Tag Archives: writing

Weekly Photo Challenge: Silhouette. Gratitude Experiment: Day 67

This week’s WordPress photo challenge is Silhouette.

This photo was taken while driving to Steamboat as the sun was setting.  That was one of the most beautiful drives I can remember. The trees all along the way were absolutely magnificent. (Absolutely was a word that my dear Yoda friend who passed away used all the time. Today was her birthday and I thought of her a lot today. When I see Pear trees planted in a row I think of her.)

Trees make me happy. They stir up all kinds of emotions in me, be it connections to the past, the ideas of longevity, flexibility, stability  change, hope and so much more.  The Weeping Willow across my street (at my friendly neighbor’s) reminds me of the Weeping Willow that we planted at my house in front of our living room window when I was six years old, as well as the Birch tree by our driveway and its paper-like bark that fascinated me.   My mother loved to plant trees and was proud of how well that Weeping Willow grew. I think it made her proud of her new-found independence.

I am grateful for trees (we take them for granted). Do you have memories or feelings that are awakened by trees?

Hope you had a great weekend – here’s to a wonderful week ahead.  I will work on my random acts of kindness this week, as well as my gratitude and positive thinking.  Thanks for reading!

Random Acts Challenge. Gratitude Experiment: Day 65

A friend sent me an email this week  that talked about gratitude and random acts of kindness.  There were terrific photos with examples of random acts of kindness – people giving shoes to the shoe-less, someone holding an umbrella for someone who couldn’t hold it for themselves, a note from someone paying the tab for couple of new parents at a restaurant, and several more.

It seems to me that sometimes we spend a lot of time thinking about what we don’t like, what we want next and what we don’t have. I fall into this same rut sometimes.

My challenge is this:  For every time this week that I start to complain about something or someone, or think about some “thing” that I want, I will stop and remind myself how lucky I am and think of one random act of kindness to do.  I will try to do this once per day this coming week.  We’ll see how it goes.

Want to play? I challenge you to do it and see what kind of effect it can have. Challenge your friends or kids to. What a great thing to teach kids.  I know it sounds cheesy, but bear with me and give it a go.

There are websites dedicated to providing examples of easy random acts of kindness and you can Google it – from holding the door open (to me this should be a no-brainer), paying the tab for someone behind you, doing yard work for someone, donating books to the library, cooking a meal for someone, picking up trash, writing a letter or card to someone you appreciate, the list goes on. It doesn’t take much.  One of my favorites is to surprise someone who seems like they would really appreciate it (and never expect it) with a much larger tip than usual. Or to let people go in front of me in line if they seem rushed (freaks people out a little so the entertainment factor is a bonus).

Today I’m grateful for being reminded about random acts of kindness.  And for my readers. Go forth and randomly act. Thanks for reading.

I never did mind about the little things. Gratitude Experiment: Day 64

Couldn’t resist the title of this post. This is my favorite line from “Point of No Return,” a terrific 1993 movie with Bridget Fonda and a remake of a Franco-Italian film, Nikkita. If you haven’t seen it, find it.

Now, on to gratitude.  Today I am grateful that a fellow blogger reminded me of another favorite quote. Yes, I like quotes and I have a lot of favorites.

This one is on a pillow on my bed (one of those throw pillows that are a pain but look awesome when the bed is all made perfectly).

My hope in purchasing this pillow is that seeing it daily will help me slow down and enjoy the little things in life and not sweat the things that seem bigger at the time.  (Example: reminding myself that one of these days before long and when my kids are older, I will probably long to have a sassy teenager in the house again to sass me while I do their laundry or drive them all over town.  Hard to imagine, but you get the idea.) Now I just need to get better about making my bed perfectly each day so I will see it more.

Most of my favorite quotes are about perspective, and this one follows suit.

What things could you enjoy more if you switched up your perspective?

WWYD (What would Yoda do?) Gratitude Experiment: Day 63

Today I am grateful for being blessed with Yodas in my life.

Raising a house of boys and having a husband who remains a young boy at heart, Star Wars was very much a part of my life for many years.

We all dressed up as different  Star Wars characters for Halloween over the years (although my Princess Leah didn’t  hold a candle to the real one in the bikini that my husband had a thing for back in the day). So perhaps I jokingly used Star Wars terminology more than I realized (as nerdy as that sounds) and that’s how this Yoda thing began.

Years ago I had a very dear friend, God rest her soul, who I called my domestic Yoda.  She was the most organized person I have ever known. When I opened her linen closet I heard harps play.  Her kids’  pretend-food  in their play kitchen was even organized by food pyramid type and alphabetical order.  She could fold a set of sheets like no other.

She could have been in sheet folding contests.  Seriously, her linen closet made my heart skip a beat.  Hard as I have tried, I have never been able master her neat linen closet skill.  She made numerous attempts to teach me how to fold sheets Yoda-style, but we finally realized that I simply don’t have great patience for all things domestic.  And my family survives despite my less than perfect linen closet.

I really did envy her domestic ease and try to learn from it though.  She was always there for me if I needed to call and ask her a cooking or planting question or any other random domestic question.  I bought a house down the street from her, went to the same doctor and took my kids to the same preschool and doctor for years.  If they could pass her test, I knew they were a-okay.

When she got very sick with cancer, I bought her a talking Yoda doll, because she knew she was my Yoda.  She kept it by her bedside to give her strength and we always joked about it.  At her funeral I spoke about how she was my Yoda; I even spoke about her linen closet and the harps.  I still miss her dearly.

Another dear friend of mine has always been my geographical Yoda.  Before the days of GPS, I could call her anywhere, anytime in my home state when I was turned around and she would lead me by phone using landmarks, turn by turn, giggling all the while at my geographical cluelessness.  To this day, she is one of my best friends ever, and she has been a wonderful Yoda to me on many fronts beyond her original geographical Yoda duties.  Grateful for her, I am (Yoda-speak).

When I moved to a new state I was bummed that I might not have any Yodas nearby. Making friends and Yoda connections as an adult is much more challenging as an adult.  But luckily the force was with me.

I gained a Yoda who is part of my alumnae group that I have been very involved with since I moved here.  She is 10 years older than me with two boys as well and I have coincidentally ended up following many of her footsteps in various ways.  She has coached me through leadership positions and parental challenges and I am lucky to be her Jedi in Training.  I have another friend in the group who is like a sister to me, in a very Yoda-esque way.

I am also blessed to have a Yoda across the street from me.  She is Yoda-like on many levels, so it is hard to give her a specific Yoda category.  I know the universe placed her across the street from me to guide me and keep ‘the force’ strong within me as there are no accidents in this grand life of ours.

She has given me sage advice about raising teenagers, dealing with schools, learning to say no and so much more.  And even more importantly, she is also always there for a Yoda happy hour when I need to blow off steam.  Her Yoda senses seem to tell her when to call, they do.

For these Yodas in my life and many others, I am truly blessed.  Placed in my life for a reason, I know these Yodas have been.  Grateful, forever I am.  Yoda-speak, this is.

Have you ever had a Yoda in your life?

So many love/hate relationships, so little time. Gratitude Experiment: Day 62

I must preface this post with the fact that when refer to ‘love/hate’ relationships, I’m using the word ‘hate’ for effect.  It’s not one of my favorite words.  But this is how I describe relationships with things that I love but that also cause me great angst at times.

Top ten (in no particular order)

1. Friendly neighbors.  Love em, really I do.  But when I am in my sweats (I work at home) looking scary and am clearly running head-down out to put the trash at the curb or a letter in the mailbox, I don’t want to chat (unless I know you well). Even with my friendly neighbor who I think is mowing his lawn in his robe this morning.  For real.

2. Having teenagers.  Love my kids dearly, more than anything.  But so many times, their curtness, voice tone and attitude can drive me bat crazy.

3. Home organization containers. They should sell these on porn sites. I get more enjoyment out of going to The Container Store than most places I can think of.  Buying organization stuff is like crack for me, if I was an addict, or even really understood what crack was.  I think sometimes they just provide better ways to hide my disorganization.

4. Big SUVs.  I love how safe I feel in them, how much I can pack in them to go to the mountains and the ego rush I hate to admit that I get from being taller in traffic.  But the gas consumption kills me.

5. Decorative pillows on my bed and sectional.  They look awesome and I love buying them. Another addiction.  But man are they are a pain in the ass.

6. Vitamins and supplements.  I have all the best intentions of taking them when I buy them. But I despise taking them.  More waste.

7. Photographs.  Love, love, love pictures.  But I am in constant turmoil about how many photo albums I am behind on at any given moment.  Yes, I still love photo albums.  Are they passé along with hard copy everything else? Never for me.

8.  Blogging.  This new world is fascinating and insightful. And I’ve connected with bloggers who I know I’d love to do happy hour with on a weekly basis.  But how the heck do bloggers get anything else done?  This is the deepest rabbit hole I’ve ever come across.

9.  Marketing emails.  I write marketing copy for a living;  I should know better, and be immune by now.  But those damn 50% off until midnight emails still manage to suck me in, as well as way too much of my time and money.  (Although I just did finally turn off my new email notification pop-ups, after thinking about how much I needed to for the last few years.)  Another addiction. Better than crack, I tell my husband.  Is there a theme here?

10. Facebook.  Love it on some days, hate it on others.  Great way to stay in touch with old pals and learn about all things current and interesting.  But if I see any more negative, bashing emails about anything political, football or otherwise, I’m going to poke another eye out.  (If people think they’re doing their teams or candidates any favors, they’re sorely mistaken.) And people who post new glamour shots of themselves regularly on Facebook?  I really don’t get it, but clearly I have a different purpose in mind for Facebook. Although my niece has always told me its the perfect venue for egotists.  Yet I take offense to that since I often enjoy Facebook for the voyeuristic benefits (Yikes, did I just say that?  Didn’t mean it as creepy as it sounds).

Whew, I feel better. Thanks for playing. I’m sure there are more of these relationships that I could think of if I let this rabbit hole take me down any deeper.

What do you have love/hate relationships with?

All hail to snail mail. Gratitude Experiment: Day 61

Today I am thankful for those who still embrace the concept of snail mail once in a while.  Though twitter and email and other electronic methods are of course uber-efficient and help us stay more connected than ever before, it’s hard to argue against the power of tangible words on a page.  And the occasional letter or card by mail, in my opinion, is the greatest expression of thoughtfulness, creativity and gratitude.

Handwritten letters and thank you notes are something my mother ingrained in me early on.  And I recently found boxes in her basement where it would seem that she saved almost every letter I ever wrote her.

I have always been thankful that my mother taught me the value of the written word.  My kids probably aren’t so thrilled about it at this point, as my son has a list of thank you notes to complete. But they will be later.

The transfer of hand written documents by an intermediary dates almost as far back as the invention of writing itself.  The development of formal postal systems occurred much later, with the first organized service for transferring written documents in Egypt, where Pharaohs used couriers to disperse their decrees in the territory of the State in 2400 BC.

Now as the internet transforms the way people communicate, mail volumes worldwide are on the decline.

Yet even as email is often used for thanking potential employers after job interviews, discussions with top executives have shown that those who use handwritten notes are more noticed by potential employers compared to the hundreds of emails received and quickly read and deleted.  And those skills transfer over to success in many careers where the handwritten word has been proven to help executives lead others and form deeper relationships with customers and prospects.

I will be using snail mail as a complementary method for communication for as long as I am lucky enough to have a dependable postal service at my disposal.  And I treasure each handwritten note I receive, knowing the thought and effort required by the sender.

Today, though I terribly miss my Mother’s regular letters which I received for the last twenty-five years, I am grateful that she taught me the power of the hand written word.  And thankful to receive as much personal snail mail as I do.

Do you remember how excited you were to receive mail as a child? And do you still get a little excited when you receive a package? I’m guessing so, if you’re anything like me. When was the last time you sent or received a handwritten note?

Living with MacGyver. Gratitude Experiment: Day 60

My husband is known by my family and friends to be rather resourceful.  And this is an understatement. He can deconstruct, construct or fix just about anything. And he’s always prepared.

He could hang a 200 pound mirror on your living room wall using a toothpick, some hairspray and a shoe. He could wire your house for sound using spare stereo wire from his first car in 1985 (that he saved just in case), with one of my cosmetic mirrors, some pipe cleaners and a belt to string the wire through the walls.  And if your ceiling fans didn’t come with remote controls, he would figure out how to make some out of spare buttons, a wire coat hanger and a Barbie arm. Clearly I’m exaggerating for effect here, but you get the idea.

He  loves to drive in crazy, snowy weather and becomes almost giddy when we find people stuck in the mountains in their two-wheel drive cars needing a tow.  That way he can use all the gadgets, cables, gloves and flares that he keeps in the trunk. He might even fix them a hot toddy while they wait for the tow, using the full bar he has set up in a box in the back of the car for our trip, heating it with the cigarette lighter and a piece of tin foil.

When my first car’s engine actually caught fire after we were first married years ago, he had a fire extinguisher at the ready in the hatch back (who has this in their car?).  Then he and his dad took apart the entire engine, taking Polaroid pictures of  the parts on the driveway as they disassembled them so that they could put it back together with a new head gasket.   There may have been some hairpins and dental floss holding things together under the smoke-tinged hood, but it still ran like a champ after that.

And if you’re ever stranded in the wilderness, have no fear. He could make you a tent using aspen leaves along with the spare chopsticks, clothespins and bicycle parts that he might happen to have in his backpack.  And don’t worry about first aid supplies, water or food to get you by for a week, he’s got that in his backpack too, plus an inflatable raft, a spare tire, a mini air compressor and a ham radio.

I often give him major grief about being so prepared and then nine times out of ten I’m thrilled when he pulls whatever I need out of that damn backpack.  Rain gear for all of us, bottles of water, sunscreen, bug repellent  and probably ingredients for a Western omelet in case we come across a place where he can start a fire using the flint and steel fire starting kit he keeps at the ready.  Otherwise he would use concentrated sunlight and his watch crystal (that he would remove with his Swiss army knife) to start the fire. He’s like our own SurvivorMan or Bear Grylls , but we don’t think we can get him to drink his own urine.

And much to his chagrin, he is also my 24/7  computer technology support.  When I’m frustrated with my computer for its inability to read my mind, or sync all my calendars, or keep up with the 63 windows I have open at the same time, he can fix that too — blindfolded even.  Okay, I’m exaggerating again for effect, but hopefully you get the idea. And no, nothing kinky is going on while he is fixing my computer blindfolded.

As an added bonus, he is also the kindest, smartest, funniest and handsomest (is that even a word?) guy you want to have around next time you are stuck in an elevator without power, stranded in the wilderness without shelter or trapped at a social function where the bartender doesn’t know how to make a dry gin martini.

Today I am ever so grateful that I live with MacGyver.  And that McGyver has a lot of patience with his sidekick.

It’s all relative. Gratitude Experiment: Day 59

This is another one of my all time favorite quotes. And it is so very true.

This quote, by Ralph Waldo Emerson, shows up in random places around my house depending on who needs it within their line of sight the most on any given day.

Emerson was an American essayist, lecturer, and poet, who was a leader in the Transcendentalist movement in the  mid-19th century. At its core, transcendentalism was about the inherent good in man and in nature.

The key tenets of Transcendentalism are that everything is a reflection of God and that people are basically good.  Also that contemplating nature can allow you to transcend the real world and go to a higher, spiritual level. That individualism and self-reliance are better than following others or depending on tradition. And that a person’s true feelings and intuition are more valuable than book knowledge.

Other key figures in the movement were Walt Whitman, Henry David Thoreau (also said to have possibly written this quote), Margaret Fuller (the first woman to earn a living at full-time journalism) and John Muir (I just learned this about John Muir and it makes perfect sense since Muir Woods is my favorite place in the world.)  Oh how I would love to have dinner with this group.  Wow.

I am grateful to have had a wonderful discussion with my sons about the Transcendental movement earlier today– and frankly floored by their knowledge of it and beaming with pride because of their depth and compassion as human beings.

Also grateful to have these lovely words to remind me of the importance of perspective in this universe. Thanks for reading.

16 pros and cons on your kid turning 16. Gratitude Experiment: Day 57

Good news: My oldest son is about to turn sixteen.

Bad news: This makes me feel a little old.

Good news: I will now be a car shuttle service for him much less often.

Bad news: The thought of paying for gas for another vehicle makes my stomach a little weak.

Good news: I am very lucky that my son is a great driver.

Bad news: Teenage boys are WAY more expensive to insure as young drivers than girls.  That seems a little sexist to me.

Good news: If we help him get a car we will have a huge carrot to work with behaviorally speaking.

Bad news: Whoever said girls were easier than girls as teenagers did not know my son.

Good news: My dad’s theory about teenagers having cars with the smallest back seats possible and the least room for passengers now sounds like a genius idea.

Bad news: Shopping for a car that will be reliable but won’t indulge your child is a tough balancing act.

Good news:  Craigslist rocks.

Bad news: It’s hard to know what to believe when it come to buying cars.  Suddenly CarFax isn’t so factual.

Good news: There are still a few people who sell their cars privately and who are very honest.

Bad news: Once he is driving I will have a new list of things to worry about.

Good news: My insurance agent said that the Dodge Caravan minivan is the cheapest car for us to insure him to drive.

Bad news: I’m afraid my son might endure bodily harm if he drove a Dodge Caravan minivan to school.

For all this perspective, I am grateful.

Reaching for Gratitude. Gratitude Experiment: Day 55

So it’s been a long day. My oldest son is seriously making me crazy beyond comprehension, I was a shuttle service for my kids today far more than usual despite the paid work I needed to get done, and I found the TV remote control that I’ve been missing for two days in my purse this afternoon.

It’s been that kind of week. And yes, I have a big ass purse.

So this is going to be short. I am grateful that I found that damn remote control. Embarrassed to admit where I found it, but glad I found it. Must have fallen off the bed on Sunday and into my purse on the floor next to my bed. Again, not proud of the fact that I just realized this today, but thankful.

Now it won’t be necessary for me to have a flashback to my grandma’s house watching her TV with huge rabbit ears and actually getting up to adjust the volume (the horror!) every time I want to turn down the bickering on my ever so critical Real Housewives of New Jersey episodes.

I’m also grateful that one of my besties (from my panty hose and purple pant suits days: https://lifeonwry.com/?s=panty#) is coming to visit tomorrow. I am lucky to have such wonderful friends who accept me despite all of my idiosyncrasies and all of the remote controls in my purse.

I promise I’m not nuts. But if I wasn’t a little, you probably wouldn’t find this near as interesting. Which is why I am ever so grateful for you, my readers. Thank you!

P.S.: Also thankful for the beautiful sunrise that I saw this morning and slowed down carpool traffic in order to snap a few pictures of. Life is short, we better enjoy it.

Weekly Photo Challange: Happy. Gratitude Experiment: Day 53

This week’s photo challenge is Happy.

Below are some things that make me happy: my pups at my feet, the mountains, the beach with a Corona, Muir Woods and chilled martini glasses.

Also my turquoise and gold Ainsley teacup collection, my curios from friends in my little mediation corner and 1984 911 headlights.

Of course family also makes me happy, and my friends, and the smell, sight and feel of anything horse, as well as nostalgia,  kitsch, painting and cool mountain air in the fall.  So many others but these are some good ones.
What makes you happy?

Weekly Photo Challenge: Mine. Gratitude Experiment: Day 52

The theme of last week’s WordPress weekly photo challenge was Mine — where you post a picture of something that is uniquely yours.

I’m a day late, but I selected this old GE photo cube that I got from my grandmother’s house after she passed away.  When I was little I was fascinated by this cube that she always had out.  It has photos on each side and a speaker on the top, with an AM/FM radio that doesn’t work anymore.  I thought the radio part was so very cool and I loved to play with it (hmmm…possibly why it doesn’t work anymore).  This was back in the days before Shutterfly and all of the sites that let you make photo gifts.  It was far ahead of its time.

The cube has a picture of a house I lived in during my early years one side, a photo of my grandmother, her sister and two of her friends on another side, a photo of me when I was probably four years old with my cat Rascal on one side, and my favorite side has a photo of my Dad carving a pumpkin with my sister and I.

This photo cube reminds me of my grandmother in all of her leopard print and gold lamay glory.  She made flashy work like no one else could ever pull off because she had a larger-than-life attitude that influenced her every moment. She could play the piano more beautifully than I’ve ever heard anyone play.  And she had a whistle that was so magnificent and strong I can hear it now.  My dad got her whistle and I love to hear it.  She was also a complete bridge-playing bad-ass and could remember numbers like nobody’s business.  I wish I had asked her to teach me bridge.

She also had a beautiful voice unlike any other. I loved the way she said my name and the way she talked. She called my Gypsy during the summers of my college years when I changed residences often.  She loved it when her Gypsy would pull up in her driveway to say hello.  She’d always offer me “Cokie Cola” and cookies and we would sit at her ice cream table and visit while the koo koo clock on her kitchen wall tick-tocked loudly behind us.  Then at certain intervals her antique clocks in the living room would chime in a series, making their own little familiar symphony.  I can hear those chimes and smell her house now.  The aroma of little scented soaps filled the house because it seemed like she had them everywhere in sweet little china dishes.

The picture of my dad and sister and I all together is my favorite side of the cube because it has us all together in it, which I love the thought of.  Also because I love carving pumpkins and Halloween is my favorite holiday.  And as you know, I have a special relationship with pumpkins as mentioned in a previous post (https://lifeonwry.com/2012/10/04/watch-out-for-flying-pumpkins-gratitude-experiment-day-50/).  And the yellow appliances, our outfits, our haircuts and the looks on all of our faces remind me of the innocence of my youth.

This photo cube is uniquely mine and I cherish it.  It sits not far from my computer where I write this blog each day, on a shelf with other things uniquely mine and sentimental.  For all this, I am grateful.  Thanks for reading!

Mike Foxtrotter, this has to stop! Gratitude Experiment: Day 51

This morning I was running late for a meeting and getting ready far too late to comfortably make it in time.  And that’s usually when it starts.  Words that would make most people blush begin to fly out of my mouth as I fumble for my mascara and search for my iphone that invisible elves continue to misplace every morning when I need to leave the house.

This is all much to my husband’s amusement.  He often laughs quietly (for fear of his life), sometimes muttering that he thinks he would hear less cursing if he were suiting up in marine barracks each morning.

Today after my explosive rant while hurriedly applying makeup with one eye on the clock, searching for my phone  and changing clothes at the same time, he suggested that I might think about substituting my litany of four-letter words with military alphabet terminology:  “Foxtrot!  Where’s my mike foxtrotting phone?  Delta it.”

Yesterday after I broke a glass in the dishwasher and exclaimed a few niceties, he asked,”Is that how Honey Boo Boo would say it?”   This is getting serious.  I know I need to clean up my act.

At least I’m becoming more aware and I think I have some semblance of control.  I actually do know when to limit my Sierras, Foxtrots and Deltas in certain circumstances when it would be totally out of line.  So why am I unable to harness that kind of self control more often?  Maybe I need to be checked in somewhere.

This afternoon I asked my almost sixteen year old son if I cursed too much.  When he told me “Well, yes Mom, you do, but it’s sort of but it’s funny.”  I threw out a curse word before asking he was serious.  “Sierra… am I that bad?”  I didn’t even realize the irony.

In a fellow blogger’s recent post, Cursing: An Editorial Style Guide (http://imissyouwheniblink.com/2012/04/26/cursing-an-editorial-style-guide/), his guidelines for optimum profanity usage are explained.

Below is rule number one:

***

1. Show some ingenuity.

Contrary to what you may have heard, using profanity isn’t necessarily a lazy way of speaking or writing. Using the wrong profanity is lazy. Choose all words with equal care, I say. My mother, who by the way is one of the classiest dames you’ll ever meet, has been known to brandish curse words in entirely unique ways, inventing whole new parts of speech. She always has the right expression for a situation. For example, walking into an unkempt room: “Holy shitstorm, it looks like the ass end of destruction in a typhoid whorehouse around here.” [Exit with flourish.] What does it even mean? I don’t know. But somehow I can picture it. She is a genius. Always be creative and specific.

***

I can only hope that one day my boys will refer to the ingenuity of my profanity with the admiration that this blogger has for his mother’s.  I know my college roommates have that kind of admiration for me to this day. I had some doozies my freshman year. They still quote me on a couple of key phrases that broke records for profanity ingenuity.

Today I am grateful that at times I am self-aware enough to know when I need to work on improving my less than ideal habits.  And for my family’s patience while I do so.  Thanks for reading!