Category Archives: gratitude

The first step is admitting you have a problem.

cart before

I admit it. I like to find things in other people’s trash.  Not deep in the trash under banana peels or dirty diapers or anything, mind you (I am still a germaphobe), but trash that’s visible from my car as I drive by.

I like to think of it as high-end dumpster diving. Or re-purposing of perfectly salvageable items on their way to the dump via the neighborhood trash truck. Items for which it causes me physical pain to think about them being hoisted up and over the back of the garbage truck cab and tossed into that teetering back heap in pieces.

These dumpster dive treasures call my name and wave me down as I drive by, shouting out to me “Hey, hey you…  Here I am… Yes, me! Isn’t this a shame?  You can’t let this happen, can you?”  They wait for me to slowly turn my car around to take a closer look and that’s when if they had a tail it would certainly start wagging … and in the car they go.

This is why my kids and MacGyver don’t even flinch when once every few months they see a new piece of very questionable looking furniture in the garage.  They know the drill.

Maybe I’m a hoarder, It may be genetic.  But I like to think of it as being a rescuer.

So, when I was driving through my neighborhood a couple of weeks ago and saw this old tea cart out on the curb by someone’s trash cans, I had to stop and perform a rescue mission. Yes, I was already cutting it close for my appointment, but I could hear the roar of the trash truck getting closer and her demise was imminent.

She had badly chipped veneer (under a perfectly quaint and in-tact wood framed glass tray) and she was missing wheels (which the owner was kind enough to set out for the likely rescuer) and she was was scratched, crooked and unsteady as hell.  In the back of my 4Runner she went.   

cart wheel

MacGyver grinned and shook his head as I later pleaded this poor little tea cart’s case and asked for his help in attaching the wheels and leveling her out.  ‘She can make it,’ I explained.

And so it was.  Here are the steps of this ‘little cart-that-could’s rebirth:

1. MacGyver reattached the little wheels under the cart. cart level

2. She was still unsteady due to the odd wheel configuration, so MacGyver worked to level her by adding spacers above her smaller wheels.  I was the assisting nurse, keeping watch on her vitals by watching for the little bubble in the little window of the metal level.

3. Then came the spray paint.  Oh, the glorious spray paint.  I can change the world with a few cans of spray paint.

cart paint

4. I taped and sanded her tray and on the front lawn where I still had good sunlight (my neighbors think I’m nuts) I gave it a few shots of a brilliant, deep red to test out the color.  She started to smile instantly.

5. Then the next day after the glue dried on the little wheels, this little cart got a thorough sanding and a coat of all-over red, except for her big, center wheels which I spray painted black as if they were the black patent shoes she needed for her new, red dress.cart red

6. Her makeover was complete.  She turned out so beautiful in the end that we decided to let her live with us on a permanent basis.  She has found a home in my dining room.

Despite her questionable background,  this little tea cart has made a lovely addition to our family and she seems to be working through her abandonment issues.

It turns out that you just never know what you might find on someone else’s curb on trash day.  And what it could become.  And that, my friends, is the fun of it.

Have you ever dumpster-dived?

What I did at the theater while no one was watching.

Theater photo by Petermilli (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Theater photo by Petermilli (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

The intermission bell chimed.  My heart raced.  There I was.  In my perfectly refined Ann Taylor get-up for the theater, with pearls and heels on to boot. I had moments left to get a beverage with as much caffeine as humanly possible and return to my seat.  The line I had chosen  at the intermission bar had been moving painfully slow. (Why do I always pick the slowest line?)

I quickly scanned the drink list signage for a coffee beverage.  No, no… it couldn’t be.  Surely they have coffee, surely they do.  It was a semi code blue situation.  I needed caffeine and I needed it stat, like in an intravenous kind of way. Otherwise I was simply not going to make it through the second act.

Before I realized there were no coffee options available I saw a clear countertop refrigerator full of tall, silver, red and blue Red Bull cans.  Who in the world would drink Red Bull at the theater, I thought to myself almost laughing at the irony as I scanned for a coffee pot anywhere in sight.  Red Bull at the theater just seemed wrong.

But I had been dozing in and out of consciousness  (like my Grandmother did in Star Wars I when I was little for God’s sake) throughout the entire first act of a wonderful live performance.  I was with two girlfriends the other night, one of whom was nice enough to invite me and let me use her spare second row, center ticket to see Peter and the Starcatcher – a wonderful show with an uber talented (and handsome I might add) cast, a great story line, a terrific script and wonderful stagecraft.  Who could possibly fall asleep on the SECOND row where I could clearly see the spit coming out of the actors mouths when they spoke?  Grandma Johnson… and me apparently.

can

I’m almost positive that I caught each one of my friends glancing my way at different times during my short, startled awake spurts and noticing me fighting to stay awake.  Or maybe I dreamt that. I was playing it cool, and told myself that I probably wasn’t drooling or making snortish, gargling snore sounds each time I woke up, so they probably didn’t notice.  And hopefully I didn’t lay my head on the shoulder of the random woman to my right (did that on a plane once).

I had no choice.  As I reached the bartender stand, my fears of no coffee were confirmed.   The Red Bulls on those cans stared me squarely in the eyes with little smirks on their faces.  So I quietly ordered a Red Bull.  “Sugar free or regular?” the gal asked.  I didn’t know there were different versions and didn’t care.  I murmured to her that I would take the sugar free Red Bull and a water as I handed her cash like I was making a drug deal.  She gave me a little cup with a lid (luckily no sharpie) and explained to me that under no circumstances could I open the big can before I was sitting down in my  theater seat since such a massive vessel of caffeine would not all fit in that little cup. ( I assume this was so that it wouldn’t spill all the way down the stairs to my seat, which was smart on her part considering she didn’t even know my history of similar episodes. )  She almost made me pinky swear that I completely understood her as she looked at me sternly to confirm my acceptance of this rule.

But there was no way in hell I was going to carry a huge, obnoxious Red Bull can into that theater and pop open the can just as the show was about to re-start.  I would have had to scratch my crotch afterwards or something. Plus, it didn’t go with my great outfit and pearls, or the ambiance of the entire evening.  Kind of like when you see a bride in a beautiful wedding gown holding a Bud Light.

But I was desperate.  I needed a hit.

The bell chimed again.  I quickly scurried over to a corner behind a column where the bartender gal couldn’t see me and poured a third of the can into my little lidded cup.   I quickly swigged some of it down and did a quick refill.   All I needed to complete this class-act picture was a cigarette package rolled up at the top of my Ann Taylor sleeve and a chain wallet hooked to the belt loop of my cute leopard capri pants.

That would have to do.  I took a deep breath and stretched my eye sockets as widely as I could and headed back in.

Luckily the caffeine hit my bloodstream quickly as I’m sure Red Bull is intended and I was able to thoroughly enjoy the second act.  I blame my exhaustion on a crazy work week, a first week of school for the kids with tons of forms to sign and hellish school supply shopping trips, that face punch gal incident way earlier that same morning and a little bit of that wine headache that might have been still lingering.  I was a zombie, but in a cute leopard capri pants.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.  and luckily it worked.

The best part?  I don’t even think I drooled on anyone during the second act.

Why I’m glad I didn’t punch anyone in the face today.

apalachicolaFor one thing, I’m sure I could have been arrested for assault and battery or something.

And the lawyer fees and such would be quite expensive and the whole process would have been quite a hassle  – making the punch hardly worth it.

Plus, I would have hurt my hand and I would have been embarrassed for losing my temper so easily.

Here’s the rundown of what happened:

I actually worked out this morning.  This is HUGE for me as I am out of shape and horrible about regular exercise.  And WAY out of practice.  And because my head was hurting after a tad too much wine last night with a friend.  Also because it’s been a hell of a last couple of weeks and I am fried.

But because I told my dear friend Yoda that I would go today, I sucked it up and went.  She takes me to her workout group sometimes with a trainer who leads a group of about five or six ladies for workouts on Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings.  Great group of people.  Except for the one I wanted to punch in the face today.  I know, I know… I sound so mean and severe.  Which is why you need more background.

So within the first 20 minutes, face punch gal corrects me on how I pronounced a place that I have been to many times, the Apalachicola area of Florida, which happened to come up in a conversation I was having with other people. She calls me out in front of the group and tells me that I mispronounced it  and proceeds to tell me slowly and loudly how Apalachicola is “actually pronounced.”  (I know, who does this?)  She tells me “there is no L at the end of Apalachicola.”  I irritatingly waved her off because I didn’t want to argue over something so ridiculous.  First off, there is an L in the end of Apalachicola.  Secondly, I’m a journalism major who strives to spell and pronounce things correctly, because I usually know how to.  Thirdly, who the heck cares if I even did mispronounce it, and why did she feel the need to correct me (wrongly at that) when I wasn’t even speaking to her?  I know this sounds petty, but It gets better.

For the next part of the workout, I got stuck on the mat next to face punch gal for several sets of exercises.  She proceeds to correct the way I was doing at least half of the exercises.  She even comments to the trainer that I wasn’t feeling the burn like she was since I was doing one of  the exercises incorrectly the whole time.  For real.  It gets even better.  And I hadn’t hit her yet.

Next, as she is seeing me struggle with keeping up with murderous abs exercises and hearing me actually grunt a little as I struggled to finish  (it was toward the end of our hour and remember, I am not in shape), I hear her ask the trainer why our workout was so easy today.  She confirmed that it would be harder on Friday and then asked if she could do some dead lifts with weights to make up for how easy the workout was.

It was right about that moment when if I could have physically mustered the strength to, I swear to you I wanted to punch her in the face repeatedly (metaphorically speaking of course).

I know I shouldn’t let people like this get to me, and I realize my wine headache probably wasn’t helping, but I don’t think people with such limited tact and social skills should be allowed to leave their houses, ever.

Thanks for your patience with my little face-punch rant, I know this was rather off-theme for me since I try to have some kind of grateful or positive slant to my posts as much as possible.

But some days, I’m just glad I didn’t punch anyone in the face.

Balancing the edge.

IMG_4396 What keeps me on the right side of the edge?  Calms me when the apprehension of a new school year wrought with challenges starts gnawing away at me?  Helps me breathe more slowly and fully when I’m feeling worried, overwhelmed or frustrated with humanity?

Monkey Dog does all this for me.  If you’ve been reading my blog for long, this is no shocker.  She is my muse.  And her therapy abilities rival her monkey counter-surfing abilities, believe it or not.

Her office where this therapy takes place is in this little corner of my patio where I can listen to the sounds of the small song birds at my nearby feeder which hangs on my favorite tree, with her by my side.  Lucky for me, she requires no copay.

This is what keeps me from getting too close to the edge.

And why I am truly grateful.

Word Press Daily Prompt:  On the Edge. http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/08/19/daily-prompt-activity/

“Sorry honey, I think you have the wrong mother.”

IMG_3784

Little Red Riding Hood’s coat now hangs in her closet.

Before my long weekend get-away, I visited Little Red Riding Hood (aka Mom) in her dementia facility home last week.

My usual feelings of dread – and the pit in my stomach – had been building up as I anticipated my visit. I knew that once I saw her, the pit in my stomach would begin to dissipate into the smaller, more manageable pit that’s taken up permanent residence. Sweet Clone (my youngest son) offered to accompany me.  Having someone with me every now and then takes a little of the sting out of my visits.

We arrived and I punched in the code at the front door, where a much different reality exists beyond the threshold.  This is where I take a deep breath and swallow my trepidation for how the visit may unfold.

These days Little Red Riding Hood doesn’t recognize me. For the last two years she seemed to at least realize that I was someone she knew and someone who was nice to her.  Now it takes more effort to briefly catch her gaze once I track her down.  She’s usually rearranging silverware or dusting a table with a tissue.  Her head hangs low but she walks with surprising agility.

This time as we walked into her area of the facility, her roommate Amy (who scares me a little because she always looks angry even though I don’t think she is), was holding Mom’s arm and leading her toward me.  I just knew she was going to tell me that something was wrong.  (Mom has been irritating some of the other residents lately walking into their rooms and taking her shoes off to stand and gaze at them. I can understand their frustration  even if it isn’t that uncommon around there.)

Instead and to my surprise, after I said hi to Mom and tried to get her attention, Amy held Mom’s arm as if protecting her and told me that I must have the wrong mother.  That Mom couldn’t be my mother because she was actually her daughter.  She inquired about my last name as if to double check but then kept walking with Mom.

Christian, the sweet caregiver, told Mom’s roomate that I was indeed Mom’s daughter and wanted to visit.  She argued again, told me “Sorry, honey, you’ve got the wrong mother. It just can’t be.”  She explained that Mom was her daughter, and that she had not been herself this week, and therefore she needed to be taken care of.  And it was her job to do it.

I looked to Christian and nodded with a smile to let him know it was okay.  I softly touched Amy on the shoulder and thanked her for being so sweet and caring.  Her wide, smoky blue eyes met with mine  and her facial expression lightened, as if she suddenly realized I wasn’t going to take Mom away from her.

After chatting with Christian about how Mom was doing, checking her room and leaving her favorite Russell Stover’s Assorted Creams on her little bedside table, it was time to say goodbye.candy

I caught up with them again and Amy was still holding Mom’s arm lovingly as they strolled around the facility.  I stopped them to give Mom the longest and most loving embrace possible and I told her that I loved her.  I almost, for a second, felt the old her hugging me back.  Or maybe I was trying to wish it to happen.

I leaned down to capture her attention and tell her again how much I loved her.  I got a brief smile but she kept on walking.

Amy looked at me and smiled like she felt badly for me, and told me not to worry, that Mom “just hadn’t been herself lately.”

As we left, I smiled and was grateful that someone new was also watching out for my Little Red Riding Hood.

Musings from Madrid.

IMG_0034After my last accidental photo post (mobile WordPress and I don’t get along so well), I thought I would report some observations from Madrid as I make my way back to the states.

Some highlights from an Americano after a full week in Madrid:

Sounds of motorcycles, mopeds, horns and sirens can actually be soothing if you give it a minute.

IMG_0035

7 out of 10 people on the streets seem to smoke, anywhere.

Scarves can make any outfit fashionable. Especially in Madrid. But then Madrilènes could make trash bag dresses look cool.

The architecture is magnificent, with myriad towering steeples, daunting domes and intricate corbels – everywhere..

The eating schedule is a challenge to get the hang of. However if you say ‘tapa,’ you can be fed any time.

Don’t even think about ordering a martini in Madrid, unless you’re at an Americanized hotel bar. And what’s the fun in that anyway.

Remixes of pop American music from the seventies and eighties streamed throughout retail stores and one taxi ride treated me with Staying Alive by the Bee Gees. I wondered if they had an American flag button on the dashboard and tapped it when they saw us coming.

Politely attempting to speak the native tongue often is rewarded with a gracious welcome. Calm politeness can get you far in any city.

Drinking, of beer and wine especially, takes place all day. Seems to be five o’clock all the time. In most places beer choices were ‘large or small’ rather than our overkill assortment of brewery concoctions.

Servers never walk away from your restaurant table with your credit card, instead bringing a device to the table, which makes much more sense when it comes to security.

20130518-182722.jpg

If you can figure out the metro (subway) on your own as I did, high-five yourself. It’s a maze down there that makes Manhattan subways look like a walk to your mailbox.

Beautiful iron balconies, balconies and more balconies everywhere you look.

Old Madrid is my favorite area, overflowing with rich history at every turn.

Every door I pass on the street in Old Madrid is a masterpiece in and of itself.

Everyone on the streets looks like they put some thought into what they are wearing — even the joggers.

Flamenco dancing. Now I totally get it. Sexy, emotional and heart pounding.  Parts made me cry.  Wow.

Bull fights. Couldn’t do it. I know its tradition, but the thought of watching eight bulls die brutally and some horses die as collateral damage for human entertainment weakened my knees and hurt my heart.

20130518-182658.jpgThe city is beautifully clean and lush.

Dog breeds of popular choice on the streets are Bulldogs and Yorkies.

20130518-175247.jpg

Ham (jambon) is to Madrid what pizza is to New York and hot dogs are to Chicago.

And there you have it, for now.

Ps: I’m announcing a caption writing contest for that last random photo post I did of a Ferrari in traffic in Madrid (contest jokingly suggested by one of my readers). Submit yours as a comment on that last post and the caption that makes me laugh the most wins an exciting prize, or at least gets a public pat on the back. Honorable mentions will be listed as well.

Many cooler pics to come. Madrid was a wonderful experience and opportunity.

Gracias.

No matter where you go, there you are.

personallyIt’s been a heck of a year or so, and Little Red Riding Hood is now safe and sound in her new digs.  I am starting to breathe a little deeper, despite the periodic pangs of guilt that I work to suppress each time I drive away.

So when an opportunity to tag along with MacGyver on a work trip to Spain came along – during a favorite week of mine and for mere pennies at that – I took it as a sign.  A sign that it was time to shake off the worries of the last few years like a wet dog after a year-long bath.  And figure out how to jump on that plane.

As such, LifeonWry is Madrid-bound, as of this Saturday. I’m hoping to write while there and I’ll try to post on my blog.  I may even try to figure out how to pre-program some posts to appear while I am gone (no promises there).  So please standby if my little ol’ blog experiences any technical difficulties or extended pauses.spain

I am grateful to have such a wonderful travel opportunity present itself and to be able to take advantage of it.  Also grateful that my parents are willing to shake up their life for a week and watch our boys for most of the time while we are gone, while my dear friend, who is like a sister to me,  will stay for a few nights as well.  My friend’s mother, who is an extra mother to me (I’ve been blessed to have a few), will help out with my friend’s son while she is gone so that she can come to Colorado for a few days.

Having people like these in my life is yet another example of why my life is rich beyond measure.  All involved were on a mission to make it possible for me to go on this trip with MacGyver. And they jumped at the opportunity to spend quality time with my boys who are growing up so very quickly.post office

Traveling and experiencing new and different places is quite possibly as important as education.  I’m convinced that travel..and living in places different from what we are accustomed  to… broadens our minds by knocking down the boundaries set in place by our own experiences.

Too often our minds get boxed in by the familiar and only a change of scenery or culture can wedge them loose.  Perhaps that’s why my Grandmother called me her Gypsy granddaughter, God rest her leopard-shoed soul.

I am grateful that my parents taught me to appreciate travel and other cultures when I was young, and that I’ve been fortunate enough to be able to teach it to our sons.

There are so many quotes about travel that I love.  Twain’s view on travel is perfectly stated.  As is this one by Ralph Crawshaw:

“Travel has a way of stretching the mind. The stretch comes not from travel’s immediate rewards, the inevitable myriad new sights, smells and sounds, but with experiencing firsthand how others do differently what we believed to be the right and only way.” -Ralph Crawshaw

I will have a few days on my own in Madrid to get good and lost (for I am She-ra, Queen of the Compass-Challenged).  So I know that I’ll have some interesting stories to tell.  So stay tuned, my friends.  Stay tuned.

What are your thoughts on seeing new places?  What does travel mean to you?

Headline quoted from The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension.

 

Sunset Reset.

sunsetFrom within or from behind, a light shines through us upon things, and makes us aware that we are nothing,  but the light is all.
– Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882)

I took this photo last night from my friend’s back patio.  Just looking at it again – even as a photo – makes me breathe easier.

Just as the setting of the sun helps birds all over the world to find their way, that same sunset can clear the way for what the new day holds for each of us.

When was the last time you watched the sunset?

What I learned from Babe.

Babe

I knew I was beyond “rusty” with my horsemanship skills. I had a horse when I was young for a few years, but I had only taken a few lessons here and there over the last few years. Horses had remained a staple in my dreams but not realistic for my life.

So I knew when I signed up for an intensive horsemanship clinic in the mountains led by a well-known trainer / “horse whisperer” that I would be learning a lot.

But I had no idea what I would learn about myself in the process.

Babe was my horse for the week, as she was when I came to this same ranch a few weeks ago. I remembered that she was hard-headed and we struggled a bit, and that I had much to learn with her.

As the trainer introduced the horses who the twelve of us students would be riding for the week, he mentioned that Babe was one of the most sensitive horses in the arena. A great horse, but very sensitive. I took a nervous gulp. I wondered why the trainers wouldn’t think a more easy-going gelding instead of a quirky and sometimes hormonal mare wouldn’t be a better fit for someone like me?  But I soon realized there was a reason Babe and I were together again.

All of the other eleven riders had more experience than me. Many of them had their own horses and were simply here to fine-tune their skills. I was intimidated from the start as I tried to rein in my self-doubt which began to run wild at the start of each new exercise.

But in the end, as I released Babe from her halter that last day and the snow was falling all around us and she nuzzled her head into my chest, I realized that I had learned much more than horsemanship that week. And that Babe and I had truly bonded and learned from each other. I smiled as I gave her a kiss on the cheek and remembered that I too have been called hard-headed and sensitive on more than one occasion.  It had all been part of the plan.

What I learned from Babe choice

– Sometimes it takes a while to connect.  Babe seemed irritated as we groomed our horses that first morning and would hardly engage or acknowledge me while all of the other horses seemed to be loving the attention. (We’re not all hard-wired the same and some things take time.)

– If you’re having trouble, it’s a good idea to look inside yourself before you blame anyone else. (It’s hardly ever the horse’s fault.)

– Positive energy is key to everything. (I knew this stuff, why had I forgotten that like attracts like, negative thoughts attract the same, positive attracts positive?)

– Horses are smarter than people, and way more perceptive. (It’s always beneficial to leave your ego at the barn door and be truly open to learning.)

– Overanalysis can lead to paralysis. (The brain simply can’t be open to learning new things when it’s bogged down and you’re not breathing and giving it fuel.)

– Everything is relative. (Comparing yourself to anyone is never a good idea.)

– Expectations have got to make sense. (Appreciate a little bit of  improvement so you can be thrilled when you experience more.)

– Know the direction you’re wanting to go and make it happen, even if you’re told otherwise. (As a quote I saw recently says: You have the power at any given moment to say “This is not how the story is going to end.”)  Babe just wanted to make sure I was serious first.

– Visualizing success before you begin calms your soul and primes the pump. (Wow does this ever apply to everything.)

– When you’re leading anyone, they must know you are in charge to feel secure. (They need your guidance and confidence. And it can be given with love and appreciation at the same time.  Balance is a beautiful thing.)

– Never end a day on a negative. Figure out a way to make sure of this with kids, spouses, employees, friends, and yes, animals. (The way we end a day has a lot to do with the way we start the next.)

– Relax.  (When you’re tense others can sense it …  and it affects everything.)

– When things come easily we don’t appreciate them near as much. (The strongest love is born from struggle and sweat.)  Ain’t that the truth.

– Sometimes we’re presented with just the exact challenge that the universe knows we need. (You just have to be open to seeing it.)

Have you ever learned about yourself in a most unexpected place?

A big slice of gratitude with a side of nature.

horsenose

very inspiringversatile_blogger_award

I’m feeling quite lucky to have so many reasons to be grateful today.

I just realized that not too long ago my little ol’ blog reached over 10,000 views!  Thank you dear followers for being with me on this journey as I figure out life (Do we ever really figure it out?).  You are the reason for this blog’s success.

I’m also truly grateful to have had the opportunity to experience one of the most beautiful places on earth over the weekend at a guest horse ranch in the mountains.  Nothing like nature and animals, along with a lack of cell service, email and television to help you recharge.

I’ve also been remiss in formally thanking some wonderful  fellow bloggers out there who have nominated me for two awards. I am always honored and humbled to be celebrated by fellow writers out there.

Special thanks to Food Flavor Fascination for nominating me for the Very Inspiring Blog Award and Glad to Be Alive  and Dressed to Quill  for nominating me for the Versatile Blogger Award.  I’m nominating them today for whichever of these awards they don’t already have. These are all great blogs you should check out, by the way.

Here are the rules: 1.  Copy and place the award in your post.  2.  Thank the person who nominated you and link back to their blog.  3.  Tell 7 things about yourself. 4.  Nominate 15 fellow bloggers and let them know.

redrhonebaby

Now for seven things about myself which you don’t already know (I’m afraid there may not be much left to tell since my blog is quite often a large window into a chunk of my soul, so forgive me if I repeat myself.)

1.  I really can’t stand the overuse of exclamation marks.  More than one at any time seems way too overboard to be sincere.

2. I have almost completely quit drinking diet coke.  This is huge for me.

3. I will probably never quit drinking coffee or martinis.  If I owned two horses I would name them Folgers and Hendricks.

4. The smell of horses and even what they leave behind (pun sort of intended) soothes my soul, as does the gentle sway of their walk with me in the saddle and way my heart  skips in a canter.

5. The velvety soft tip of a horse’s nose is one of my favorite things to feel.  I had a few nibble on my hands this weekend when they were looking for treats as I did this.

6. I am quite possibly more saddle sore today than I have ever been.  Age is a funny thing.alhorses

7.  I am grateful as all-get-out (Okie term) to be this saddle sore and for the fact that MacGyver rode horses with me and now just might be a convert.

Next, there are so many blogs that I enjoy, but I have to narrow it down to 15 bloggers to nominate for these awards (choose which award you would like because you all inspire me and your blog is versatile or I wouldn’t be following it).   Forgive me if you have already received these awards.  There are also many blogs not listed here that I love to follow but may have already given a shout-out too.

Each of these blogs, and many others, inspires me, refreshes me or makes me laugh so hard that I spit out my Folgers. And often they give me a necessary kick-in-the- pants perspective-check right when I need it.

Lifestyle Tea

Fresh Hues

Cancer Killing Recipe

Amy Unjaded

Alzheimer’s Speaks

Enchanted Seashells – Confessions from a Tugboat Captain’s Wife

The Savvy Senorita

Lady Romp

Cresting the Words

Susie Lindau’s Wold Ride

Food Flavor Fascination

Glad to Be Alive 

Dressed to Quill

Diane Gray author

Keeping the Glass Half Full

Thank you for reading.  What are you grateful for right now?  Gratitude truly rocks, but it often requires awareness, practice, and sometimes a sore bum.

sunset

Top Thing I Really Should Have Learned in 2012. (Top Ten Continued)

Top Thing I Really Should Have Learned More About in 2012: MATH

As a kind and gracious reader of my last post pointed out, I left out #5 on my top ten lessons learned. I’ve always said as a Journalism major, I simply don’t do math. But really, that’s pretty funny.

So what would number 5 really be?

snowintree

Well, as I drove home from school drop off this morning, I couldn’t help staring wide-eyed at the snow all around me.  And noticing how soft it felt under my boots and as it landed on my sweater. I wanted to take a picture of every tree with snow perfectly placed on its branches as I drove past them this morning .  I know it sounds corny, but I really don’t care.

Even at 20 degrees this morning, I couldn’t help smiling.  I even went back outside after my return to take my neighbor’s paper to her doorstep.  It was so beautiful and perfect and soft that I seriously didn’t notice the 20 degrees.

I have learned the importance of stopping and noticing so much more in 2012.  Maybe it’s the writing that has made me more observant.  Or the introspection that more disciplined writing has spurred.  Or maybe this gratitude thing has really started to change my view in a way more significant than I had realized?

But it feels right despite its borderline cornitude.  I’m slowing to notice the snow, the deep orange and pink skies letting the sun out from under its covers early in the morning and the brilliance of the moon in our bathroom skylight before I close my eyes. The way petting my little red furry muse (monkey dog) warms me inside and makes my blood move more thoughtfully through my veins. The way so many people and things are not what I had first thought before I started this process.

The twinkle in my sons’ eyes when I spend extra minutes to encourage them and talk to them before they go to bed. The way each year we think our Christmas tree is the prettiest we’ve ever had. The way my Mom’s giggle was back (even if temporarily) when I visited her yesterday as she picked up one of the bills I was paying over the phone and gestured to it like it had the best joke written on it that she had ever read. Even though she lost her ability to read and comprehend a good year or so ago.

Maybe a part of my brain that was asleep has peeled the covers back to take another look?  I hope it never goes back to sleep.

Indeed, that is the number 5 lesson learned for little Miss Math Challenged … how powerful the effect of stopping and noticing can be.

What have you stopped and noticed today? 

Top Ten Things I Learned in 2012

treepiper

10. There is no need to beat myself up about anything if I’m doing the best that I can.

9. I should never, ever stop learning.  There is still far too much to learn.

8. I am the #1 advocate for my children and should never be intimidated to advocate for them; it’s my job.

7. If we keep our eyes and hearts open, an unexpected smile, a delightful conversation or a great lesson can be found at every turn.

6. Childhood only happens once for our kids, and they’ll be gone before we know it.  Even if we’ve had a long day, we should teach them every single day how to be the kind of adults we hope they will be. And a lot of that is done by example.

4. If  I don’t like something, figuring out how to change it instead of bitching about it makes a whole lot more sense.

3. It doesn’t do any good to worry about what I can’t control.  Instead follow Dora’s advice in Finding Nemo: “Just Keep Swimming, just keep swimming….”  It will work out, whatever it is.  That was one smart fish.

2. Gratitude can make a hell of a difference in my life.

1.  Life is short so I should not sweat the small stuff and instead focus on making a difference in this world, which feels crazy good.

I learned a lot more than this in 2012, but these were definitely some highlights.  Thanks – as always – for being on this journey with me.

What are a few top things you learned this year?