybe because I really don't remember how hard it is, or maybe because I'm a grumpy old woman, I often feel they are later than they have to be. Start earlier! I say. But that is easier for me than for them. And so, I tell them to be ready an hour before the real time, in the hopes they will be only 30 minutes late. </span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Trebuchet MS;"> There are other people with fewer excuses who are always late. With some of them, I think it is a time anorexia --- they can't control other things in their lives so they control their time. And they are always late. If I like them enough, I breath deeply and carry a bigger book. If I don't like them enough, I leave. No kidding.</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Trebuchet MS;">3. Big deal for others, not me. As I said, we are almost always early, and we almost always wait. And so, one Thanksgiving (or Christmas or one of those horrible days you have to spend with other people), we were late for dinner at my in-laws. My in-laws are NEVER ready when they say they will be. My brother & sisters-in-law are ALWAYS late, leaving us to sit and wait. And I can't even read my book. Well, this time, damned if they weren't on time. And damned if they didn't sit down and start eating without us. This pissed me off, because I've spent a boatload of time watching tennis and waiting for them. But this is family, and so I breathed deeply, refused to apologize and ate dinner. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"><span style="color: blue;">4. Prompt perky people? Well, that's not me. I'm not perky. I don't perk. Prompt people only irritate me when I was really planning on finishing a chapter or two of a book. Other than that, not a problem. Perky people sometimes give me a headache.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Trebuchet MS;">5. I've stopped to help a large turtle in the road. I've picked up a couple of dogs. I probably would stop for a turtle, unless I thought the morons on the road would as soon kill me as the turtle. Then I'd just swerve and go on.</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Trebuchet MS;">6. I worked at Wendy's for a week, and I punched a time clock then. I'd <strike>repressed</strike> forgotten that.</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Trebuchet MS;">7. I usually say that Bob and I had sex and it took longer than we'd expected. I usually only have to say that once.</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Wasn't that fun? Now I'm late for work...</span><br />
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Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06095554727537194370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999485834768623867.post-80035622708004973402012-04-10T17:38:00.001-04:002012-04-10T17:39:23.336-04:00Procrastination meme... getting around to it<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">From </span><a href="http://mimiqueenofmemes.blogspot.com/2012/04/queens-meme-116-procrastination-meme.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Mimi the Queen of memes</span></a><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">:</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>"Procrastination: The art of putting things off. I call it an "art" because it rears its ugly head in my life on a daily basis. Did you notice that I am writing this meme at 7:50 PM??? I rest my case."</em></span></blockquote><br />
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">And I, in the middle of tax season, am procrastinating searching for e-services on the IRS website, in order to answer these important questions.</span> <br />
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<span style="color: #990000;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="color: #990000;"></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">1. Have you ever procrastinated about something that had life or death consequences?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Not yet. Although the not getting the ulcers checked thing might have been important. But probably not. </span><span style="color: #990000;"></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">2. What is the biggest area of procrastination in your life?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Cleaning my house... no, exercising... no, blogging... no... LIFE.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">3. If you are not a procrastinator, can you give advice to the rest of us who are?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Not applicable. Although, as a recovering procrastinator (and serious back-slider) I'll say: it doesn't get easier if you put it off, most of the time. Sometimes it does. So think: if I don't fix it now, will this disappear or will it turn to a putrefying pile of slime?</span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">4. Can you think of a time when you wish you had procrastinated and NEVER done what you were waiting so long to do?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Oh yeah... the ulcer thing. Maybe not never, but I specifically told the doctor not to cure me until I lost another 30 lbs. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">5. What are you procrastinating about right now?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">A tax return that is going to turn into a putrefying pile of slime if I don't fix it soon... but there is tomorrow. I'll start fresh, right after coffee and oatmeal!</span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">6. Is it really ever too late to turn back now?</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Not really. Except maybe on a roller coaster. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Trebuchet MS;">This actually reminds me of a story not related to procrastination. When I got married, I insisted on a pretty big wedding (by my mother's standards) and as we got further and further into it, I became more and more stressed. Dad said, "If you and Bob just elope, I'll give you $2000." I said, "We can't! It's too late to turn back now!" And Dad said, "It was thinking like that that kept us in Vietnam so damn long."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> </span><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">7. What is the cure for your wicked lazy ways? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">At some point the putrefying piles of slime will become more unpleasant than taking action. But that day is not today.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000;"></span>Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06095554727537194370noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999485834768623867.post-88904349546345182882012-03-13T07:22:00.000-04:002012-03-13T07:22:05.306-04:00Daylight Savings Time: Keeping the crops from burning up in the field<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Back in the 70s, I think, when the US Congress was discussing having Daylight Savings Time all year round, my Congressman, Floyd Spence, got up and said that if we did that, all that extra sunlight would make the crops burn up in the field. I am not making this up.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Over the years, DLS time has become like the weather: everyone complains about it but no one does anything about it. As I sit here, in the dark at what should be 6:15 am but is 7:15 am, I am once again wishing they'd just decide. Either way. I don't care. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I wake up before dawn most days. I have no problem sleeping in the daylight. I live in SC so even in the dead of winter or center of summer, the days and nights are pretty close to the same length. Extra light, extra dark: who cares when you can sun bathe on Christmas Day as often as not.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">This October, like the one before it and the one before that, my oldest son complained about the dark. Mom, why does it have to get so cold and dark? Although flattered that at 25, he still thought I controlled the weather, I felt compelled to say, "I thought you were the smart one. We call it 'Winter.'" Of course, I was wrong this year. It got darker, but not really colder.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">This is what DLS does to people. More heart attacks. More arguments. More rambling meaningless posts by sleep deprived bloggers.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Isn't it time to do something? Let me know when you have a plan.</span>Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06095554727537194370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999485834768623867.post-79988520717489666762012-02-10T09:00:00.000-05:002012-02-10T09:00:22.953-05:00A meditation on rocks<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RiSkXyXT3Yo/TzUeiPdBCXI/AAAAAAAAASg/KrVhZxLwCCI/s1600/colorful-rocks1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RiSkXyXT3Yo/TzUeiPdBCXI/AAAAAAAAASg/KrVhZxLwCCI/s320/colorful-rocks1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><em><span style="color: #351c75;">God came to a woman and said, I have a job for you. </span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #351c75;">She said, "Of course, I'll do anything." </span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #351c75;"> God pointed to a wagon with some rocks in it... not a lot, but enough. God said, Carry those to the top of the mountain.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #351c75;">She pulled the wagon and said, "This isn't really hard, are you sure this is what you want me to do?"</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #351c75;">God nodded.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #351c75;">As she pulled the wagon, she passed many people. When they heard what she was doing, they said, "Hey, I have some rocks I need to have taken, but I don't have time. Will you just add mine?"</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #351c75;">She thought about how God wanted her to help others, and so she said, of course. Some added big rocks, some added small rocks, some added just a handful of sand. But soon the wagon was overflowing and was very very hard to pull.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #351c75;">Finally she sat down and cried. "God, what have you done? How can you expect me to do ALL of this?"</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #351c75;">God said to her, what are you doing? What is all of this?</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #351c75;">She said, "Rocks. You asked me to take them. And you asked me to help others."</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #351c75;">God reached in and began removing the extra rocks, pebbles, and sand. Yes, help others, but don't take on their burdens when they aren't willing to carry them themselves. These aren't your rocks.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #351c75;">The woman looked at the wagon with the original rocks. "Is that all you want me to do?"</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #351c75;">God nodded.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #351c75;">The woman looked at God. "Are you sure?"</span></em><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I have been thinking about my rocks recently. I think I've taken on too many. </span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Some were my rocks but aren't any more... it's time to move on. That is really hard for me to do. Am I quitting? No, I'm finished. But it feels like quitting. But I'm not helping as much, it doesn't feel right, I still love the rock, but it's time to put it down.</span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Some looked like my rocks, but I think I misunderstood. Just because I can do something doesn't mean I should do it. And contrary to popular opinion (mine), I'm not always right. I'm not always the go-to girl. Sometimes I need to let that rock go. Lose control. </span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Some are rocks others gave me because they thought I'd be good at carrying them. They were wrong.</span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Some are my rocks right now, but will not be forever.</span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Some have been my rocks for a long time and will always be my rocks. But now they are different (I'd do a metamorphic analogy, but that seems too hard.) Mostly they are their own rocks. I just have to love and admire them, I don't have to carry them anymore.</span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">And some are my pebbles on Saturday night, but not all the time. And those, I just love and hug and raise up with joy.</span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I could go on, but I think maybe I need to meditate and pray on this one. What are my rocks? And what aren't? And how do I know the difference?</span>Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06095554727537194370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999485834768623867.post-83830747886455748992012-02-08T07:24:00.001-05:002012-02-08T07:28:35.639-05:00A dream<span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Last night I dreamed that I visited a new friend at her house. The house was by the ocean, which surprised me, since we live in Columbia, SC. But this is a dream, and in my dreams, all houses are by the ocean.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">While I was visiting other people came. They were her other friends and they were bringing food and drink for a party. It looked wonderful --- focaccia studded with chunks of yellow, red, and orange peppers; bread with chunky vegetable and cheese spreads; wines and of course, sweet tea. At first I didn't eat because I was trying to find my son and make sure he was OK. Then I sort of felt uncomfortable eating. Maybe a little hurt that no one asked me to come in and eat. Everyone was having such a good time, but I didn't know them.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">When I finally decided to eat, the food had been packed up. I got a little piece of bread and cheese, and felt very sad that I hadn't gone in earlier for more.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">When everyone was gone, I saw my friend crying. I said, "I'm sorry I didn't eat your food. I didn't know if I was invited."</span><br />
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<span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">And she said, "You were here. You didn't have to ask."</span>Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06095554727537194370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999485834768623867.post-29848790912009694462012-02-07T07:28:00.001-05:002012-02-07T07:31:25.606-05:00Winnowing<span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">It is tax season, the time when all of my other busyness gets pushed aside for my business-busyness. I always say (as I complain that I am tired, stretched, stressed) that I can't complain, because this is how I make money. If I don't make it now, it doesn't get made.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Tax season is not the time to think about the wisdom of that decision.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I enjoy preparing taxes, researching interesting tax issues, solving problems. For short periods of time, my mild Introvert can enjoy talking to people, learning what has changed in their lives in the past year, celebrating and commiserating with my once-a-year friends. I don't like telling people that, for instance, taking all of your money out of your 401(k) to buy a Corvette may have seemed like a good idea in June, but right now you owe several thousand dollars in taxes. I hate it when people cry. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">But that's not really what I'm thinking about right now. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">In a class I'm taking... introduction to spiritual autobiography... I came upon a truth I've had hidden in my closet under a pile of clothes I don't wear anymore, beside a box of books I've read and meant to donate, on top of a basket of yarn I'm going to make into scarves and sweaters and baby blankets for babies on their way to college. I remembered that I am a hoarder. I have lots and lots of stuff that I might need some day, but can't find when I want it. I recently found three staple removers in a drawer. I can't find any when I want them... note the fingernails.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">But that's not new, we've talked about that. The assignment was to list and describe things you cherish. From childhood, youth, yesterday. What do you have that sits in the shrine in your soul?</span><br />
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">And I realized that I have nothing. I have things that are important to me, and as I think about it, I remember more. But very often I think, well yeah, that's important, but where is it? It's covered with all of that stuff that isn't important... the stuff that protects me from... from what?</span><br />
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I have thought (on and off) for a while that I need to winnow my space if I want to order my soul, but I am very very afraid to do it.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">And so, my intention for this week and month, in the middle of tax season, in the middle of a mild mild winter, is to winnow. Just a little. Just a small patch at a time. Just to see if I can survive.</span>Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06095554727537194370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999485834768623867.post-2465629245063697092012-01-10T07:11:00.000-05:002012-01-10T07:11:34.852-05:00Happy Birthday Baby Boy!<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">26 years ago yesterday, my water broke in the check out line at Family Mart. This was the old days, so the clerk had already had about 10 price checks (when the price tag isn't on it --- no bar code!) and was going for a world record.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">It wasn't a big flood, just a trickle, and since I was wearing a dress and blue furry knee socks, it wasn't really noticeable. I stepped aside and kind of contemplated... did my water break or did I pee myself? Definitely water broke...</span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Bob wrote a check, glancing at me nervously. I was 9 days over due, it was bound to happen sometime...</span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">"I need to see two forms of ID," the clerk smacked through Bubblicious. Bob searched, found them, gave them to her.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Finally, we are loading the car.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">"My water broke."</span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">"Let's go directly to the hospital."</span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">"No, let's go home and put up these groceries while I call the doctor."</span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The next day, Robert was born. He was beautiful.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">He still is, of course. Over the years, I have held him and talked to him or mostly listened to him. I am constantly amazed at his insight, his loving heart, his strength. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">He is a father himself, now, and the insight, love, and strength serve him well. I hope he finds his place soon, because I know it will be a great place. It's hell being a late bloomer... I still don't know what my place is... but wherever Robert goes and whatever Robert does, he is a well-loved and blessed child.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Happy Birthday Robert, I love you.</span>Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06095554727537194370noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999485834768623867.post-59688588418563441762012-01-02T05:23:00.000-05:002012-01-02T05:23:48.221-05:00Copernicus Called<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">... he said to tell you you're not the center of the universe.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Copernicus has to call a lot of people these days. Brides to be, new parents, the Kardasians. He's had me on speed-dial this holiday season, but it's not just me... see, I'm learning.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">My son and his wife are lovely people, but they will not be on time. If Bob and I were Noah and wife, our population would be down by a third. Three hours later, knee deep in the big muddy, my son and his adorable family would be at the dock.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">In my family, there are only three or four occasions a year that require precise timing. Christmas is one of them. This year, they finally showed up three hours late, after we were packing up and getting ready for the next stop on our Christmas tour. It was great to have the babies there at all.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Yesterday, New Year's day, they were making the collards. My son was two and a half hours late, and my husband had already gone to prepare for the Taize service at the church. Everyone who was eating had already eaten. There is a pot of collards going to waste somewhere. Bob is angry. I am angry.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">But, we are also not without blame. We have allowed our son and his wife to treat us like this for the last four years. "They have to get the babies together. They are sick. They are under a lot of pressure." </span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Let's think about this. If I had "friends" who did this to me, would I continue to invite them to things? Would I continue to count on them? Of course not. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The fact that this is my son and his wife; people I love and cherish, parents of my darling grandchildren --- that means that I'll put up with a little more. It also means I need to take some responsibility here.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Retroactive parenting is a dangerous thing, especially if you are trying to parent other people's children as well as your own. If you blew it the first time, you don't get a do-over. However, teaching expectations in regard to yourself is essential for a responsible and maybe happy life.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">And so, this is what Bob and I have to do.</span><br />
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<ol><li><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">We have to tell our son and his wife we are angry.</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">We have to tell them that if they don't want to do something with us to tell us, but don't back out at the last minute or be several hours late.</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">We have to follow through & the next time they are that late, they will find an empty table with nothing but dishes to wash.</span></li>
</ol><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I'm sure this will make me miserable for a while. Oh well, I can't feel too much worse than I do now.</span>Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06095554727537194370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999485834768623867.post-22249756997492579772012-01-01T07:39:00.000-05:002012-01-01T07:39:20.725-05:00Happy New Year!<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I welcomed in the New Year on Icelandic Time and possible Greenland's time, but was well asleep before Eastern Standard Time's stroke of midnight. The fireworks didn't wake me up then, although a barrage at about 1 am got me out of bed.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Happy New Year!</span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Amazingly, it is still the new year, even though I didn't see its birth. It's a little chilly out there, but will be in the 70s today.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">And then there is today. Pretty much my last day of rest before tax seasons... at least the last day that doesn't involve unpleasant medical procedures. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Today I will go to church and be with a small group of my St Michael & All Angels family. Most will not be rising and shining, but they will be there in spirit. Bob is in charge of the music today and he's very excited. And since we're Episcopalians, we're still singing Christmas songs. The recessional will be Go Tell it on the Mountain. Is that a great song or what?</span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">This afternoon, I'll cook a pork loin, collards, and hoppin' john at my sister's house. These are the ingredients for luck, health, and wealth in the new year. I'm not dead and I have a house, so I guess it works.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I'm doing something slightly different with the pork and hoppin' john this year. I'm using a good bit of rosemary. It's for remembrance and good taste, both of which we need. I have white field peas and black eyed peas. I'm using a mix of brown, basmati, and wild rice. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The collards are sauteed... not as little as spinach but not cooked half past death. Collards are hefty leaves... they do need some cooking, but if you cook them too much they look like what happens when the cat eats a lizard.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Perversely, even though I cook the pork, the collards and hoppin' john are vegan. I use olive oil instead of pork fat. I know it's sacrilege but I don't care. I'll be eating this hoppin' john all week.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Tonight we will go to the Taize service at St. Michael's. It is a contemplative service with quiet readings and quiet repetitive music, all in candle light. I usually start crying a little, but it helps me work things out.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Tomorrow is a bowl game (go Cocks), work in the morning until my boss gets antsy and wants to go prepare for the game, and house cleaning. Then the doors open on Tuesday to W-2s, e-verify, and soon... tax returns. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">HAPPY NEW YEAR!</span>Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06095554727537194370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999485834768623867.post-36055534232419393492011-12-31T11:03:00.000-05:002011-12-31T11:03:40.429-05:00If I win a whimsy:<em><span style="color: #20124d;">This is what I'd like.</span></em><br />
<a href="http://www.artfire.com/ext/shop/product_view/walkinthewoodsllc/246725/winter_wheat___moon_brooch_-_handmade_jewelry/handmade/jewelry/brooches/other">http://www.artfire.com/ext/shop/product_view/walkinthewoodsllc/246725/winter_wheat___moon_brooch_-_handmade_jewelry/handmade/jewelry/brooches/other</a><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #20124d;">Isn't it beautiful? I speaks to me. </span>Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06095554727537194370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999485834768623867.post-89476151511168908272011-12-31T10:57:00.000-05:002011-12-31T10:57:24.011-05:00What I Made Today: Win a Happy 2012 Whimsy!<a href="http://whatrosemadetoday.blogspot.com/2011/12/win-happy-2012-whimsy.html">What I Made Today: Win a Happy 2012 Whimsy!</a><br /><br /><span style="color:#000099;">This is a great way to start the year... or any day.</span>Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06095554727537194370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999485834768623867.post-69938740942288716952011-12-31T08:03:00.000-05:002011-12-31T08:03:50.990-05:00New Year's Eve<span style="color: #073763; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Oh look: it's New Year's Eve. Has this been a year or what?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #073763; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I continue with the ragged tradition of setting out goals or intentions for my year. I also continue with my ragged tradition of keeping them in the back of my mind and not sweating them too much.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #073763; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Last year, I lost 20 lbs. I'd like to say it was from healthy eating and exercise, and maybe the healthier eating was a big part of it. However, I am eating better food because I don't have much of an appetite. The doctors are checking me out, and I've given them strict instructions not to cure me until I lose 20 more lbs.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #073763; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">And so, number 1: Lose 20 lbs. Continue to eat good food: rainbows of fruits and veggies, whole grains, light white proteins... Continue to Eat the Angel Way, even more. I also intend to exercise the Angel way this year... move my body in ways that make me happy, stronger, more flexible, and more energetic.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #073763; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Number 2: Become financially independent. Bob and I are writing a budget (although I haven't told him that yet.) We are going to stop wasting money on things that aren't important. I am going to SIMPLIFY.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #073763; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Which leads to Number 3: Simplify my house. Purge, recycle, donate... why do I need three can openers? Because I couldn't find one and bought another. You can see how this ties to number 2.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #073763; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Number 4: Continue on my spiritual journey to the center of my soul. That was supposed to sound poetic, but I think it sounded sort of pompous. (Number 4.5: sound less pompous.) What I mean is that I want to find out what I'm supposed to do with my life. I'm 51. It's time to get serious. Sort of.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #073763; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Well, here they are, written out in fine pompous words. It's up to me now... </span><br />
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<span style="color: #073763; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">HAPPY NEW YEAR!</span>Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06095554727537194370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999485834768623867.post-91657409237543376272011-11-24T09:47:00.000-05:002011-11-24T09:47:50.480-05:00Thanksgiving Happiness<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I have missed a couple of days on my happiness project. It's not that I didn't have many things to make me happy, it's that one of those things was oxycodone/acetaminophen that I was prescribed after my gall bladder surgery. And my motto is "Friends don't let friends blog drunk" or stoned or under the influence of too much caffeine.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Monday, we arrived at 5:15 am to prepare for my surgery. The intake folk at Palmetto Baptist were wonderful, professional, efficient and friendly without being irritating. Not one asked me "how are we feeling this morning?" My doctor did ask if I was ready, which made me wonder what would happen if I said no.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I went home and my darling husband took care of me all day. OK, he gave me drugs and hogged the TV remote, but he's still a peach.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Good drugs, good insurance and excellent heath care. Gotta make you smile. And be grateful, because I know I am fortunate to have all of this.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Tuesday, I felt a little bit yuckier, but not terrible. I took drugs and slept between writing and knitting. I am knitting something, and am proud of myself because I've never succeeded in knitting more than a small triangle. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Today is Thanksgiving; the day we set aside for gratitude. When asked what I am grateful for, I always say "family and friends, home and hearth," because those are the basics. I don't want to leave them off, ever, because I am blessed to be able to take them for granted.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I am also thankful for all of the wonderful people in my life who make me laugh, give me hugs, help me think.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I am thankful for my children and grandchildren, and I pray that they will all find the way God wants them to go. Soon. Not that I'm rushin'...</span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I am thankful for my friends, virtual and real. I am thankful for love without judgement or limits. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I am thankful for things that are happening in my life, my heart, and my mind; and for the people who are helping me on the way.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I am thankful for so much, I think I'll stop. Thank you thank you thank you.</span>Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06095554727537194370noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999485834768623867.post-21951739827645725542011-11-20T07:48:00.000-05:002011-11-20T07:48:13.389-05:00Sunday morning<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Friday, Bob and I went to </span><a href="http://www.brookgreen.org/map.cfm" target="_blank"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Brookgreen Gardens</span></a><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> on our way home from Myrtle Beach. Brookgreen Gardens was the home of the Huntingtons and houses the wonderful sculptures by Anna Hyatt Huntington and other marvelous sculptures they collected.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">It is a garden, and even in the winter, it has lots of happiness potential.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PGgtZz3_7WU/TsjyKGR6i0I/AAAAAAAAARo/r3uo_gGZ46c/s1600/Today+in+the+garden.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PGgtZz3_7WU/TsjyKGR6i0I/AAAAAAAAARo/r3uo_gGZ46c/s320/Today+in+the+garden.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">There are berries and camellias all winter long. There were even some roses and sage flowers of some sort. And pansies, of course. It wouldn't be winter without plantings of pansies.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The sculpture and the trees are beautiful.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZWWGPaizDsY/Tsj0qtUchII/AAAAAAAAARw/29owa18iUtU/s1600/Live+Oak+through+gate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZWWGPaizDsY/Tsj0qtUchII/AAAAAAAAARw/29owa18iUtU/s320/Live+Oak+through+gate.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cBFPyFw2xgY/Tsj0yoybbVI/AAAAAAAAAR4/2dtg5UDjO7A/s1600/Diana+at+pond.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cBFPyFw2xgY/Tsj0yoybbVI/AAAAAAAAAR4/2dtg5UDjO7A/s320/Diana+at+pond.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Diana and her hound... she's here a lot.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NjFxcOdI4hM/Tsj0_CxxQkI/AAAAAAAAASA/-wx3cN1V2W0/s1600/Jaguar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NjFxcOdI4hM/Tsj0_CxxQkI/AAAAAAAAASA/-wx3cN1V2W0/s320/Jaguar.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qZydPZ6SHyk/Tsj1EPlxQ8I/AAAAAAAAASI/XzjORduo5RM/s1600/Lady+reaching+for+pond.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qZydPZ6SHyk/Tsj1EPlxQ8I/AAAAAAAAASI/XzjORduo5RM/s320/Lady+reaching+for+pond.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_ZRq86peqE8/Tsj1Jrppa0I/AAAAAAAAASQ/iLFhqSgdVnM/s1600/Between+Past+and+Future.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_ZRq86peqE8/Tsj1Jrppa0I/AAAAAAAAASQ/iLFhqSgdVnM/s320/Between+Past+and+Future.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">We had a lovely lunch in the middle of the garden in the old kitchen building. I ate a vegetable wrap with dill sauce and iced peach tea. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">It was an afternoon full of happiness and appreciation for the joys of life... big and small. The small being, I was able to walk around the garden for three hours without too much twitching from my twitchy hip.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Yesterday, Saturday, I read alone most of the day. I took a warm bubble bath and read some more. The Son of Neptune, by Rick Riordon. I'm almost finished, then I'll give it back to Mark.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Gabe and Brendon spent the night... and now we are getting ready for church. I guess I'd better help...</span>Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06095554727537194370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999485834768623867.post-29131095664944950632011-11-18T06:50:00.002-05:002011-11-20T08:14:52.811-05:00Red sky at night/ red sky in the morning... mixed messages<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">One:</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-l0ucJAlDwO8/Tsj9NBv4AOI/AAAAAAAAASY/VhDwq5ud8pg/s1600/sunrise.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-l0ucJAlDwO8/Tsj9NBv4AOI/AAAAAAAAASY/VhDwq5ud8pg/s320/sunrise.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Last night there was a beautiful coral sunset over the ocean. I'll put in the picture when I can download it. Of course, the picture can only represent the vision --- you'll have to imagine the smell of salt and winter in the air, the cold embracing the city. Since I'm in SC, I welcome cold. I know some of y'all have already had enough. This morning there was a crimson sunrise. Beautiful, but what? Red sky delight or warning? Oh well. We'll see. Still stunning.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I love the beach in the winter.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Two:</span><br />
<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I enjoyed the seminar yesterday. PTI tax has interesting amusing speakers who don't cross the line into silly or (heaven forbid) political. Taxes are what they are. Congress makes a new mess every year, and every time they "simplify" taxes, we get new clients. That's not political, that's life.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I love good continuing education seminars.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Three:</span><br />
<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">In my continuing farewell to my gallbladder tour, I had a wonderful fried seafood dinner at Drunken Jack's in Murrells Inlet. Bob, Bruce, and I went down there last night. It was too dark to see the inlet, but you can just feel the water, can't you? They also had yummy sounding not fried food, but that wouldn't be a farewell to my gallbladder, would it?</span><br />
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<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I love good seafood at the inlet.</span>Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06095554727537194370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999485834768623867.post-85705566035776616232011-11-17T07:02:00.000-05:002011-11-17T07:02:49.673-05:00Good news/bad news<span style="color: #999999; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The good news bad news is that I am in Myrtle Beach in an ocean front hotel getting ready to go downstairs for another tax seminar.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #999999; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Yesterday's blisses were pretty easy to find, I'll just have to narrow it down.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #999999; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I rode down to Myrtle Beach with Bob. That alone helped me relax enough to be an not unpleasant person this morning. The weather was great on the ride down.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #999999; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Once we got here, the fog rolled in. I couldn't see anything from the balcony but fog, and I could hear the waves thundering beneath it. Very very cool. It was even cooler when a thunderstorm hit later in the evening. We could see the rain dancing over the ocean. Bob said it was like watching ghosts. We slept with the balcony door open, listening to the wind and the surf.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #999999; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">We went to Outback for dinner. It was close and I decided to eat a blooming onion as a farewell gesture to my gallbladder, which is leaving me on Monday. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #999999; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The color of the day is gray, but I kind of like that. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #999999; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">On to tax education!</span>Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06095554727537194370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999485834768623867.post-15242287722650384212011-11-16T06:41:00.001-05:002011-11-16T06:43:48.255-05:00Stretching for Happiness<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Yesterday was a day.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">A day that makes me stretch to find the happy places. But they are there. <strike>Sort of.</strike></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">First, I went to an orthopedist about my supposedly herniated disks and arthritic hip. He poo-pooed them both, having seen much worse. The fact that he himself is getting his knee replaced may have lowered his sympathy level. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">That is ok, because I don't want a hip replacement or back surgery or any of those horrible things. I want to be able to sleep through the night, sit on the floor, and let my grandkids and lovely niece sit on my lap without me screaming.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">And, I have high hopes, because he is sending me to a physical therapist. YEAH!!!! I hope he does massages and gives me exercises that will make me feel better.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Happy moment number one.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I probably shouldn't mention that I left the office, went the wrong way, got lost & found, took the elevator the wrong way, made it to my office and walked into the office... wait that's my second story.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I'm in my office about 10 minutes when Gina gets in from her class. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">"Your car sounds funny."</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">"I noticed it was making a weird noise when I got out."</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">"Really, how long ago?"</span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Moment of enlightenment.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I <strike>run</strike> hobble outside.... yep. I left my car running. And thought, I wonder why it's making that sound, like it's still running...</span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">At least I didn't lock the door.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Why is this happy moment number 2? Well, it made us laugh for the rest of the day, and we have a new catch phrase: "I know this may seem dumb... well not as dumb as leaving your car running..."</span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Number three. Number three.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I'm going to have to go with the weather again. Bee-you-tee-full. I'll take it as long as I can get it.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I guess that's the point, huh? Find happiness where you can and embrace it. Not too hard or it might break...</span>Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06095554727537194370noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999485834768623867.post-69507830137050628302011-11-15T07:27:00.000-05:002011-11-15T07:27:05.730-05:00South Carolina Fall<span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Spring in South Carolina is one of my favorite days, but I have to say that autumn is the very best.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #b45f06;"></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Yesterday was one of the fine days of Autumn... 78 degrees, sunny, with a mild breeze. The leaves that change are glorious: yellow maples and crepe myrtles, red maples and dogwoods, orange oak;, all blazing out among the still very green pine trees.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br />
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<span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The air seems as if God has set the thermostat for the perfect temperature. As the wind brushes my very light-weight sweater, I feel no temperature to notice. It's not hot; it's not cold. It's just right.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="color: #b45f06;"></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">And that is one thing that made me very happy yesterday.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">When I got home, I took Mark to </span><a href="http://www.gamestop.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Gamestop</span></a><span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> so that he could fix the arrangements for a game he has preordered. When I first went to Gamestop, or any shop like that, I just sat back and let my kids speak the gaming language. Now, I'm a tiny bit more comfortable, but I still love to see my 13 years old walk up to the store manager and start talking about games, system requirements, and whatever. The people who work at these stores are gamers. That's great for the <strike>kids</strike> customers and for parents, uncles, grandmothers, etc who go into the store and say, "Um my grandson plays some game that seems to involve a blue... animal..." With a few questions, the folks at Gamestop figure out what you mean, find out what the game system is, and send you on your way. Maybe I've been lucky, but I've had great help at several stores. We usually go to the one on Two Notch (Columbia), but I've had help at others.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">And that, believe it or not, is number two. A trip to Gamestop.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Number three also involves shopping. I went to </span><a href="http://www.bi-lo.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Bi-Lo</span></a><span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> with Bob and Mark. We each had a little basket and we picked up a few things for dinner. I got American Grain bread and feta cheese spread, fresh pasta, an apple and a pear. Mark and Bob got other stuff. We all ate whatever we wanted when we got home. Did I mention that my stove needs a new motherboard? Anyway, it was a pleasant trip and I am very much into bread and cheese these days.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Number three: a trip to Bi-Lo where we didn't kill each other.</span>Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06095554727537194370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999485834768623867.post-54900896603641933132011-11-14T07:35:00.000-05:002011-11-14T07:35:23.292-05:00GraceI read that people who sit down and write about things that made them happy during the day are happier people. I think it's three things and they can be things that were just bits of joy, things you did that made you feel accomplished, things that helped someone else.<br />
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I think I will try this, especially since I tend to freak out during the holiday season, which leads quickly to tax season, which leads to melt downs, night terrors and loss of patience at home.<br />
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Since it's 7:28 am EST, I'll think about yesterday.<br />
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Yesterday morning, I told the story of Joseph in Egypt to the combined Sunday school classes at St. Michael and All Angels Episcopal Church. The children ranged in age from 7 to 13 (since my grandchidlren weren't there) and they all listened well and talked about what was important to them in the story afterwards. It was terrifying but very cool. They are wonderful kids.<br />
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I had a conversation with Mark, who is 13, and Joseph, who is 22. It doesn't matter what we talked about --- they are my sons and it's always a wonderful thing to have a real conversation.<br />
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I spent a good bit of the day reading in bed with my husband Bob. We were both a little under the weather, and the closeness was a comfort.<br />
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Right now, for today, I am about to have a great (I hope) cup of coffee. That's a great start.Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06095554727537194370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999485834768623867.post-55682115289408826392011-11-05T07:52:00.000-04:002011-11-05T07:52:21.811-04:00Where did the time go?<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">It's been four months since my last post on this blog. Where did the time go?</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Part of it went to (sort of) taking part in the Blogblast4peace countdown at </span><a href="http://thematriarchscorner.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The Matriarch's Corner</span></a><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">, another of my blogs. </span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Part of it went to Gardens of Time and Sims Social of Facebook. </span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Part of it went to catching up at work after a fairly disastrous beginning of the year. </span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Part of it went to working on the board at Carolina School for Inquiry, a child-centered inquiry-based multi-aged public charter school in Columbia, SC.</span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Part of it went to reading and taking classes at St. Michael & All Angel's Episcopal Church.</span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Part of it went to my family and their needs and wants and whatevers.</span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Part of it went to myself: falling apart at 51 & trying to sew myself back together.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I should make a pie chart...</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">...later</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">So now it is November 4. I have thought a whole lot about peace in the last three months and I think it's helped me find some personal peace. The dreaded holiday-with-family-drama season has begun and I'm not freaking too much.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">OK, I did schedule gallbladder surgery for November 21, and that might interfere with Thanksgiving a little. I'll still be able to go to the dinners (one Thursday and one Friday), but if I need to leave early, everyone will understand. No dramatic, "I can't believe you just said that!" but more of a "I think I'm going to puke, see ya later."</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">This is really really going to be a hard candy Christmas. My son and daughter-in-law and their three children may be homeless in January, although they are taking steps to find a place with another couple (bless their hearts). My husband and I have a house and are making enough to get by, mostly, but there won't be a lot of stuff under the Christmas tree.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">There will be a tree, though, and I think we'll try to observe Advent more meaningfully this year. We will go and look at light displays (the more color and plastic reindeer, the better). We will make and eat cookies if my range gets the new mother board it needs. (I am not kidding. The damn stove has a mother board. You'd think it would cook for me, or at least make some suggestions...)</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Anyway, this season from Thanksgiving to New Years Day is about family and community not about money. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">And as our parents get older, we wonder if we'll be able to have these same damn arguments every damn year for very much longer. I know that since my Mom died five years ago, I actually miss her yelling "Use the ricer! It works better!" every time I made my cardiac mashed potatoes (with the beater... "remember when Kathy broke the beater making mashed potatoes?") Well, not really, because her voice is still in my head.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">And as our children get older, to that in-between age where there are no toys for them and they'd rather go naked than wear the clothes we bought even if we bought them in the cool store... ("Yesterday, Mom, it was cool yesterday..."), we wonder how much longer we'll be able to lay claim to first place in their hearts.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Then the children who have another in first place, a wife or husband and children of their own, will come by briefly as they go to visit other relatives and other friends. The hugs and candy-cane kisses make every Christmas bright, no matter what day or for how long.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I wonder if I can enjoy this season this year. Put aside the annoyances. Forget the to do list. Avoid the Martha Stewart magazine. Just eat candy canes and hug people I love.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I wonder...</span>Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06095554727537194370noreply@blogger.com1