Making Faces

The whole mystery bowl thing has always disgusted me.  I can't do it.  I pass the torch.  And if no one steps up to the plate, it'll have to wait.  I can't seem to get it out of my head once I look -- and the smell!  Just can't bring myself to do it.

And bugs.  Same way with bugs.  They disgust me. And when I discover one in an unexpected place, I wig out completely.  And it doesn't do to step on it or squish it with a paper towel, because then I can hear their bones break -- and that's even worse.  Ewwwwww!

There was a Scwarzkopf hair color three-ring notebook in our bathroom that I was flipping through, perusing the different shades, and when I opened to the red section, there it was.  A little round armor-like bug was crawling across the page.  Naturally I shriek and hurl the book onto the bathroom floor.  Then, breathing rapidly in panic, I slam the cover shut and jump on top of the notebook.  Yes.  I did.  Jumped a few times.  Yes, I did that too.  The noise from the bulk of the notebook stifled whatever noise might have come from the bug's bones breaking.  Just don't think about that, I said to myself.  Seek and destroy is your mission.

What is wrong with me?

Once when I was little I was looking out the window and I saw a box turtle -- those are the kind that are black and yellow with the patterned design on their shells -- crawling VERY, VERY, VERY SLOWLY -- HARDLY-NOTICEABLE SLOWLY -- through the grass.  I freaked out.  Although I had wanted to go out and play, there was no way I was going out there until that fellow was long gone.

I have phobias.  Yes.

Turtles.  Lizards.  Bugs.  Worms.  Snakes.....Mystery bowls.

Okay.  I can't dwell on those images anymore.  Flipping to something pleasant...IT'S FRIDAY.  YES.  Already looking forward to a glass of wine (or two) after work today.  And we may check out a new (fairly new, new to us) restaurant in town,  The Blue Rooster.  We've heard good reviews.  It looks quaint and inviting.  Frankly, I like the name.

I looked outside a minute ago to check the streets.  No turtles.  But I see that they're glistening wet in the glow of the streetlights.   I had expected the temps to be colder, but when I checked my weather app, I saw that it's rather mild for a winter morning.  32? That's nothin!  Oh, but not too fast.  The home phone just rang and the recording just announced a two-hour delay for school this morning.  That sheen I see on the streets is a foreboding sign of the treacherous surface below.  And I planned on hitting the gym....!  Hmmm.

I'm giving it a shot.  Nice and easy.  Not much traffic at this hour.  I can do this.  Time's a wastin.  So chug-a-lug.  Coffee gone. Time to get this show on the road.  It's shoulders day.

Her Name is Audrey

No, not Hepburn.  I don't KNOW what her last name is, frankly.  Does it matter?  It doesn't to me. She came recommended by someone who knows.  A trusted source.  I'm told she's young.  Pretty. Petite.  Auburn-ish hair.  Lives close to the edge of style trends, yet listens to the customer first.  Has that obvious confidence in her skills, demonstrated in her body language -- what she does, not necessarily what she says.  You gotta like THAT in a person.

Body language is HUGE.  It's EVERYTHING.

I think there are circumstances in which people can have a substantial, far-reaching connection without saying a word.   You begin listening in a far deeper way.  That's when you know you can trust the one you're with.

Anyway.   Back to Audrey.  After doing my research, talking, investigating, asking around, then whittling down my list, Audrey's my girl.  I've made an appointment with her for next Thursday at 4:00.  She'll give me a trim and dimensional highlights.  Let's see what she's got.   I'll be the ultimate judge of THAT.

Something as benign as a hair appointment has me this worked up?  Not really.  Well, yeah, maybe just a little.  I guess this is a woman thing.  Hey, we wanna look fabulous!  And our hair is a sure bet. An elan of confidence.

All set.  And now I wait.

Baby It's (finally) Cold Outside

All last winter I pined not being able to wear typical wintry clothes.  How I love fall and winter fashions, layers of expressions, the icing of eye-catching style.  I had shoved all of my heavier fabrics further and further to the corners of my closet, keeping summer styles up front and center.  It annoyed me.

My entire thirty-minute commute to the office, I'd seldom bother to even turn on the heat in the car, or if I did, it was only for the first five to seven minutes.  Sadly, my collection of winter scarves hung untouched in the closet.  Winter is depressing enough, but for a woman not be able to rock out the fun layers, and boots, and scarves, hats -- well, that's just a bummer.

As I pondered late fall on my Christmas wish list, a wool camel coat, in my mind was the stark reality that it too may hang in my closet, alone and unloved.  A wool coat?  What was I thinking?  Wishful.  I think that's what the holiday beckons within us, right?

But thankfully, since having gotten on HRT -- those letters still taunt me a little -- I can live normally again.  Just this week I wore one of my seasonal favorites, a "wooly" charcoal knit sweater with a huge draping neckline, three-quarter ruched sleeves, and a thin very thin black long-sleeved T under it.  I paired it with charcoal pants and some of my favorite fashion jewelry.   I HADN'T WORN IT IN OVER TWO YEARS.  I was thrilled.  Simple pleasures.  Just let me bundle, baby!  Let me cuddle into my fluffy layers already!  After all ... IT'S WINTER.  IT'S COLD OUTSIDE.

And that camel coat?  Well, let's just say it's feeling loved.  Dress it up, dress it down... rock it out with jeans and boots, glam it up with career clothes.  I wear it to work, to the grocery store, to church -- just about anywhere except to the gym.  Occasionally I'll switch back to my black pea coat, or my red wool pea coat.  But I'm definitely having a long-standing affair with my camel loveliness.

And I'm sleeping at night.

And I can cuddle up capriciously on any given evening in an inviting, overstuffed chair in my favorite charcoal flannel PJ bottoms with a huge beefy hoodie----cozy, carefree, contented.

I'm fighting the statistics.  They say one of HRT's side effects is weight gain.  The LAST thing I need.  And I am fighting harder than ever to keep that from happening.  Hormones are more volatile than ever at this time in my life, and their effects on appetite and metabolism can unleash a lot of havoc.  But I'll keep fighting it.  I'll fight harder.  Sometimes you just have to find the middle ground of balance in life.  And for now, sleeping through the night, making it through a work day in regular clothes without having meltdowns or having to run outside in the freezing temps just to be able to breathe, embracing cuddle weather on those long winter nights.  For now, I'm realizing that I've arrived at that time in my life when now, more than ever, I have learned to appreciate the simplest things in life.  One cold day at a time.

I Need fo Find a New Stylist!

I'm stressed.

I can no longer go to the stylist

who's cut my hair for the last 12 years.

What will I do?

I need a trim and highlights/lowlights

in the next few weeks.

A woman needs complete and total confidence

in her hair stylist.

I've begun quizzing friends,

sending out feelers,

questionnaires.

S.O.S.

I need grief counseling.

Keep calm?

Can't do.

Covered in Snow

January almost gone.

And winter officially arrives.

Waking up and peeking outside.

Covered in snow.

The ground obscured, coated with a delicate white blanket.

A first for this winter season.

Nature's way of turning down the volume knob.

Still.
Silence hangs.

You know, coffee tastes even better with the first snow.

Doesn't it?

The quiet is arresting.

The Nearness of You

Norah Jones.

I'm enchanted here.

It's Friday.

And this is all that needs to be said.

What's a Rootkit?

And I learned a new term last week -- Friday, at the office, while working on a transcript, surfing the internet, checking citations and spellings.  Then poof.  One minute I'm connected (via LAN to my employer's network) and the next I'm not.  I tried rebooting, checking cables, all of it.  Fast-forwarding, the IT people from our Admin Office came down and did some checking and ultimately announced that, yep, I had developed a rootkit.

Now that is a weird word.  It sounds a little vulgar, don't ya think?  What the hell is a ROOTKIT, I ask?

We live and learn.  I spent the weekend googling, running virus scans (I have a paid anti-virus program on my laptop that FAILED to catch and/or DESTROY this thing), trying to quarantine, etc., to no avail.  My laptop is now at the local computer repair shop.  I was assured that he could likely remove it without issue to my files and/or programs.  No guarantees, but likely.

I wait.

Separation anxiety.  My laptop is like my contacts.  I can't function without it.  That's silly.  Of COURSE I can.  No, it's pathetic is what it is.  (shaking head in shame)

So what do I do?  Depend a little more on my trusty iPhone in the meantime.  Not as efficient, but it serves a purpose.  I can't work on transcripts or do office work today, and we don't have court.  So I'll go in today and ... sit?  Stare at the walls?  Read my Kindle.  Or magazines.  Dust and clean out my desk.  The silver lining!

Yesterday was a BAD day for me diet wise.  It started out great, having a great metabolic type workout at the gym.  I was working mainly inner thighs, quads and core work.  High volume, high intensity, burn it baby.  Left there feeling fabulous.  But as the day wore on, my hunger levels shot up to out-of-control levels.  It was actually cravings more than hunger.  I wanted to blame it on something.  Everything should have an explanation.  Increased metabolism?  Not enough sleep?  Too many carbs over the weekend?  Lack of willpower?  Boredom?  Hormone flucs?  I fought it all.day.long.  Into the evening, I struggled with the cravings.  It was not a good day, but it wasn't horrible.  It could have been far worse.  I'm hoping for a better day today.

I downloaded a new app on my phone a couple of days ago, a freebie.  Camera360.  I'm liking the "sketch" filter.  Gives it a washed-out, retro, aged look.  Has a blur filter too, and you can increase or decrease all the filters and settings to get the look you're after.  Very cool.  My first photo, playing around with it.  The details in my jeans.  Kinda cool.  And my Easy Spirits?  They're old and the MOST comfortable shoe I own.  I've even WASHED THEM IN THE WASHING MACHINE.  They feel like house slippers.  I don't care that they're not the hippest shoe on the fashion radar.  I'm in love with them.  They comfort me when I'm missing carbs...and Vitamin D...and my laptop.

Maybe I'll fool around with this app at work today.  Let's hope the computer guy will call with good news.  And let's hope that today is far less of a struggle with staying on plan.

Time to do cardio.  Nice and steady today ... in search of cruise control.

In Honor of Chris Kyle

An email has been circulating about Chris Kyle, the Navy Seal who was horribly murdered, and the details of his funeral. When I read it, I was touched -- and outraged at our White House -- by what I read.  All the more reason why I must see American Sniper. 

We didn't get to go last night -- out to dinner with friends instead, great fun, glad we did -- but I'm hoping to get to the box office in the next week or so for this movie that tells his story.

The email, though, deserves more stage.  So here goes:

Chris Kyle's funeral .......................

You've probably heard of Navy SEAL Chris Kyle, may have read his fascinating autobiography "American Sniper" and / or have seen the just released movie by the same title (starring Bradley Cooper as Chris Kyle). Attached is the bitter sweet "end of the story", which regrettably, but typically, has had precious little media attention.

Some interesting info about SEAL Chris Kyle's funeral last 
year----makes you proud of Texas folks

Our president & attorney general call about Trayvon Martin and 
Ferguson Missouri , but don’t call SEALs or NY policeman families …What in the ******** is going on in “our country”???

This is why America will remain strong. We take care of our own as well as others who may not deserve taking care of. I just wanted to share with you all that out of a horrible tragedy we were blessed by so many people.

Chris Kyle was Derek's teammate through 10 years of training and battle. They both suffer/suffered from PTSD to some extent and took great care of each other because of it. 2006 in Ramadi was horrible for young men that never had any more aggressive physical contact with another human than on a Texas football field.  They lost many friends. Chris became the armed services number #1 sniper of all time. Not something he was happy about, other than the fact that in so doing, he saved a lot of American lives.

Three years ago, his wife Taya asked him to leave the SEAL teams as he had a huge bounty on his head by Al Qaeda. He did and wrote the book "The American Sniper." 100% of the proceeds from the book went to two of the SEAL families who had lost their sons in Iraq .

That was the kind of guy Chris was. He formed a company in Dallas to train military, police and I think firemen as far as protecting themselves in difficult situations. He also formed a foundation to work with military people suffering from PTSD. Chris was a giver not a taker.  He, along with a friend and neighbor, Chad Littlefield, were murdered trying to help a young man that had served six months in Iraq and claimed to have PTSD.

Now I need to tell you about all of the blessings. Southwest Airlines flew in any SEAL and their family from any airport they flew into..free of charge.  The employees donated buddy passes and one lady worked for four days without much of a break to see that it happened.

Volunteers were at both airports in Dallas to drive them to the hotel.   The Marriott Hotel reduced their rates to $45 a night and cleared the hotel for only SEALs and family.

The Midlothian, TX Police Department paid the $45 a night for each room. I would guess there were about 200 people staying at the hotel, 100 of them were SEALs. Two large buses were chartered (an unknown donor paid the bill) to transport people to the different events and they also had a few 
rental cars (donated). The police and secret service were on duty 24 hours during the stay at our hotel.

At the Kyle house, the Texas DPS parked a large motor home in front to block the view from reporters. It remained there the entire five days for the SEALs to congregate in and all to use the restroom so as not to have to go in the house. Taya, their two small children and both sets of parents were staying in the home.

Only a hand full of SEALs went into the home as they had different duties and meetings were held sometimes on a hourly basis. It was a huge coordination of many different events and security. Derek was assigned to be a Pall Bearer, to escort Chris' body when it was transferred from the Midlothian Funeral Home to the Arlington Funeral Home, and to be with Taya. A tough job.  Taya seldom came out of her bedroom. The house was full with people from the church and other family members that would come each day to help. I spent one morning in a bedroom with Chris’ mom and the next morning with 

Chad Littlefield's parents (the other man murdered with Chris). A tough job.

George W Bush and his wife Laura met and talked to everyone on the Seal Team one on one. They went behind closed doors with Taya for quite a while. They had prayer with us all. You can tell when people were sincere and caring.  Nolan Ryan sent his cooking team, a huge grill and lots of steaks, 

chicken and hamburgers. They set up in the front yard and fed people all day long including the 200 SEALs and their families. The next day a local BBQ restaurant set up a buffet in front of the house and fed all once again. Food was plentiful and all were taken care of. The family's church kept those inside the house well fed.

Jerry Jones, the man everyone loves to hate, was a rock star. He made sure that we all were taken care of. His wife and he were just making sure everyone was taken care of….Class... He donated the use of Cowboy Stadium for the services as it was determined that so many wanted to attend.The charter buses transported us to the stadium on Monday at 10:30 am. Every car, bus, motorcycle was searched with bomb dogs and police. I am not sure if kooks were making threats trying to make a name for themselves or if so many SEALs in one place was a security risk, I don't know. We willingly obliged. No purses went into the stadium!

We were taken to The Legends room high up and a large buffet was available. That was for about 300 people. We were growing.A Medal of Honor recipient was there, lots of secret service and 

police and Sarah Palin and her husband. She looked nice, this was a very formal military service.  The service started at 1:00 pm and when we were escorted onto the field I was shocked. We heard that about 10,000 people had come to attend also. They were seated in the stadium seats behind us. It was a beautiful and emotional service.The Bagpipe and drum corps were wonderful and the Texas A&M men's choir stood through the entire service and sang right at the end. We were all in tears.

The next day was the 200-mile procession from Midlothian, TX to Austin for burial. It was a cold, drizzly, windy day, but the people were out. We had dozens of police motorcycles riders, freedom riders, five chartered buses and lots of cars. You had to have a pass to be in the procession and still it was huge. Two helicopters circled the procession with snipers sitting out the side door for protection. It was the longest funeral procession ever in the state of Texas. People were everywhere. The entireroute was shut down ahead of us, the people were lined up on the side of the road the entire way. Firemen were down on one knee, police officers were holding their hats over their hearts, children waving flags, veterans saluting as we went by. Every bridge had fire trucks with large flags displayed from their tall ladders, people all along the entire 200 miles were standing in the cold weather. It was so heartwarming.

Taya rode in the hearse with Chris' body so Derek rode the route with us. I was so grateful to have that time with him.

The service was at Texas National Cemetery. Very few are buried there and you have to apply to get in. It is like people from the Civil War, Medal of Honor winners, a few from the Alamo and all the historical people of Texas. It was a nice service and the Freedom Riders surrounded the outside of the entire cemetery to keep the crazy church people from Kansas that protest at military funerals away from us.

Each SEAL put his Trident (metal SEAL badge) on the top of Chris' casket, one at a time. A lot hit it in with one blow. Derek was the only one to take four taps to put his in and it was almost like he was caressing it as he did it. Another tearful moment.

After the service Governor Rick Perry and his wife, Anita, invited us to the governor's mansion. She stood at the door, greeted each of us individually, and gave each of the SEALs a coin of Texas. She was a sincere, compassionate, and gracious hostess.We were able to tour the ground floor and then went into the garden for beverages and BBQ. So many of the Seal team guys said that after they 

get out they are moving to Texas. They remarked that they had never felt so much love and hospitality. The charter buses then took the guys to the airport to catch their returning flights. Derek just now called and after a 20 hours flight he is back in his spot, in a dangerous land on the other side of the world, protecting America.
We just wanted to share with you, the events of a quite emotional, but 

blessed week.

Punch-line: To this day, no one in the White House has ever acknowledged Chris Kyle!

However, the President can call some sport person and congratulate him 
on announcing to the world that he is gay??

What is happening to our society, our honor and our pride??

Week One Progress Report

It was a week ago today that I begrudgingly stepped onto the scales to assess the damage.  Friday is my "official" weigh in day, even though I will sometimes weigh mid week just to keep tabs.  Down three pounds of holiday bloat -- that first week is ALWAYS the easiest and most rewarding, seeing that jump in the numbers.  

The second week the progress begins to slow slightly, and by the third week, the water weight gone by then, every ounce of fat loss becomes a blood-sweat-and-tears medal of honor.

Monday - Cardio and Callanetics 
Tuesday - Legs/Glutes *
Wednesday - Shoulders Abs *
Thursday - Cardio and Extra Stretching
Friday -  Back and Abs *

* Training days also included 10-20 mins of cardio.

Added to cardio playlist 

love the layered dynamics at 3:30 on the counter!

As I reflect on my success the past five days, I attribute most of it to having meals prepared ahead of time -- no thinking.  Done.  This week I boiled chicken breasts with salt, pepper, rosemary and fresh garlic, letting them slow simmer for an hour after an initial hard boil.  It keeps them moist and flavorful.  After letting them cool, I shredded the chicken and stored it in the frig.  Each evening I packed 4 oz of chicken into two baggies for the next day's meals at the office.  

I prepared one-half the recipe of Oatmeal No-Bakes Protein Bars, and I weighed out 31 g into a baggie, along with 10 almonds; this would be my quick go-to energy pick-me-upper if my BS began dropping while stuck in court -- stashed discreetly in my desk drawer in the courtroom!  

Oatmeal No-Bakes...Yum

I kept a container of fresh spinach in my office frig, allowing me to have greens at each meal.  For complex carbs, I prepared a large dish of rice and had sweet potatoes on hand, weighing out 3-4 oz of SP or 4 oz of rice for each day's office meals.  Evenings were either chicken or tilapia and greens.  

Nighttime snack before bed was either a small serving of cottage cheese with 1 Tbs vanilla whey protein, 1 Tbs light Cool Whip, and 1 tsp flax mixed in; or, 1 scoop red velvet whey protein and 1 tsp nat pb.

It's Friday, and I'll loosen the reins SLIGHTLY.  

My long-awaited indulgence...

well, wine, of course!

If dinner out with friends doesn't work out, I'd like to go see American Sniper. It's a bonanza at the box office this week!  There are four movies showing that I wanna see, but AS would be my first pick.  I love me some Bradley Cooper, and that it's based on a true story of an American hero makes it irresistible.  

Hoping to carve out a bit of time in late afternoon to squeeze in a 20-30 minute nap.  Wintertime and naps go together like Oreos and milk...like cheese and wine...like kisses and hugs.

It's been a good week.  They're predicting mid 50's for tomorrow, and the plan is to build a fire on the patio and take advantage of those milder temps while they last.

Dance...Dance With It...Then You Ramp It Up

I spent the weekend with my middle son and his fiance.  She had invited me to attend the Pittsburgh Bridal Show along with her, her sisters, mom, aunt and best friend.  We had a wonderful time on that Girls Day Out -- all.day.long.  Great memories and fun.  AND I got to spend time with Gavin too while there with them.

It still catches me off guard a bit when I see him, his physique at the best its ever been.  I'm used to seeing the physique of a nose guard, tons of muscle, but lots of bulk along with it.  Year after year.  The Big Guy on the line.  Not now.  Oh, he's massive, all right, but along with that, ripped, sculpted, mean and clean.

I watch him eat.  I watch him move.  Like a lion.  I watch him prepare his food.  I listen with fascination as he shares with me over dinner Friday night the afternoon during the Christmas holiday visit that he and my youngest son went to the shot/discus field at the HS and threw together.  About how he watched his little brother in silence, studying his form, his steps, his timing...throw after throw, they each taking turns throwing shot and discus.  Gavin having thrown at the college level and a master at his sport, he began reviewing with his brother his form, his technique, dissecting every nuance of movement, half second by half second, guiding him, shedding light where there was deficiencies, as Colton eagerly listened, appreciative, soaking it in like a sponge, and willingly following his brother's coaching and input.

"...and at that point you gotta let your body fall into it... flowing... that's it... fall into the movement...dance with it...dance...just dance with it...then ramp up the power ... explode at the apex..."

I smile in admiration, entertained with his keen sense of mastery, and how it electrified him to have explained all the things he'd learned with his younger brother who was following in his footsteps.

I listen as he shares with me his own progress with bodybuilding over the past few months, and how now, just days into his prep for his next show, he's already leaner and stronger than he was towards the end of his first prep last summer.

I open their frig and see it stocked with lean meats, almond milk, fruits, bottled water, veggies.  It's admirably sterile.  I notice how she willingly, lovingly, helps him prepare his meals, her fastidious shopping for his diet's required foods.  The frig is void of junk, void of most anything off plan.  I nod inwardly, galvanized at the sight of it, knowing the impact such way of eating has on how we feel, how we look, how we move.  I remember.  Affirmations. They kept coming.

The holidays were wonderful.  They are meant to be celebrated.  The traditions, the celebrations, the gatherings accompanied by favorite foods, savory and sweet and delectable.  I don't regret any of it.  But although the holidays are over, the allowances and indulgence make for a very slippery slope.  Just this one cookie....just a few crackers, harmless...trying to convince myself that these small indulgences surely can't be hindering my willpower to get back on the healthy wagon.   In denial, I've stayed hidden behind those mental shams, stray crackers unmindfully getting crammed into my mouth...the reckless it's-only-a-bite mentality.

What?  I don't MIND feeling bloated.  It's okay if I succumb to winter laziness. So what if my clothes feel a little tight, I can hide under the roomier clothes for a while longer....so what that an ever-growing segment of my closet has shifted to the "skinny" section.  And waking up tired most mornings?   Must be age.  And it's okay that my joints feel a little stiffer than usual -- you know, it's just the age thing again, hormones.  Nothing I can do about THAT.  Yep.  Damn shame. Pass the crackers, please.

BULLSHIT.

The visit with him was a kick in the head.  A resounding wake up call to get back to what I know will bring me a better quality of life.  Fulfillment.  Contentment and self-confidence.  Well being.

Today is my third day on my quasi "prep" diet -- basically following my prep diet from 2011, but with slight exceptions, namely allowances for lean dairy, wine on Fridays, a whole egg mixed in with my egg whites in the mornings, Protein No-Bakes -- one per day -- at mid morning with coffee. Otherwise, it's basically lean meat, green veggies, rice or sweet potato or oats at three out of five meals, half a grapefruit at breakfast.  Eating every 2.5 to 3 hours.  Sufficient protein at each meal.  Healthy fats.

And in just a little over 48 hours?  I'm already feeling incredible.  My energy has gone out the roof.  Visible tightening in the mirror -- this soon!  The bloat is almost totally gone. And I'm jacked.  I've found my rhythm...falling back into it...dancing...dancing with it.  I have until April 3rd when we leave for Marco Island to drop 10 to 12 lbs.  This 54-year-old woman is gonna rock her bikini. Cover-ups be damned. No more hiding behind the excuse of age.

Energy.  Inspiration.  Motivation.  Drive.  Discipline.  It's all come back.  Will the weekends be the biggest test?  Hell yes.  How bad do I want this?  Well, that's the mantra I'll need to keep repeating in the meantime.

One Breath, One Kiss, One Touch

And who of note entered this world on January 7th?

It's been mentioned in my blog before, but worth an encore because

I absolutely adore his quote.

It's quiet in the house.

I'm listening to Mozart.  It just feels right at the moment.

And my coffee is like a blanket around a shivering heart.

The nose dive in temps begins today.

Slightly concerned, since Zach's flight leaves tomorrow morning,

and he is to catch his next connection in Chicago,

not the balmiest of airports.

We were discussing his visits for this year.

He's in a wedding in June.

He's in a wedding in October,

And he'll be in Gavin's wedding, of course, in ...

well, that's yet to be decided.

She wants mid November.

He's saying he would have to fly in, attend the wedding, 

and fly back the next day if it were held in November.

I looked him in the eye and said,

"Here's the way it is.  Gavin is your brother.

He gets married once in his life, we all hope.

His wedding trumps your teaching.

Find a sub.  Work it out.

You do what you have to do."

He had a group of friends over last night around 7:30

and fixed them a Japanese dish that he'd learned to prepare.

Cabbage, pork, veggies, sauce(s).

Meh.

I'm glad I don't live in Japan.

Our culinary cultures are so drastically different.

It's worked out well for him because he maintains a healthy weight this way.

I wonder if he's feeling the squeeze,

all of his friends getting married.

And now his younger brother.

What's going on in his head...

In his heart...

It remains a mystery.

It's been a good couple of weeks with him.

And now...2015.

Changes.

Beginnings.

I feel as if I'm sitting in a darkened theater,

amid hushed voices,

waiting for this long-awaited film to begin on the big screen in front of me,

without even a clue of what I'm about to see.

Getting High on the Little Things

  

January 6, 1883

Happy Birthday, Kahlil Gibran.

If there's ever a time to capture the value of the little things, it's winter.  A time when daylight is fleeting, nights are longer, colder weather convinces us to grow dormant, cravings and moodiness are rampant, and boredom sets in.

It's the best time to get high on the little things in life.

A sprinkling of the little things in my life lately that have served to refresh my own heart.

• The sweet little five-year-old girl in Children's Church Sunday morning with the precious little bow mouth, pointing at the words on her fill-in-the-blank lesson sheet, stopping at one, tapping her lip with her sweet little finger, then looking up at me with bright innocent eyes, and whispering, "This one's hard," before breaking out into an intoxicating smile.  I wanted to take her home and keep her!
• Sitting at my kitchen table Sunday afternoon, drinking a cup of tea while gazing dreamily at the soft white lights glowing iridescently behind the shears.  The lights will stay.  At least through the end of February.  Their beauty brings me calm.
• Heading out to the grocery store Sunday evening and seeing the streetlight reflecting on the pond at the entrance to our subdivision, a stunning, flickering glow on the navy-like water.  I instinctively slowed... and just stared.  And stared.
• Curled up lazily on the sofa Sunday evening, the phone rings, no one bothers to answer the call (ever) and then hearing the voicemail pick up and a distinct wild-and-crazy shout on the other end, erupting into contagious goofy laughter.  Who else?  Gavin.  Our mischievous joker, ornery from his very first breath.  Totally sent me into uncontrollable giggles.
• The moon, full and bright, passing behind the clouds, casting an array of gorgeous blue and gray and amber on the early morning canvas as I was headed out to the gym Monday morning.
• The mentally unstable, overly gregarious defendant in an orange jumpsuit sitting at counsel table yesterday morning, constantly erupting into inarticulate outbursts (pity the court reporter), and then very loudly and distinctly:  "YOU PISS ME OFF!" -- followed by, "YOUR HONOR, I WANT A NEW LAWYER, I DON'T LIKE HIM NO MORE!" -- referring to the young, helpless-looking lawyer who had just moved for a continuance of his client's trial so that he could be obtain a competency exam.  (Keep it together, T... don't look at ANYONE, just keep typing and breathe.)
• Getting an extra hour of rest this morning after deciding to forego the gym and do 25 mins of cardio on my rickety elliptical in my laundry room.
• Opening an email from my future daughter-in-law, and getting chills from a link she shared with me, showcasing a huge, vintage, bursting-with-charm-and-atmosphere, beyond-amazing brick barn in PA that she's chosen for her wedding venue.  

High on the little things brings a revival of the heart.  

Seeking Happiness in a New Year

During my ritual morning coffee, I had checked emails, read a devotion and scripture, and then logged on to Facebook -- mostly out of some bizarre sense of obligation that I have yet to understand -- and began scrolling down the page, jumping from post to post.  And I subconsciously stopped to read this one post. It was shared by a friend who's seldom on Facebook.  Someone I used to see often but haven't seen in a few years.   Maybe that's why I stopped at her post...maybe I just miss talking to her?  Or maybe it was me thinking that if she's taken the time to say something, it's likely worth reading?

And her post, just a couple of sentences posed in the form of a question -- I won't quote it -- was a bit alarming to me.  She seemed to be reaching out, a cry of sorts, alluding to depression.  I couldn't shake it from my mind.  Been thinking about it all morning.  I'm determined to get in touch with her.  I'd like to think that there is SOMETHING that I could say to her, just by showing up in her life and reaching out to her, that will fill even a part of whatever void she's facing in her life right now.  I think back to when I last saw her...I see her face, her blonde crazy-curly hair, her broad, intoxicating smile, and that infectious giggle.  I would never have suspected her -- of all people -- to be depressed.  Eye opening.

One look around, and we see how easy it is to allow life to pull us down into muck.  To become victimized by disappointments, tragedies, sickness, inequities, struggles.  No one is immune.  But knowing how to best deal with "darkness" is the key, I think.

I'm haunted by the tragedy of Robin Williams having taken his life.  Could his life have been spared had people known what mental torment he was going through?  Such a waste.  Very sad.

When I arrived at the office, I clicked on my bookmark for ThinkExist Quotes.  It opened to the page showcasing famous people's birthdays for today's date. And how odd, having been a little preoccupied with my friend's FB post all morning, that my eyes would zoom in on a quote by William Lyon Phelps, an American educator, journalist and professor, born on January 2, 1865.  I read his quote over and over, mesmerized by his thought-provoking words of wisdom.

The happiest people.  What makes them so?  It's true, what he said.  Lasting and meaningful happiness involves the mind and blossoms most fully when we spend our days immersed in edification  and mental development.  Happiness comes not from what we have, or don't have.  Fortunes or misfortunes.  It comes when we choose to focus on things which bring us joy, conversations and interaction with others, laughter, simple pleasures, the insatiable thirst for knowledge and wisdom and enlightenment.  This makes perfect sense to me.

I think of when I'm reading a good book or a good article of interest.  I'm not focusing on things that happen to be screwed up in my life.  Or when I'm listening to good music, how it makes me feel, that mental escape to my HAPPY place.  Or when I'm captivated in an engaging conversation with a friend or acquaintance or co-worker or colleague.  These are the times I'm happiest.

There will always be that human tendency to slip into the darkness when the sun isn't shining as brightly as we'd like it to.  But shifting the focus, filling our minds with knowledge, taking the time to appreciate the little things around us, taking nothing for granted, listening and dancing to the music, engaging our minds with books and conversations and with others who RAISE US UP.

Too simplistic?  I don't really think so.

The second day of a new year.  Yep.  I'm pretty sure it was meant for me to click onto my ThinkExist bookmark today.  Thank you -- and happy birthday! -- William Lyon Phelps, for calling my attention to this simple lesson about happiness.  

  

She Said Yes

It was December 29th.

I'd waited all day for the call.

Or a text.

Nothing.

The ring was to have arrived in time for Christmas.

It was to be her Christmas present,

his proposal planned for Christmas Day evening

after she arrived home from work.

But it didn't arrive on time.

And not the day after.

Nor the next day.

I knew how disappointed he was.

What was she thinking?

No gifts from her lover on Christmas?

Late that night I heard my cell phone ring,

awaking me from slumber.

And my heart began to race with excitement.

And I smiled.

Because I knew.

I had had to keep quiet for so long.

Sworn to secrecy.

ME:  Hello? (trying to sound alert)

HER:  I'M GOING TO BE THE NEW MRS. D!

Her excitement and giddiness squeezed my heart.

And we laughed

and cried a little

and laughed some more.

I could hear him laughing in the background.

And on she talked,

her voice soaring, song-like.

There was a punctuation of congratulations 

amid the exchanges of chatter

and laughter

and excitement.

And she loved it,

her ring.

"It's BEAUTIFUL!  He knew exactly what I wanted."

I know.

As I said goodbye, I told her that I loved her.

And she said, "I love you too, Mom."

And when I ended the call, I laid back on my pillow

and penned this love note to them in my head,

and then on a note pad.

And I sent it to them via text.

And with a sigh, I laid my head back down on my pillow,

and silent tears fell...

There would be no sleeping for me tonight.

My son had found the love of his life.

And there was going to be a wedding.

And my life -- all our lives -- would never be the same.