Late meme

From Mimi, the queen:
1. Are you always on time or just a tad late?
2. Is there someone in your life that irritates you regularly about not being on time?
3. Can you think of a time when you were late for something and it was REALLY a big deal?
4. Do prompt perky people irritate you? (oh, that was a Freudian blog slip)
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?
6. Have you ever had to actually punch a time clock?
7. What is your standard "excuse" when you are tardy?

 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.

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. 
     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.

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.  

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.

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.

6.  I worked at Wendy's for a week, and I punched a time clock then.  I'd repressed forgotten that.

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.

Wasn't that fun?  Now I'm late for work...

Procrastination meme... getting around to it

From Mimi the Queen of memes:

"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."

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.




1. Have you ever procrastinated about something that had life or death consequences?


Not yet.  Although the not getting the ulcers checked thing might have been important.  But probably not. 


2. What is the biggest area of procrastination in your life?


Cleaning my house... no, exercising... no, blogging... no... LIFE.



3. If you are not a procrastinator, can you give advice to the rest of us who are?


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?



4. Can you think of a time when you wish you had procrastinated and NEVER done what you were waiting so long to do?


Oh yeah... the ulcer thing.  Maybe not never, but I specifically told the doctor not to cure me until I lost another 30 lbs. 



5. What are you procrastinating about right now?


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!



6. Is it really ever too late to turn back now?


Not really.  Except maybe on a roller coaster. 

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."
 7. What is the cure for your wicked lazy ways?



At some point the putrefying piles of slime will become more unpleasant than taking action.  But that day is not today.

Daylight Savings Time: Keeping the crops from burning up in the field

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.

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. 

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.

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.

This is what DLS does to people.  More heart attacks.  More arguments.  More rambling meaningless posts by sleep deprived bloggers.

Isn't it time to do something?  Let me know when you have a plan.

A meditation on rocks

God came to a woman and said, I have a job for you. 

She said, "Of course, I'll do anything." 

 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.

She pulled the wagon and said, "This isn't really hard, are you sure this is what you want me to do?"

God nodded.

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?"

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.

Finally she sat down and cried.  "God, what have you done?  How can you expect me to do ALL of this?"

God said to her, what are you doing?  What is all of this?

She said, "Rocks.  You asked me to take them.  And you asked me to help others."

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.

The woman looked at the wagon with the original rocks.  "Is that all you want me to do?"

God nodded.

The woman looked at God.  "Are you sure?"

I have been thinking about my rocks recently.  I think I've taken on too many. 

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.

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. 

Some are rocks others gave me because they thought I'd be good at carrying them.  They were wrong.

Some are my rocks right now, but will not be forever.

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.

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.

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?

A dream

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.

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.

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.

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."

And she said, "You were here.  You didn't have to ask."

Winnowing

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.

Tax season is not the time to think about the wisdom of that decision.

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. 

But that's not really what I'm thinking about right now. 

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.

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?

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?

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.

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.

Happy Birthday Baby Boy!

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.

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...

Bob wrote a check, glancing at me nervously.  I was 9 days over due, it was bound to happen sometime...

"I need to see two forms of ID," the clerk smacked through Bubblicious.  Bob searched, found them, gave them to her.

Finally, we are loading the car.

"My water broke."

"Let's go directly to the hospital."

"No, let's go home and put up these groceries while I call the doctor."

The next day, Robert was born.  He was beautiful.

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. 

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.

Happy Birthday Robert, I love you.

Copernicus Called

... he said to tell you you're not the center of the universe.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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." 

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. 

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.

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.

And so, this is what Bob and I have to do.

1. We have to tell our son and his wife we are angry.
2. 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.
3. We have to follow through & the next time they are that late, they will find an empty table with nothing but dishes to wash.

I'm sure this will make me miserable for a while.  Oh well, I can't feel too much worse than I do now.

Happy New Year!

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.

Happy New Year!

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.

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. 

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?

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.

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. 

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.

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.

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.

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. 

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

If I win a whimsy:

This is what I'd like.
http://www.artfire.com/ext/shop/product_view/walkinthewoodsllc/246725/winter_wheat___moon_brooch_-_handmade_jewelry/handmade/jewelry/brooches/other

Isn't it beautiful?  I speaks to me. 

What I Made Today: Win a Happy 2012 Whimsy!

What I Made Today: Win a Happy 2012 Whimsy!

This is a great way to start the year... or any day.

New Year's Eve

Oh look: it's New Year's Eve.  Has this been a year or what?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Well, here they are, written out in fine pompous words.  It's up to me now...

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Thanksgiving Happiness

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.  

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.

I am also thankful for all of the wonderful people in my life who make me laugh, give me hugs, help me think.

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'...

I am thankful for my friends, virtual and real.  I am thankful for love without judgement or limits. 

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.

I am thankful for so much, I think I'll stop.  Thank you thank you thank you.

Sunday morning

Friday, Bob and I went to Brookgreen Gardens 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.


It is a garden, and even in the winter, it has lots of happiness potential.

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.


The sculpture and the trees are beautiful.

Diana and her hound... she's here a lot.

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. 

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.

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.

Gabe and Brendon spent the night... and now we are getting ready for church.  I guess I'd better help...

Red sky at night/ red sky in the morning... mixed messages

One:

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.

I love the beach in the winter.

Two:
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.

I love good continuing education seminars.

Three:
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?

I love good seafood at the inlet.

Good news/bad news

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.

Yesterday's blisses were pretty easy to find, I'll just have to narrow it down.

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.

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.

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. 

The color of the day is gray, but I kind of like that. 

On to tax education!

Stretching for Happiness

Yesterday was a day.

A day that makes me stretch to find the happy places.  But they are there.  Sort of.

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. 

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.

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.

Happy moment number one.

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.

I'm in my office about 10 minutes when Gina gets in from her class. 

"Your car sounds funny."

"I noticed it was making a weird noise when I got out."

"Really, how long ago?"

Moment of enlightenment.

I run hobble outside.... yep.  I left my car running.  And thought, I wonder why it's making that sound, like it's still running...

At least I didn't lock the door.

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..."

Number three.  Number three.

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.

I guess that's the point, huh?  Find happiness where you can and embrace it.  Not too hard or it might break...

South Carolina Fall

Spring in South Carolina is one of my favorite days, but I have to say that autumn is the very best.


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.


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.


And that is one thing that made me very happy yesterday.


When I got home, I took Mark to Gamestop 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 kids 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.


And that, believe it or not, is number two.  A trip to Gamestop.


Number three also involves shopping.  I went to Bi-Lo 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.


Number three: a trip to Bi-Lo where we didn't kill each other.

Grace

I 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.

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.

Since it's 7:28 am EST, I'll think about yesterday.

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.

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.

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.

Right now, for today, I am about to have a great (I hope) cup of coffee.  That's a great start.

Where did the time go?

It's been four months since my last post on this blog.  Where did the time go?


Part of it went to (sort of) taking part in the Blogblast4peace countdown at The Matriarch's Corner, another of my blogs. 
Part of it went to Gardens of Time and Sims Social of Facebook. 
Part of it went to catching up at work after a fairly disastrous beginning of the year. 
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.
Part of it went to reading and taking classes at St. Michael & All Angel's Episcopal Church.
Part of it went to my family and their needs and wants and whatevers.
Part of it went to myself: falling apart at 51 & trying to sew myself back together.

I should make a pie chart...

...later

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.

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."

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.

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...)

Anyway, this season from Thanksgiving to New Years Day is about family and community not about money. 

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.

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.

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.

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.

I wonder...