[Part of] Life

Although it's October,

the summer is holding on desperately,

selfishly.

I wanted cooler temps when I arrived at the lake.

I wanted a fire.

And a glass of wine.

I wanted to see a little color.

And I whined for a couple of days 

while Mother Nature

ruled with high humidity and a middle 90's heat index.

In October???

And then I gave in to the lake.

I should have known I'd find solace there.

A breeze.

Air and balance and quietude.

Wow.

Was it ever peaceful!

I pretty much had the lake to myself.

Just me, the birds, and a butterfly.

And my speaker...

playing Neil Young's Harvest Moon.

Oh, my.

Stop whining, T.

Count your blessings.

Lake life is awesome!

Project:  Painted my wicker chairs driftwood.  Love.

Light a candle...just...wherever. 

Inside, outside, all around.

Eleventh Hour Memoir

I can't even remember the last time I posted on my blog.  Not that it matters.  I basically am writing to myself.  But, see, I believe in the cathartic bliss that comes from spilling your thoughts onto paper a journal.  So here goes.  I'll start and end with the things that make my heart happy these days.

Ray LaMontagne.  LaMontagne???  How's that for a sexy name?  And WHERE has HE been all my life, and why am I just now discovering him.  His style wraps my heart into one big hug.  And isn't he gorgeous?  I have listened to this man's music all day.  I have Amazon Prime, and the Amazon Music Player, and after hearing one of his songs on Pandora while painting (and sipping wine) yesterday evening -- I can't even remember which song it was that I heard now -- I pretty much jerked to attention, glancing to see:  Okay, WHO is THAT VOICE!!!  And to my surprise and salivating delight, his music was included on Prime!  How about THAT!

I spent the next several minutes downloading song after song after song ... Oh. How. I.  Love. His. Music.

And to anybody who stumbles upon this blog?  Just take a listen.  Get lost in THIS.

That's when you need someone

Someone that you can call on.

Let it be me.

Urge to Purge

purge

verb

1.  to rid of impure or undesirable elements.

From Latin purgare, "cleanse, make clean; purify," especially of the body, "free from what is superfluous; remove, clear away."

I've been doing a lot of this lately.  Closets. Drawers.  Office.  Attic.  Garage.  
Countless -- yes, I've truly lost count -- trips to Goodwill.  (The Goodwill Guy said to me recently, "Is there anything left in your house?")

It's amazing how a person can accumulate so much STUFF.  Why do we think we need to keep things that serve no purpose?  Or maybe it's because we're busy people and we don't INTEND to keep it, we just don't have time  -- or take the time -- to sit down and sift through and throw out the crap.  And you gotta sift.  You really do.  Keepers are amid the crap.  Never throw out the Keepers.  

I came across a shoe box that was on top of one of the laundry room cabinets (why???  why there???) that had a bunch of my son's elementary school papers, drawings, notes from teachers.  Cracked me up ... and squeezed my heartstrings.  Keepers!

"Gavin feels the rules don't apply to him..."

That's my Gavin!

Oh.  This is "purge" in steno, by the way.  Yep.  Lots of extra letters, but that's how steno works.  (I love writing in code!  Nobody knows what I'm saying.  Unless you're a court reporter, of course.)

A friend once shared a snapshot of a license plate in NY

that read simply "fuck off" in steno.

But no one would have a clue that's what it said.

Too funny!  I wonder if that's taken in my state?

We court reporters love our code!

And so today is another day of purging.  Little piles at a time.  Whittling away at the excess.

REMOVE WHAT IS SUPERFLUOUS 

I've been collecting boxes a little at a time.  I have already taken out three or four boxes of stuff from my office, and I've filled countless garbage cans of CRAP from my office -- old files, correspondence, outdated supplies and equipment.  My last day as an official court reporter for my state is June 30th.  I'll take a couple of weeks off over the Fourth of July and then start my freelancing full time the middle of July.  I'm very excited about this new chapter.

This is a big year.  Lots of changes taking place.  I've been working very hard at preparing for this switch, official to freelance.  It's similar, but different.  I practice every day on my steno machine, perfecting my writing, memorizing phrases and shortcuts, working on increasing my speed, writing cleaner and more efficiently.  It's a process.  It never really stops.  It's what court reporters do, the ones who are most passionate about their profession.  We never stop learning.  There will always be room for improvement.  And the more skilled we become, the more lucrative our job opportunities.  Now that's a challenge worth my time! And that's my plan.  I'm in this deep.  

That R word?  Nah.  Retirement from my current employer after 34.5 years?  Yes.  But I have no plans of slowing down.  (Slowing down is written SLOUNG in steno by the way, one single stroke of the keys, BAM,  -- yep, I'm constantly thinking in steno.  I think I dream in steno!)   I've never been so passionate about my career as I have been these last several months.

Chapter Two awaits.

Turn the Music Up

Winter hanging on too long for ya?

Turn the music up.

Music that takes you to a place you'd rather be...

Or a memory...

The mind-body escape.

Like this music.

I was listening to my Amazon playlist this morning,

getting ready for work.

And Michael Bolton's

Georgia on My Mind

comes on.

My mind wanders back to many (many) years ago

when I'd attended one of his concerts.

He still had long hair then.

And he was wearing a sleeveless denim vest

and skin-tight jeans.

That song may rightfully belong to Ray Charles,

but I'm tellin' ya...

MB seduces the hell out of those lyrics

with his signature gravelly tenor voice.

My lovely escape this morning.

The music does it for me every time.

Saudade

Forever a word nerd.

For the Record, I'm Ready for My Exodus!

I'm only months away now from Chapter Two.  I'm beside myself with excitement...and I am incredibly blessed.  Not a day goes by that I don't thank God for His grace, mercy, blessings.

I've been gearing up, preparing myself for the transition from official to freelance.  In addition to the flexibility that freelancing offers -- working as much or as little as I want to -- I will be meeting new faces, traveling in new places, exposed to a whole new world of court reporting.  I've been practicing, reading everything I can get my hands on.  Having joined some professional groups for insight and inspiration, I feel as if I've begun my career all over again.  My passion is alive, fresh.  Exciting. I'm so eager to learn, to travel, to get to know the clientele...working as an independent contractor in new surroundings, a bigger city, meeting professionals and making new friends and business contacts.  I made a trip to Charlotte recently to introduce and market myself to a large and reputable reporting firm there.  It was a delightful visit, very welcoming.  Reporting on a much larger scale than I'm used to.  So much to learn!  And I can't wait.

And so.  Here I stand, squirming, anxiously preparing for my exodus.

I often wonder if the lake will lose its magic, its appeal, once I move there permanently?

A neighbor I met just after having bought the lake house told me something I'll never forget.  After introducing herself to me, welcoming me to the neighborhood/community, her beautiful smile and contagious southern charm hypnotizing me as she sat arranging flowers on that spring day ... I can still hear her words...

"... you know, we've lived here over 15 years now, and every morning I wake up and look out across the lake and the beauty all around me, and I still feel like I'm on vacation...I've just never gotten over that feeling!  Honestly, it feels like you're on perpetual vacation...so relaxing...so beautiful...you'll understand what I'm talking about ... just wait ... I never want to leave this place..."

a look at lakeside in winter...

She's an Alpha

Her name is Phelan, an Alaskan Malamute.

And she's such an ALL ABOUT ME dog.   The Alpha mentality!

But you can't help but love her.

She's the closest thing to a live, gigantic teddy bear that I'll ever have the pleasure of hugging.

Stronger than even SHE knows she is!  Energy out the roof.  Never make the mistake of getting in her way...she wins.   Every.single.time.

And ...

She's my first granddaughter  grand-dog!