2006 Resolutions

Photo:
Doc B. and me in Amsterdam, March, 1998





I wonder how many web logs will touch on this topic? Since I enjoy blending in with the crowd, I'll add my two cents on the subject! Please add your comments as a way to commit to what you will be resolving to do/be/change/improve in the new year.

It was hard enough to believe that I was turning 40 just over a year ago, but 2006 will be my brother's turn. He'll join me in the over 40 club on June 6th (I'll save you from doing the math and let you in on the fact that he was born on 6/6/66). Not to worry though, "The Omen" does not describe his life and his middle name is far from Damien. "They" say it's harder for men to turn 40 than for women, though I don't know if that's true. I rather reveled in it. Little brother, what are you going to do in 2006 to prepare for turning 40? The blog lines are open. I wonder what it will be like for my mom and dad to have 2 of their 4 in their 40's? Hmmmm....

In keeping with my OCD self, I use my calendar to write down my resolutions for the year. That way I can refer to them often. I usually jot down anything that comes to mind, from travel to health and everywhere in between. I've got the usual "lose 10 pounds" and "eat less popcorn". One would think if I could achieve the latter, I could accomplish the former? At least it's only 10 pounds - I remember when it was 30 or more.

I've also got "don't be such a homebody". I enjoy our home here in Atlanta so much, as well as the friends we have, that I don't always want to willingly leave it all behind. I've also never wanted to leave the pets for too long (worrying issues - more OCD). Nevermind that we have an incredible pet/housesitter, Kathy, who happens to be a vet tech, AND who charges a more than reasonable fee to stay at our house while we are gone. That being said, we already have our week-long trek to Hilton Head, SC set for April. We also have talked with two local friends about a Montana trip in August. Do a little fly fishing, a little biking, perhaps some horseback riding and of course some sightseeing in and around Yellowstone. I also talked to one of my oldest friends (well, she's not old, I've just known her since I was about 22) the other day who lives in Washington, D.C. She reports her "frequent floppers" program is up and running for 2006. According to her description, it provides each guest with a place to flop and a stocked mini-fridge. Knowing my friend for as long as I have, it likely comes with much more than that. The last time Doc. B. and I stayed with her, I think I would have described the accommodations as more of a high-end bed and breakfast! I think I'll take her up on that offer - perhaps over the MLK holiday weekend?

And lastly, though certainly not the least important item on my list, I'm going to try to take care of myself this year. That may sound simple to some of you, but it's not to an obsessive-compulsive, worrisome, "have to make sure everyone else is okay" type like me. A new sage in my life recently reminded me of something very basic. That it's really okay to dote on myself. Doc. B. is fine, my family is fine, my friends are fine - they don't need to be taken care of by me - they can take care of themselves. I need to be taken care of by me.

I haven't decided if I'm ready to share my progress on that last resolution as part of my future bloggin', but stay tuned to find out about the others for sure. And in the meantime, the blue mailbox moments, synchronicities and random thoughts/observations will continue to mount and will be recorded here!

My Three Day Christmas Vacation

I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas, Hanukah or whatever it is you celebrate! I enjoyed my three day weekend and look forward to three more: New Years weekend I get Monday off, the following weekend my sister comes to visit and I take Friday off, and the following weekend is the MLK holiday. Pretty nice way to close out 2005 and begin 2006, I’d say.

We did minimal holiday decorating this year – just the basics without a tree. A few lights were strung on the upper porch railing, wreaths were hung on the entry doors, and stockings were hung by the chimney with care. We started off the holiday season with a winter solstice meditation at our yoga studio. It was my favorite yogi’s last class before he departed for a visit with his family followed by a trip to Thailand for training and vacation. He’ll be back to teaching again on Valentine’s day – my friend Holly’s favorite Hallmark Holiday (this is an inside joke in case she reads this – see, she told me once she didn’t “celebrate” valentine’s day, so I of course try to send her a card every year).

We also visited with Doc. B.’s family on Christmas eve. They live about an hour away from us and we enjoyed our time with them. Doc. B. even got her sister, niece and nephews doing yoga in the living room – it was very cute and we caught some of it on film. Speaking of film, we finally came into the true electronic age and bought a scanner/printer. It can scan pictures, documents and even slides. Doc. B. created a CD of photos from some of her dad’s slides from the 60’s, including his stints in Vietnam. It was very cool to have her father narrate as we all sat in front of the television vs. the slide projector.

We also got some relaxation time in and cooked some good food. I got to talk to all of my family members on Christmas day and a number of friends over the weekend. What more could I ask for!?

More Roses than Raspberries

I have my Earthlink start up page set to give me local news, world news and then news from my hometown of Marshall, Michigan. I couldn't help but click on a topic from the latter entitled "Roses & Raspberries" - I had an idea of what it might be, but was pleasantly suprised when I read it. It's a section of the newspaper where people can write in to thank or bash others. We have something like that here in "The Atlanta Journal and Constitution" (or as some prefer to call it, The Atlanta urinal and constipation) entitled "the vent". But the vent is mainly full of irks and ires - people complaining about virtually everything. Most are pretty funny and are meant to be just that. But this roses and raspberries was chock full of thank you's and only one "raspberry". Here is the link if you want to see what I mean - it's very refreshing!

http://www.battlecreekenquirer.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20051219/OPINION01/512190307/1014

What will you be acknowledged for in 2006 - roses or raspberries?

Happy Anniversary M and D!!!

Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad!!! Hope all of your days involve some relaxation as in this photo!!!

(P.S. I'm having photo technical difficulties - I think if you click on the picture you can see a full view???)

An OCD New Year

I’m the first to admit my obsessive-compulsivity. Just last week I was explaining to some new acquaintances why I love my job. One of the reasons is that it feeds my need for order and organization. A stack of files is delivered to my desk each day and my goal is to move those files from my work station to someone else’s, as quickly, and with as much quality, as I can muster. You better believe that as soon as I completed training, I went back to my cube (so that I could begin thinking inside of my box, of course), and developed systems to help me move those case files. I’ve got it down to a science and have been affectionately dubbed, by one of my fellow trainees, “Ms. Efficiency”. I live for those terms of endearment! It is a term of endearment isn’t it?

But I was reminded again today about how obsessive and compulsive I really am. Doc. B. and I were in Office Depot to pick up a USB port. First of all, taking me into an office depot is like taking an eight year old into a candy store. Am I a freak or what? Wait; don’t answer that. After we found the USB port and I took note of all of the holiday bargains, I realized that holiday bargains means that the New Year is upon us and thus, I must have a new calendar. I have got to find a 2006 weekly organizer NOW! There is less than a month until 1/1/06 and that’s hardly enough time to sit down in a comfy chair with my beloved FranklinCovey 365 day planner mini-portfolio and transfer all of the most important information from 2005 to 2006. But alas, there was a very large lady between my goal and me. Her presence consumed the entire calendar aisle. I hovered for a while and was ready to give up when Doc. B. said “Carrie, just wait. She’ll be gone shortly and you can have the whole aisle to yourself to hunt for the right calendar.” Sometimes it just takes a normal person to put things back into perspective, doesn’t it? I waited patiently and found the calendar that will spend the next twelve months with me.

Looking forward to an OCD year…as I always do….

Holiday Giving and Receiving

If you and your friends/family have not yet decided how to give and receive this year, please consider what my siblings and I are doing.

Each year, we usually draw names for a gift exchange, set a price limit and head out shopping. But this year, one of my sisters came up with a great idea. Instead of doing a gift exchange, we are making contributions to worthy organizations. With the hurricane season draining most people of their available donation money, this may help get some funds to organizations that might otherwise end up with less this year.

For example, Doc B. and I drew the names of my youngest sister and her husband. I asked them for the names of some of their favorite “do good” groups. We will then pick one or two and send some money in their honor. I thought the way my sister listed the non-profits was pretty cute so I hope she doesn’t mind if I share that with you here. And as she made sure to note to me, they are in no particular order:

Michigan Historic Preservation Network (My sister’s favorite)
107 E. Grand River AvenueLansing, MI. 48906Phone: 517-371-8080Fax: 517-371-9090
http://www.mhpn.org/
The Michigan Historic Preservation Network is the largest membership organization in the state dedicated to recognizing and preserving Michigan's rich cultural and architectural heritage.

The Greening of Detroit (My sister and her husband’s favorite)
1418 Michigan Avenue Detroit, Michigan 48216 Phone: 313.237.8733 Fax: 313.237.8737
http://www.greeningofdetroit.com/
The Greening of Detroit exists to improve the quality of life in Detroit by guiding and inspiring the reforestation of Detroit's neighborhoods, boulevards, and parks through tree planting projects and educational programs.

Wonderful Animals Giving Support (Their dog’s favorite)
429 Livernois
Ferndale, MI 48220
(248) 545-3313
http://www.aidsprevention.org/wagsWAGS helps people living with HIV and Aids take care of their pets. WAGS assists clients in keeping, feeding and caring for their companion animals when extended hospital stays, physical exhaustion or daily expenses seem insurmountable. The program, begun in 1999 by the Midwest AIDS Prevention Project, provides low-income clients with pet food, pet supplies, veterinary services and volunteer support.

Yankee Air Museum (My brother-in-law’s favorite)
P.O. Box 590 Belleville, MI 48112-0590
(734) 483-4030
http://www.yankeeairmuseum.org/index.html
A 1941 hangar at Willow Run Airport in Ypsilanti which played a role in the production of nearly 8,700 B-24 'Liberator' bombers became the focal point of our aviation museum. The museum includes flyable examples of historic aircraft as well as static displays and display rooms filled with historic artifacts

So join us and consider this an option this year if you'd like - we won't mind copycats!

Would You Change?

Every now and again, a song hits me for it's lyrics. Usually, I pay no mind to the words but rather it's the tune that draws me in. I guess it's where I am in my life that I'm actually liking a Tracy Chapman song. I can't say that I never enjoyed her music, but typically I couldn't relate to the lyrics or I wasn't sucked in by the catchiness of the melody. Below is an exception. Think of this as a "thought for the day" - if you feel like reading on. (photo of Tracy courtesy of Divastation.com).

"Change" By Tracy Chapman:

If you knew that you would die today,
Saw the face of god and love,
Would you change?

If you knew that love can break your heart
When you're down so low you cannot fall
Would you change?

How bad, how good does it need to get?
How many losses? How much regret?
What chain reaction would cause an effect?
Makes you turn around,
Makes you try to explain,
Makes you forgive and forget,
Makes you change?

If you knew that you would be alone,
Knowing right, being wrong,
Would you change?

If you knew that you would find a truth
That brings up pain that can't be soothed
Would you change?

Are you so upright you can't be bent?
If it comes to blows are you so sure you won't be crawling?
If not for the good,
why risk falling?

If everything you think you know,
Makes your life unbearable,
Would you change?

If you'd broken every rule and vow,
And hard times come to bring you down,
Would you change?

If you knew that you would die today,
If you saw the face of God and love,
Would you change?

http://www.absolutelyrics.com/lyrics/view/tracy_chapman/change/

A Wonderful Life

It's this time of year when the owner of the rights to the movie "It's a Wonderful Life" will allow it to be shown on television at least once. But I don't need to watch it because I have my own wonderful life. And it's at Thanksgiving time when I think about this most. Hmmmm...I think I'll change that this year and move it out of the back of my mind and into the front on an everyday basis...

Thanksgiving was wonderful for me this year. My exceptionally cool parents made the trip from Michigan with a stop in Nashville where they spent the night on a "sleep number bed". They arrived in Atlanta on Wednesday, along with the lawn edger I requested they bring, but had no idea was the size of a small aircraft. They helped Doc B. and me prepare for the following day's binging and imbibing activities. I told my mom she would only have to help make the gravy and my dad he would only have to carve the turkey (with the electric knife they brought at my prompting, of course). They both did a great job and so did Doc B. of course. I think my mom, with a degree in home economics from Michigan State University, enjoyed and approved of the meal we prepared thanks to Alton Brown's recipe for brining the Turkey http://altonbrown.com/. Our friends Holly and Kristen were kind enough to accept our invitation to join us for the Thanksgiving meal. They brought some superb homemade desserts, wonderful stories to tell and a bottle of wine decorated with some of Kristen's original metal artwork (www.hickyjig.com). I missed being together with my whole family, but I knew they were off doing things they enjoy. My baby sister and her husband were working on the remodel of their kitchen, my brother and his wife and kids were at their home in New Jersey with my sister-in-law's mom, and my middle sister was in Florida with her husband and kids. My day was a fun-filled time with friends and family that made me want to keep that thankful feeling going throughout the year.

Actually, hanging out with my parents always brings that out in me and this visit was no exception. I have always felt lucky to have parents who continually work to better themselves and better understand/appreciate their children. The have never discouraged me from doing what makes me happy. Thanks mom and dad!

And what was even more moving was having my parents meet Doc B.'s parents for the very first time. We all drove to Doc B.'s parent's home on Sunday and spent the afternoon sharing lunch and conversation. It was, without a doubt, one of the best Thanksgiving's on record (and by the way, we saw the movie "Walk the Line" - excellent - don't miss it).

I hope everyone who reads this will join me in keeping "thanks" in the forefront each day...

Enough sappy stuff for this moment. I'm back from a computer holiday break and promise to publish at least a posting per week if not more (for those of you chomping at the bit to read more of my rambling about this, that, and my mother...)!

Now and then, the past 20 years...

I’m finding that these past 20 years of music are a bit more difficult to write about. The first 20 years were really all about fun and positive memories related to music while these past 20 years have more heartache attached. Since my intention is not to let myself be too vulnerable on this web log, I’m focusing on the positive memories or just songs that I simply like for no specific reason. Wouldn’t want to get too deep and ruin my reputation or something. But as I reflect, it’s really about looking at my CD collection and realizing there are some artists that have been with me for a very long time…

My after college days began in 1985 with my first real job as an after-school program coordinator for a Hispanic Community Center in Lansing, MI. In order to be cool, I had to pretend to like the music the kids were playing on the boom box – cassette tapes of course. While I know there were many songs from that day, the one that I still occasionally hear is “Secret Lover” by Atlantic Starr.

I left that job in 1986 to move to Battle Creek where I accepted a job in a 28-day drug and alcohol treatment center (yes, I worked there; I was not a resident, contrary to popular belief). Most of the patients were listening to U2, Steve Winwood, Peter Gabriel and George Michael. In fact, that reminds me of a synchronicity. Doc B. and I were listening to Dish Network’s Sirius music a few months back. Peter Gabriel’s “In Your Eyes” came on. I said to Doc. B, “This is one of my all time favorite songs”. I then proceeded to start a list of the songs that came into my head that would be on that all time favorites list. The first song I wrote down was Heart’s “Dog and Butterfly”. If you’ve been reading this Blog, I don’t need to tell you what song played next on the Dish Network!

Moving to Atlanta was a bit of a change in music for me only because of what is rarely heard on the radio here in the south. No more Bob Segar, no more John Cougar Mellencamp (or did he drop the “Cougar”?), and no more of that good Midwestern stuff.

More recently, Doc B. and I have made it a practice to purchase a CD on the vacation trips we take. If we play the CD’s during the trip, we then have a memorable association each time we hear the tunes. For example on a trip to Cape Cod, we bought a Carole King CD. On a trip out west we bought Tori Amos and The Thorns (with Shawn Mullins).

Some adult family memories must be added in here too. Like my baby sister who, for a time, had her CD alarm clock set to wake her to the tune of “Who’s That Lady” by the Isley Brothers. Or both of my sisters and I driving along in the car and “breaking”into a chorus of Joe Jackson’s “Breakin’ us in Two”… or was it “Steppin’ Out”? Either way it was fun.

And the artists that have been with me for virtually my whole adult life, in no particular order, include: Joni Mitchell, U2, Michael Jackson, Seal, Madonna, Heart, The Indigo Girls, k.d. Lang, REM, Sarah McLachlan, and Celine Dion. Pretty interesting how music is such a part of our lives, eh?

Synchronicity Break...

(Photo courtesy of the official Ingrid Bergman web site)

Have no fear, I’m still working on the past 20 years of music in my life but I wanted to interrupt the flow with a fun synchronicity.

I was exchanging e-mails with one of my neighbors last week and one of her responses was that I was trying to “gaslight” her. I had no idea what she was talking about so she reported that “Gaslight” was a 1944 movie in which a husband (Charles Boyer) attempts to drive his wife (Ingrid Bergman) insane. I had never heard of the movie and while I laughed at the reference, I didn’t think about it again.

After a long day of work this past Saturday (yes, I was doing some overtime), I came home to plop myself in front of the TV for the evening. As I was channel surfing, guess what movie was on Turner Classics and set to begin in one minute? You guessed it, “Gaslight”. So that was how I spent my Saturday evening – and it was a great movie nonetheless! Watch it if you get a chance!

"Now and Then" - my first 20 years of music

Now And Then, Carpenters

1. Sing
2. This Masquerade
3. Heather
4. Jambalaya (On The Bayou)
5. I Can't Make Music
6. Yesterday Once More
7. Fun, Fun, Fun
8. The End Of The World
9. Da Doo Ron Ron
10. Deadmen's Curve
11. Johnny Angel
12. The Night Has A Thousand Eyes
13. Our Day Will Come
14. One Fine Day
15. Yesterday Once More (Reprise)

A&M Records Inc. 9 May 1973

The Carpenters 1973 album entitled “Now and Then” was the first music I ever bought for myself. It was with the birthday money I received in 1974 on my 10th birthday when I was in 5th grade at Stone School Elementary in Ann Arbor, MI. This is the same birthday on which my dad woke me up early and told me I really needed to take a bath. This was back when taking a bath was not a good thing and I couldn’t understand why he was making me get up early on my birthday to take one. But boy was I glad when I pulled back the shower curtain to find a brand new red Schwinn 5-speed bike with curly handlebars! As usual, I digress. But it was in 5th grade when music really became an enjoyable part of my life. I do recall having music in our home before then. Like my mom playing Christmas songs on the piano or playing my parents’ Johnny Mathis or Peter, Paul and Mary albums (my dad went to college with Paul). Or playing "Praise the Lord and Pass the Amunition" on the Victrola at my grandparent's cottage in the Adirondack Mountains of New York. But the Carpenters album was mine, all mine.

By 6th grade, Mary Johnston (or was it Kathy Barry?) brought Queen’s "Bohemian Rhapsody" to school on free day. And later that year, Kenny Bishop wowed us all with his rendition of Elton John’s "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" during the school talent show. I think this may have also been the year mom and dad bought our family a juke box and we started buying 45’s like crazy! We also stocked the basement fridge with Town Club soda pop of various flavors.

Later I would go on to Tappan Junior High where Bob Segar also went to school. I recall going to Toronto on an MYF church trip and listening to Electric Light Orchestra virtually the whole trip thanks to Richard Klevgard and Suzie Dunn. I also recall listening to and trading music with my relatives. My oldest cousin introduced me to Foghat and the Doobie Brothers. My uncle introduced me to The Allman Brothers and Kansas (not to mention Cheech and Chong). My step-cousin traded me a Boz Scaggs album for an Eddie Money album.

Then we moved to Marshall and my brother went through his Van Halen stage. And when he was learning to play guitar, he taught me Led Zeppelin's Stairway to Heaven of course. During basketball season, the Albion girls' team introduced me to my first rap song, "Rapper’s Delight" by the Sugar Hill Gang. They knew all of the words. And it was also in Marshall that I was first introduced to musicals. The locals put on wonderful versions of all the classics including one of my all time favorites, Fiddler on the Roof.

I didn’t start going to concerts until I was in college. My first concert was REO Speedwagon at Michigan State University and my second was Diana Ross at Cobo Hall in Detroit. I think she changed outfits at least 10 times during the show.

So you can see how much music played a part of the first 20 years of my life. Stay tuned while I finish collecting my thoughts about the most recent 20 years…

Have iPod, Will Travel MARTA

I love my iPod! Thanks to my former employer’s stock bonus program, I was able to purchase an iPod mini with the options I had to exercise within four months of resignation. For those of you that know how much one of these pocket-sized contraptions costs, you’ll be able to figure out that I did not make very much money on those stock options!

At first I liked the iPod because I could tune out everyone and everything as I was using MARTA. As they say, "It's SMARTA". No more listening to other people’s phone calls and no more listening to the psychotic sock salesman talk to himself. Oh, and for some reason, the outstretched hand attached to “The Watchtower” never reaches toward me when I’m wearing my bright white headphones? If anyone knows why that is, please let me know.

Beyond MARTA though is the glorious time at my desk. I can listen to music while I work and can block out the Musak blaring from the overhead speaker. I once enjoyed many of the songs that I now hear, usually twice, every single day of the week on that overhead speaker. Songs that in the past had wonderful memories for me are now fading away into never never land. Like “That Old Devil Moon” that reminds me of going to see my brother in the play “Finian’s Rainbow”. Or “Unchained Melody” that reminds me of my sister’s wedding. Perhaps when I hear the non-Musak versions of these songs, I’ll snap out of it. Oh wait, I’m supposed to be practicing mindfulness and not allow these things to annoy me.

But the best part of the iPod is that you can either copy your own CD’s or you can download songs from iTunes. Yes, the songs cost $.99 cents each but you can copy just the songs you want vs. having to purchase an entire CD. On my iPod mini, I can shuffle randomly through almost 1000 songs or I can set up play lists of favorites. So if I just feel like listening to jazz today, it’s as simple as setting up a grouping of all of my favorite jazz artists. Stay tuned for my next blog entry to hear more about my favorites and why they get that status…

The Informationless Age

When I decided to leave corporate America for my dream job at SSA, part of the attraction was that I would once again be an individual contributor (a.k.a. peon). No longer would I be responsible for the work, or lack thereof, of others. No more supervision, no more escalated customer no-service complaints, and no more wearing out the carpet between my cubicle and human resources.

What I wasn’t expecting, but with which I am extremely happy, is the lack of telephone and e-mail interaction in my new job. The phones were apparently down yesterday for well over three hours and I wasn’t even aware of it. The one e-mail I received yesterday was to inform me that phone service had been restored.

I kid you not; I have gone days without a single phone call. I could go weeks if it weren’t for an occasional check-in call from Doc. B. I have to look up my phone password just to retrieve that rare voicemail message. At my previous jobs, the phone rang off the hook. And the e-mail was even worse. I think there was a subconscious competition between the leadership staff members to see who could respond to e-mails the fastest.

The office here is also less frenzied and less noisy. Yes, people talk on occasion but for the most part, all I hear is the movement of my own fingers on the computer keyboard and some really bad Muzak in the overhead speakers. This type of music is supposedly regarded as unobtrusive and bland (see Webster’s dictionary). I certainly find it bland but it is by no means unobtrusive when the same songs are played over and over again. I’ll discuss this in more depth when I complete my next web log entry – I know, you can’t wait and are holding your breath.

I have two former co-workers who say they would love to work with me at SSA. I think they see that I’m much more relaxed, a few pounds lighter and generally less stressed (which, by the way, is desserts spelled backwards). But I’ve told them there is no way they would survive here – it would be too subdued for them and their socializing natures. Or perhaps I’m just being selfish – I don’t want anything to ruin my peace and quiet.

Biloxi Mailbox...

I couldn’t resist asking permission to use this photo on my web log. It comes courtesy of Kathy, Doc. B.’s CFO at work. Kathy thinks the picture may have been taken by the insurance company as this mailbox is all that stands on her family’s property in Biloxi – thanks to hurricane Katrina. Where once stood a fantastic vacation home, right on the water, all that remains is a “blue” mailbox.

And speaking of hurricanes, I can’t imagine what it would be like to have the same name as a hurricane? I’ll have to see if Doc. B. will allow me to formally interview her for an official blog posting. And then I’ll have to check in with our neighbor, Rita, to get her take on it. I don’t know anyone named Wilma – does anyone really? Before hurricane Katrina hit, we were in Michigan for a late summer vacation. Doc. B. returned to work the day before the storm only to find her office door boarded up with plywood and her office windows criss-crossed with masking tape. We all laughed out loud at the creativity displayed by her co-workers! Little did any of us know what was to lie ahead for those in the path of hurricane Katrina, or any of the subsequent storms for that matter.

It will certainly be a year to remember. I’m just wondering what the memories will hold for those who were emotionally or physically harmed by the events of these past months? Hopefully they will be able to muster the strength to hold themselves together…

Knowing When to Stop...

From the title of this posting, you might think I'm talking about booze, drugs, or chocolate chip cookies. But no, it's something worse - paint scraping. I know my family will relate to this and perhaps others who have taken on this task rather than doing the smart thing and hiring someone to do it. But me, being my dad's daughter, chose to do this job myself. Seems like I've been scraping paint or wallpaper since I could climb a ladder, so why stop now?

Anyway, the front pillars of our house get the full morning sun and after two years, the paint had begun to blister. This was a clear sign that I needed to break out all of those crazy-shaped tools that you need if you are going to remove all of the loose paint. I started the project last Sunday and have spent most days after work out there. It was calling to me so loudly yesterday (or was it the 85 degree breezy weather that was calling me?), that I left work 2 hours early just to get started again. The problem now is knowing when to stop. I could really say that I'm done now but what if there is one paint chip that I missed? I could be out there scraping through the entire fall season - so here's the plan (this is more for Doc. B.'s benefit since she is probably sick of the paint chip piles all over the porch). The next nice afternoon/day I'll spend it scraping any of the the remaining bits of paint. When the sun goes down or the rain shows up - that's it. Then I'll do the same with the orbital sander - just one nice day to feather all of the scraped areas. Slap some primer on there, caulk, paint with our Sherwin Williams "Roycroft Vellum" and be done with it!

One last thing. Funny how working on your home in the broad daylight can bring out all the experts. I've had one guy tell me that the paint's peeling because "they didn't prime first". Yes, "they" primed first and did a great job of preparing the 1920's wood for the new coat of paint. My neighbor, a painter himself, vouched for me to the critic. He said "hey man, it just gets a lot of sun there." And another neighbor's mother said "you're having to work on the house already?". Yes, we'll be working on this house for as long as we live here - that's why I like old homes - thanks alot Dad :)

The End of the Physical Year...

During the past 8 years in the private sector, I heard phrases such as “year end” or “quarterly report”. So last week I was pleasantly amused to be back in “fiscal year”-land where the mispronunciation, and the title of this entry, put a smile on my face. That smile though is a new thing for me. Misused and mispronounced words used to drive me up a wall; it was worse than fingernails on a chalkboard. Now, however, I’m trying to be more mindful and not take up brain space with annoyances whenever possible. This does not provide George with a free pass – for some reason, the way he says nuclear, among other words (and actions, like that smirk or the way he walks), will simply always make me cringe.

Now let me begin by saying that I know I’m not perfect when it comes to grammar and word use. There are still words that get me every time so I just don’t use them. That being said, I hope you’ll indulge me while I get just a few of the more common irritants off of my chest once and for all. This can be somewhat of a “letting go” process for me. And perhaps you have some that you’d like to add? Feel free to comment!

• Axe instead of ask
• Pacific vs. specific
• Erf or berf for earth and birth
• Gambit instead of gamut as in "the whole gambit"
• Verb-subject agreement issues like the sign on a co-worker's wall that reads "fried food and sugar is the devil"

Being critical like this apparently begins early as witnessed on MARTA a couple of weeks ago. There were two sixth graders from Woodward Academy on the very first train car with me. I usually ride up front as I tend to get “car sick”. Plus, I can watch the MARTA train operator ignore the “no food or drink” signs that are posted every two feet as he drinks his soda fountain beverage, eats his chicken wings, and throws the bones out of the window (okay, the bones out the window only happened once). For those of you who have been in the first car on a MARTA train, you may know that the door between the operator and the passengers is a flimsy piece of metal with gaps all around it that are not sealed. Thus one can also hear the operator chatting on his/her cell phone every now and again. Anyway, we were coming up on the Martin Luther King Memorial station and the operator announced over the intercom “next stop, King Memoria”. The sixth grade girl said to her friend “did she just say ‘Memoria’?” And her friend said “yes, I think she forgot the ‘L’.” Later these two youngsters went on to discuss whether or not the train operator got paid a lot of money because no one else wanted to do that job. Once again, I think that’s a story for another day….

Happy Anniversary Doc. B.!

Photo Courtesy of: Marla Collum, Naubinway, MI

Mindfulness...

Photo of Thich Nhat Hanh: Courtesy of Plum Village Practice Center, France

IAMHOME

Doc. B. talked me into attending a three hour seminar on “mindfulness” this past Sunday. Let me be honest; I really did have an interest in being present (pun intended), but it sounds better to say my arm was twisted right out of the socket. I’m glad that I went. To stay in keeping with one of my Blog purposes, a synchronicity occurred. The seminar facilitator read a poem by Rumi. Keep in mind that I had never heard of Rumi before Doc. B. suggested we give that name to our new cat. I’ll include the specific poem at the end of this posting.

More than the synchronicity though was the content covered during the three hours. For those of you that know me well, you may be aware of my tendency toward worrying. My mind continually “rumi"nates on what has already happened, what might happen, what I should have done and what I should do. I’m guessing that any techniques I can learn to quiet my worries can only make me feel more peaceful. During the seminar, I did acknowledge that letting go of the way my mind has operated since I was very young could be a challenge. Also, why would I want to let go of something that has gotten me this far along in my life? I guess that gets into another item on my long list of psychological issues – control. That could be a long entry in this blog – I’ll spare you that (for now).

I was “worried” that in order to become more mindful, I’d have to meditate. In this attention deficit disorder world, I couldn’t imagine how I could make room for meditation in my life. Now, medication, I could make room for. I’m kidding of course, though the thought has crossed my mind on many occasions. What I found pleasantly surprising is that being mindful is not all about meditation per se. Yes, it’s a large part of it, but it’s not all of it. Think about just simply being more aware of what is going on around you or within you, acknowledging it for what it is and moving on to the next moment or thought. Am I eating and actually tasting each bite of food or am I inhaling it like a tub of popcorn at the over-priced movie theatre? Am I listening to all of the sounds around me or am I only being annoyed by the thumping bass of the music in the car that just drove by while I was trying to enjoy a quiet afternoon on the front porch? Can I learn to welcome it all in - the good, the bad and the somewhere in between? It’s worth a shot.

“The Guest House” by Rumi

This being human is a guesthouse.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness
comes as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight . . .

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

Possible "American Bungalow" magazine submission?

My obsession with home research started shortly after the renovation of our 1920 home. On a beautiful spring afternoon, we were enjoying “beverages” on the front porch when a car pulled up to the curb. The people in the car were smiling and pointing up at the second story porch. We went down to the car to say hello. A sweet older couple beamed as they explained that they had lived in our house in 1950. Their adult son, who was also in the car, was born while they lived in the house. We invited them in and were thrilled to share in their memories of living in our home. Our favorite of their many stories was how they would roll the Victrola out on to the upper porch and play the music of “South Pacific”. Of course we went right out and bought the Soundtrack on CD. Sing it with me: “Bali Ha’i…” or perhaps the better known “I’m gonna’ wash that man right out of my hair…”

Meeting these people brought us closer to our home and neighborhood we love so much. We began to wonder who else had lived in our house. So we headed down to the library to review the City Directories. Sure, I probably could have located this information on the Internet, but that’s no fun. I wanted to research my home the old fashioned way – in the annals and archives of our county and city records buildings. I wanted to turn the yellowed pages, touch the delicate documents and see the flowing handwriting of the record-keepers of the past. In fact, I was having so much fun locally that on a recent pleasure trip to our nation’s Capitol, we stopped in at the National Archives to fuel my new addiction.

Through the city directories at the local library, we were able to trace the residents of our home back to 1938. But then we came to a stumbling block of disappointment. Why did the listings for our house end at 1938 but all of our neighbor’s homes were there clear back to the 1920’s? Was our house really built in the 1920’s? Was it built after our neighbors’ homes? Did we really own a 1920’s home?

We then decided to go to our City Hall to review the tax records. A city employee led us back to a small, cramped records room where he began delicately removing the hand-written tax record ledgers of the 1920’s. He too was unable to locate our address but he had an idea. He asked if we had our lot number, which we did. Mystery solved. Prior to 1938, our house had a different street number!

Armed with our plat number, we headed back to the library city directories. Sure enough, the city directory got us back to the 1920’s. Eventually, we also went to the city real estate archives room and then the census records of the National Archives.

The experience of this hands-on research has forever connected us with our home and our neighborhood. We now know more than we ever expected about both. The owner of a plumbing and heating company lived here first. His wife was the owner of a “Tea Room” for a short time in the early 1930’s. We know they lived here until the early 1940’s when they moved closer to their plumbing and heating company in the city of Atlanta. On a recent drive in downtown Atlanta, we tried to locate the building where their business once operated, but found Centennial Olympic Park in its place.

Our next goal is selfish. We want to see if we can locate any of the people who lived in our home to see if they have photos or other stories they would be willing to share. Wish us luck!

Kitty Saga...

"Rumi"

Great picture of Rumi isn’t it! I wish I could post a picture of Rumi and Maddie together but it ain’t happening any time soon. The introduction of a 15 pound, playful young cat to a 6 pound, “set-in-her-ways”, “enjoyed being an only cat for the first time in her 17 years of life” cat, has had its ups and downs (refer to “Eats, Shoots & Leaves” to determine if my punctuation was even close on that one! http://eatsshootsandleaves.com/esl.html).

We have been following various suggestions for pet introductions, all of which end with a statement that goes something like this: “you may have to face the news that some cats will never get along”. We’ll keep trying but have had to be honest with ourselves and fair to both kitties – we may have to find Rumi another home. In the meantime, if anyone has any great ideas – we are open to any and all creative suggestions.

The Red Cardinal Cup

Thanks to everyone who helped me celebrate my 41st birthday! I enjoyed all of the cards, phone calls and much more! Just wanted to share a story about one of the gifts I received.

I make the coffee in our family, so I was pleasantly surprised to wake up birthday morning (similar to the term “Christmas morning”) to find a card propped up on top of the coffee maker by a retro, Fire King, red cardinal cup. I laughed out loud as I hadn’t thought about a red cardinal cup in months and prior to that, I hadn’t thought about a red cardinal cup in years. Here’s the story.

A few months back, we were thinking of replacing our deck with either a new one or a screened-in porch. We hadn’t settled on the decision so we thought we would start by at least getting some estimates to see how much money we would need to save up. I happened to be at Sam’s Club one day when they were promoting free estimates for decks so I made an appointment for the following Saturday morning. Promptly at 9:30 a.m., a shiny green truck pulls up in our driveway. As the truck door opened, I’m pretty sure the cigarette smoke billowed out along with the driver. A schmoozey older man greeted us with handshakes and a yellow-toothed smile. We walked him to the backyard where we described, in general, what we wanted and explained that we were only looking for estimates. He spent about 5 minutes doing measurements and then asked if we could go inside to talk. We said sure, thinking he just wanted to draft up the estimate on a table or something. Little did we know that we would basically be sitting through what we later termed the “time share deck hard sell”. I am not kidding. This guy not only wanted us to “sign on the dotted line today” or “he could not guarantee the price” but he also asked for a cup of coffee. I reluctantly pulled a mug off of the shelf and filled it with joe and the 4 spoons of sugar he wanted. We finally got this “deck pusher” out of our house and laughed about it for days.

I later told Doc. B. that I had not been using the coffee mug that he used. I told her about how it reminded me of the red cardinal cup from when I was in my 20’s. I used to go up to Northern Michigan and stay at a friend’s parents’ weekend house so we could all go boating. At night we would have bon fires and hang out with the neighbors. Then the next morning we would all have coffee and breakfast together. The coffee mugs all had pictures of birds on them. You know, the blue bird mug, the orange oriole mug, the yellow finch mug, etc… For some reason, no one would drink out of the red cardinal cup. I later found out that one of the neighbors had some kind of gum disease, pyorrhea, and that they always gave that cup to him! I have no idea if he ever realized that he was always given that mug. In any case, I now have my own red cardinal cup and I’ve had coffee from it three mornings in a row. Thanks Doc. B.!

Synchronicity? Here are just a few...

Deepak Chopra - AP photo

I’ve been trying to remember to write down examples of synchronicity. They tend to be like dreams – if you don’t write them down, you forget them. Also, by writing them down, you begin to see how many there really are in your life. You can then look for the meaning in them or simply acknowledge them. Some you’ll probably say “oh, that’s just a coincidence” but others may make you think twice. Or in the case of my first example, it may just be two people who have lived together so long that they begin to think alike (and look alike I might add).

After my dad read my first two blog postings, he e-mailed me about something that had just happened to him. He and my mom are remodeling their home, inside and out. Dad had borrowed a friend’s tractor so he could churn up their entire yard and put down new grass seed. Their hope is a brand new lawn come spring. My mom has always been the lawnmower in the family (I take after her by the way – Doc. B. has never mowed our lawn). I think my mom enjoys being outside and so mowing the lawn is something she finds appealing. Well, right before my dad started up the tractor, he thought to himself: “I wonder if Lucy wants to mow the lawn one last time?” Just as Dad was thinking it, mom said out loud: “maybe I should mow the lawn one last time?” So what do you think – synchronicity or living together for 40+ years?

My aunt and uncle were visiting recently from California. In catching up with my uncle, I learned that he has been playing paddle tennis at Venice Beach several times per week. I had never heard of paddle tennis so he explained it. A few weeks later, I was at the beauty salon catching up on my celebrity trash reading. As I turned the hair-dyed pages of "People" magazine, I came across a photo of Keanu Reeves playing paddle tennis at Venice Beach. The caption read: “Venice Beach, Calif., Aug. 19 – Keanu Reeves hopes for a hit while playing paddle tennis with a friend.” Hmm...maybe I'm supposed to learn how to play this game?
(http://keanuweb.com/en/multimedia/comments_kr6f275c.html)

During that same visit, my aunt, who is an avid reader, gave me a list of books she had read and liked. I’ve already taken her advice on one of them entitled “Good in Bed” by Jennifer Weiner. I laughed out loud and would love to loan the book to anyone who wants to borrow it. Before my aunt recommended this author, I had never heard of her. Now I see that another one of her books, “In Her Shoes”, has been made into a movie with Cameron Diaz http://www.jenniferweiner.com/). Another book that was on my aunt’s list was called “The Kite Runner” (http://www.khaledhosseini.com/). I have not yet read this book, however I was at a Cheryl Wheeler concert last week and she also mentioned how good the book was (http://www.cherylwheeler.com/noframe/bio.html). Of course I will now be going out to get this book.

Remembering Murphy...and turning 41...

Murphy and me.

This Saturday, 9/24/05, is the day I close out the first year of being in my 40’s. Yup, I’ll turn 41. I’m honestly enjoying being 40. However in hindsight, there were a lot of changes that took place over these past 12 months. And you know what they say about change – it causes stress. Needless to say, I’ve got a massage scheduled for my birthday, not to mention a home-cooked meal prepared by my third favorite chef, Faruk. I don’t think he’ll mind being third behind my mom and Doc. B.

9/24/05 also marks four months since our beloved cat, Murphy, passed away. As sad as this was and as much as I miss him, I’m glad I got to enjoy him for 17 years. He had a humble beginning at an adult foster care home in Battle Creek, MI (a home for men with Down syndrome). He started off as a typical Persian cat – handsome and aloof. But he became a big ol' sweetheart in his old age. He took to Doc. B. over the last 8 years of his life and became “her” cat. He’s still in our hearts, in our minds, and in the pictures all over the house.

A couple of weeks ago, we felt ready enough to take in a foster cat named “Marcus”. Doc. B. was out running errands and just happened to be in Pet Smart (not sure why since we were loaded up on litter, food, cat nip, etc…). While there, she found a happy, but sick, Maine Coon kitty. He had a pretty bad upper respiratory infection and a cage was not the place for him to get well. After three cell phone calls from Doc. B., I finally agreed that she could bring him home to take care of him. This was only after I figured out that “Marcus” has the same number of letters as “Murphy”. Yeah, I know – I guess I was looking for a reason to say okay. We’ve nursed him back to health with antibiotics and are very slowly introducing him to Maddie, our other 17 year old kitty. So far, so good. At first we thought we’d at least be making a little bit more room for an animal that needed space after hurricane Katrina. Now, if Maddie accepts him, he’s a new member of the family. Oh, and we’ve changed his name to “Rumi” (see links to the right).

The other major change this year was my employment. After eight years in corporate America, I’m back in the public sector. Being a civil servant suits me; I think it’s in my blood. My mom’s father worked for the State of New York; my mom’s brother worked for the federal government; my dad’s brother, father and grandfather were all Township Clerks; my dad worked for many different municipalities during his career and still does into his retirement; and I’m sure the list goes on. I’ve never stayed in one job more than 3-4 years. I’m hoping that my current position with the Social Security Administration will be the ticket to breaking that record and that I’ll be able to retire a federal employee. I miss my co-workers at my old job, but I sure don’t miss the human resources headaches of being a supervisor. That’s a story for another day.

So, today, I’m just being thankful for all that transpired during my year of being 40; the good, the bad and the somewhere in between….

Why am I doing this?

Over the past few days since I've shared my blog with family and friends, the most common question I get is "what made you want to start a blog?". Well, here's the answer.

Pretty much since day one of my work life (I started at age 15 at McDonalds and have worked almost non-stop since), I have felt like a character on the show "The Office". For those of you that have not seen the show, my youngest sister tells me the BBC version is better than the American version. I find that hard to believe, since I can laugh out loud for an entire half hour of the American version. In any case, I always thought it would be great to write short stories or a novel about work and all of the crazy things that go on in an eight hour day. Then about 10 years ago, I started working in the disability arena. People who can't work anymore due to physical or psychological reasons file for income replacement and I review their applications for benefits. I have always found the things that people say in their applications, as well as the things doctors put in their reports, to be a great read. Each claim folder I pick up has the medical life story of a person within those documents. I always feel like I'm reading a new book each time I open up the next case file in the endless stack on my desk (job security).

Some of the things you read in a disability file are funny. Take for example the office note I read today that said "the patient has not seen a doctor in two years as he only had money for the necessities in life, alcohol and cigarettes". And some of the things you see in a file are very sweet. Like the woman who was explaining what things she could no longer do now that she's disabled (due to blindness). She listed "...drive, sew, knit, see my husband's face...".

In any case, I've always wondered if others might be interested in what I read during my work-day since I find it so mesmerizing. But I've been warned against that. I'm not supposed to write about my co-workers, or my jobs, until after I'm retired and won't risk a potential loss of the employment I so much love. In the meantime, if I'm going to write a book in the future, I'll need some practice and some honest feedback. So I'm opening myself up for both with this blog. Feel free to give it to me straight (or crooked), while I do the practicing part. I can take the feedback. In fact, someone at one of my jobs once said "feedback is the breakfast of champions" - blah, blah, blah...

My first known synchronicity

NOTE: Before you read this - you may want to click on the link to the right entitled "what is synchronicity" unless you already know what the heck it is.

Doc. B. has been reading Deepak Chopra books and listening to his books on tape for a number of years now. I have to admit that his combination of spirituality and science is often over my head. Good thing Doc. B. is a Chemist and can scale it down below layman's terms for me. Or to quote a phrase used by a job applicant during an interview I was conducting, Doc. B. often has to "dumb it down" for me. Correct, we did not hire that guy. Besides, he wouldn't sit up straight in his chair and as I recall, he wasn't wearing socks.

In any case, a couple of years back, Doc. B. and I were taking our first trip to the Grove Park Inn, in Asheville, NC. We were all excited because it was Arts and Crafts weekend and there was a crisp chill in the air - I think we even saw a speck of snow while we were there. During the 3+ hour drive, I was somehow talked into listening to one of Deepak's tapes about synchronicity and synchrodestiny. After most of it was re-explained to me, I was all into it and was ready to start being conscious of the otherwise brushed off coincidences of my life. We spent the rest of the car drive trying to recall events of the past that might actually have been synchronicitous. Like the time we were at the restaurant at Chico Hot Springs in Prey, MT with my mom, dad and youngest sister. My mom asked the server if we might get to see Meg Ryan and Dennis Quaid since they owned a ranch nearby (pre break up of course). The server said he didn't know. But sure enough, just as we were finishing our beef wellington, in walks the Ryan/Quaid crew. It was coincidence then; it's synchronicity now.

Anyway, back to Asheville. So we're walking around the gorgeous Grove Park Inn, taking in all of the breathtaking views, wandering through all of the mission style furniture that we just can't figure out how to afford and Doc. B. gets thirsty. Being the penny pinchers that we are sometimes (I get that trait from my dad), we didn't really want to go to the hotel restaurant and pay big bucks to quench her thirst, so we started to cruise the hotel looking for a drinking fountain. One of the many unique touches found at the Grove Park Inn is that the halls are lined with headshot photos of famous people. I can only guess that each of the well-known celebrities had stayed there at one time or another. So we're meandering the hallways for quite some time when Doc. B. finally spots a drinking fountain. She bends over to sip the water and when she stands up, guess which famous mug is staring back at her - Deepak Chopra's! It's as if he knew we had been listening to his tapes, knew Doc. B. was thirsty, and guided her to the water source!

That pretty much secured my understanding of and belief in the idea of synchronicity. I still enjoy noticing when these kinds of things happen. I haven't much gone beyond the noticing to trying to understand what they mean - but I will. I'm just a bit slower on these spirituality topics. Sometimes the blue mailbox momements are more my speed.

The Story Behind the Blue Mailbox

My partner, Doc. B, and I have been together for quite some time. Almost eight years if I’m to be more precise. And “precise” is precisely the word behind the blue mailbox – or rather a lack of preciseness. Is that even a word? My spellchecker did not catch it, so I’m going to trust and go with it.

For as long as we’ve been together, we still experience those moments where we just don’t connect in our conversational exchanges. These are the moments we have affectionately dubbed “blue mailbox” moments. Here’s why.

We were preparing to sell our home and had been doing the little extra, inexpensive touch-ups that you do before you put the sign in your front yard. Thanks to HGTV, we now have a label for this - “curb appeal”. In any case, one of my jobs was to replace the old, boring, standard, black metal mailbox with a new, snazzy, cedar-covered one. I had spent a great deal of time picking it out, pulling out the old one and installing the new one - complete with Quickcrete® and a level. I was quite proud of myself of course.

Later that weekend we were going out to run errands and as we got in the car, Doc. B. says to me “we need a blue mailbox”. I looked at her incredulously and said “what? I just put up a brand new cedar mailbox and now you want a blue one?” She returned my look of incredulity with one of annoyance – what she wanted was to stop at the post office so she could drop off some letters directly into the postal “blue” mailbox.

The house has long been sold and we continue to have these blue mailbox moments. I expect, and look forward to, many more of them in the years to come.