I turn 50 two weeks from Sunday. For the past five years I've been telling my kids I wanted us to spend that day together, regardless of where we all live. I've been promised faithfully, right up until this past Christmas, that would indeed happen. In January, my son took a job at the same company where my son in law works. I reminded him BEFORE he took it to be sure his boss knew he would need time off to come from Texas to North Carolina for my birthday. I found out a few weeks after he started, he FORGOT to tell the boss that. And now he can't get the time off. My son in law could, if he would, and he and my daughter could have come out. But he also FORGOT to ask for the time off, so now they aren't coming either.
Because my children were never taught my their father that my birthday and Mother's Day are important days to remember (although they learned Father's Day and his birthday are important), I told them in January what I wanted for each day. I told them I wanted new portraits of them for Mother's Day and a gift card to my favorite bird store for my birthday. I reminded them several times, but guess what? They FORGOT to get their pictures taken! Now, through no fault of their own, they can't afford to. But if they had done it way back when I first asked, their financial situation now would have no bearing on whether I got the portraits or not. I don't mind so much not getting the gift card (although my greedy self says I still want it!), but I don't live near my kids and I want up-to-date pictures of them and I don't think that's much to ask. But they can't remember to do anything special for me.
I keep reminding them a person only turns 50 once. I should be able to celebrate that milestone with the people I love. I am blessed to be able to spend it with Lisa. I want to spend it with my kids too. And I don't think I should be the one who has to travel for it to happen! My feelings are hurt (in case you haven't already figured that out) and I seriously doubt they will even notice. They never do. I'm that forgettable.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Monday, May 19, 2008
Joy, joy, joy
Joy, joy, joy. We used to sing a song when I was a child about joy being down in my heart, down in my heart, down in my heart all day. That song came to me today when I was thinking about Lisa. We talked last night about joy. This is essentially what I told her:
I first discovered real, true joy when my children were born. I never knew I had the capacity for love and joy that I did until I held first my daughter, then three years later, my son in my arms. Watching them grow into intelligent, caring, giving adults was a lot of work, but work I would never trade for anything in the world. But once they were grown, while I still feel the joy of the love I have with them, that joy is a different, almost distant kind of joy. They have their own lives now and I rejoice with them in their triumphs and grieve with them when they are hurt. But I no longer derive from them the kind of joy for myself I once did.
Then, just over two years ago, another kind of joy entered my life. A joy I once again had no clue existed. Lisa walked into my life and I learned to love again, to laugh again. She helped me to gain self-confidence and self-respect and how it's okay not to question every decision I've ever made in life. And I gained joy, joy, joy. The kind of joy that does reside deep down in my heart. My heart leaps with joy whenever I think of her - her beautiful eyes and hair, her soft skin and her sensuous body. My love for her grows daily, as does the joy she brings me.
Joy, joy, joy. Deep down in my heart. Thank you, beautiful lady!
I first discovered real, true joy when my children were born. I never knew I had the capacity for love and joy that I did until I held first my daughter, then three years later, my son in my arms. Watching them grow into intelligent, caring, giving adults was a lot of work, but work I would never trade for anything in the world. But once they were grown, while I still feel the joy of the love I have with them, that joy is a different, almost distant kind of joy. They have their own lives now and I rejoice with them in their triumphs and grieve with them when they are hurt. But I no longer derive from them the kind of joy for myself I once did.
Then, just over two years ago, another kind of joy entered my life. A joy I once again had no clue existed. Lisa walked into my life and I learned to love again, to laugh again. She helped me to gain self-confidence and self-respect and how it's okay not to question every decision I've ever made in life. And I gained joy, joy, joy. The kind of joy that does reside deep down in my heart. My heart leaps with joy whenever I think of her - her beautiful eyes and hair, her soft skin and her sensuous body. My love for her grows daily, as does the joy she brings me.
Joy, joy, joy. Deep down in my heart. Thank you, beautiful lady!
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Fishing
Today was the first day Lisa and I have had a chance to get out to the lake and go fishing. Why is it that when you plan on getting an early start every thing gets in the way? We got up early enough, but we still didn't manage to get to the dock until after ten o'clock. We baited our hooks and cast them out - well, I actually just let mine drop straight off the edge of the dock. Then I sat down to write, basically ignoring my pole while Lisa cast and then re-cast and then cast again. She finally cast out to where she was happy and sat down as well. I got up to stretch and notice my bobber was completely under the water. I reeled in about an 8 inch crappie. The family fishing next to us laughed and commented that the only person not really fishing was the only one catching anything. Well, I continued to just basically wet my bait and then write for a while and I'm the only one to catch anything. I caught four crappie, but only three were keepers.
We came home and I fired up the grill. Then I cleaned my fish and wrapped them in foil. I had already thawed a T-bone out, so I seasoned it and put it over the coals. I added the fish after the steak had cooked about 10 minutes. I turned it over and cooked it all another 10 minutes while I heated corn on the cob up on the stove. We had a feast! The steak and fish and corn were all just perfect.
Well, the coals were still perfect for cooking. We had brats and Italian sausage in the freezer so we pulled those out and put them over the coals. They are perfectly cooked for us to use in our spaghetti tomorrow night and for lunches during the week.
The day was about as perfect as a day could get. The only downside is the back of my neck, sides of my face, and tops of my ears are all beet red. I wore a ball cap, but that didn't give me much protection. So now I have my funky hat with the flaps that cover my neck and a big floppy brim to keep the sun off the rest of my face and I dug out the sunblock. Lisa is a tad bit red as well, but not nearly as bad. I'm glad I wore long-sleeves or I would really be cooked. The breeze was so cool and comfortable we kind of forgot about the sun until it was too late.
We're going to try to go fishing again tomorrow morning. The forecast calls for scattered showers, but we're hoping they're scattered somewhere else!
We came home and I fired up the grill. Then I cleaned my fish and wrapped them in foil. I had already thawed a T-bone out, so I seasoned it and put it over the coals. I added the fish after the steak had cooked about 10 minutes. I turned it over and cooked it all another 10 minutes while I heated corn on the cob up on the stove. We had a feast! The steak and fish and corn were all just perfect.
Well, the coals were still perfect for cooking. We had brats and Italian sausage in the freezer so we pulled those out and put them over the coals. They are perfectly cooked for us to use in our spaghetti tomorrow night and for lunches during the week.
The day was about as perfect as a day could get. The only downside is the back of my neck, sides of my face, and tops of my ears are all beet red. I wore a ball cap, but that didn't give me much protection. So now I have my funky hat with the flaps that cover my neck and a big floppy brim to keep the sun off the rest of my face and I dug out the sunblock. Lisa is a tad bit red as well, but not nearly as bad. I'm glad I wore long-sleeves or I would really be cooked. The breeze was so cool and comfortable we kind of forgot about the sun until it was too late.
We're going to try to go fishing again tomorrow morning. The forecast calls for scattered showers, but we're hoping they're scattered somewhere else!
Friday, May 16, 2008
SENSE OF SELF
This morning one of the support groups I'm a member of got a wonderful email from a wise and wonderful woman. In it she describes how the coming out process has put her more in touch with her real self. She concluded the email by asking, "How has YOUR SENSE OF SELF shifted?" It didn't take me long to formulate a response and I felt it is an important enough question and response to post here as well.
My "sense of self" has most certainly changed since I fully accepted who I am back in September of 2005. I am more self-confident, calmer (some people would argue this one, but they didn't know me before), and able to think more clearly and with a more positive outlook on life. It didn't all happen at once, but has evolved over the course of 2 1/2 years or so. Meeting and falling in love with Lisa has helped that "sense of self" even more.
Before I came out, both to myself and to the world, I'm not even sure I had a sense of self. I was HIS wife (then HIS ex-wife), THEIR mother, HER daughter, never Glenda, an autonomous, thinking, caring, feeling person. Since I accepted myself, I have also accepted that I AM Glenda as well as all those other things, but now I'm Glenda first. I am Lisa's partner, but I'm Glenda first. I am Labcorp's employee, but I'm Glenda first. And it feels good to know I am an important person, if only in my own heart, soul and mind.
Before I came out, I would NEVER have labeled myself an ARTIST. But guess what, I AM an artist and I'm not a bad artist either. When I was finally able to tell myself I'm an artist AND believe it was almost as liberating a moment as when I was able to tell myself I'm a lesbian and not cringe.
So, all in all, I would definitely say my "sense of self" has not only shifted, but has actually emerged since I came out.
It sometimes amazes me when I look back at the person I was "before" and the person I am now. In so many ways I was beat down, my creativity was denigrated and discouraged (even under guise of encouragement), and my "self" was denied me.
My ex-husband is not a bad man, but he is/was always afraid of being shown up. He always encouraged me to take pictures, but when my photography began to improve to the point of winning competitions over his, he became quite critical. Not only of my photography, but of my writing, my quilt-making, anything that was creative. I doubt he even realized he was doing so, but it made me doubt my abilities and I essentially gave all my creative endeavors up (except the photography. But since I doubted my skills, the photographs suffered and were no where as good as they had been.)
My mother and her "roommate" weren't much better. I had many teachers, from fifth grade on, who told me I was an excellent writer. But when I would write my stories at home, I was "wasting time" and "trying to get out" of doing my chores. And if I let either of them read what I wrote, especially my poetry, they would tell me it made no sense, to put it away and get on with my housework.
My brother and my sister and my mother are/were all talented sketch artists and my sister is a wonderful seamstress. I, too, love to draw and paint, but my art is vastly different from theirs', so it wasn't "any good." "Don't waste the paper and paint, Glenda. Leave it for your brother."
But now I've learned to encourage myself. And Lisa is a huge encouragement to me. Because of her I've had the courage to share my art. And because of the hugely positive response from friends and strangers alike, I now know my art, my photography, my writing, is all good. Of course there's always room for improvement, but that's the case with life itself.
I am learning to be positive about my life. I'm learning to turn negative thinking around and make something positive from it. I'm learning that to be healthy, I have to believe I AM healthy. Since I recovered, or rather discovered, my sense of self, I have found there is a lot of good stuff about and in ME. I have a lot to offer to Lisa as a partner (something I never knew about myself before); I have a lot to offer to society in the way of art; I am a good friend to anyone who wishes to be my friend!
I finally have a "sense of self" and I like the self I've discovered!
My "sense of self" has most certainly changed since I fully accepted who I am back in September of 2005. I am more self-confident, calmer (some people would argue this one, but they didn't know me before), and able to think more clearly and with a more positive outlook on life. It didn't all happen at once, but has evolved over the course of 2 1/2 years or so. Meeting and falling in love with Lisa has helped that "sense of self" even more.
Before I came out, both to myself and to the world, I'm not even sure I had a sense of self. I was HIS wife (then HIS ex-wife), THEIR mother, HER daughter, never Glenda, an autonomous, thinking, caring, feeling person. Since I accepted myself, I have also accepted that I AM Glenda as well as all those other things, but now I'm Glenda first. I am Lisa's partner, but I'm Glenda first. I am Labcorp's employee, but I'm Glenda first. And it feels good to know I am an important person, if only in my own heart, soul and mind.
Before I came out, I would NEVER have labeled myself an ARTIST. But guess what, I AM an artist and I'm not a bad artist either. When I was finally able to tell myself I'm an artist AND believe it was almost as liberating a moment as when I was able to tell myself I'm a lesbian and not cringe.
So, all in all, I would definitely say my "sense of self" has not only shifted, but has actually emerged since I came out.
It sometimes amazes me when I look back at the person I was "before" and the person I am now. In so many ways I was beat down, my creativity was denigrated and discouraged (even under guise of encouragement), and my "self" was denied me.
My ex-husband is not a bad man, but he is/was always afraid of being shown up. He always encouraged me to take pictures, but when my photography began to improve to the point of winning competitions over his, he became quite critical. Not only of my photography, but of my writing, my quilt-making, anything that was creative. I doubt he even realized he was doing so, but it made me doubt my abilities and I essentially gave all my creative endeavors up (except the photography. But since I doubted my skills, the photographs suffered and were no where as good as they had been.)
My mother and her "roommate" weren't much better. I had many teachers, from fifth grade on, who told me I was an excellent writer. But when I would write my stories at home, I was "wasting time" and "trying to get out" of doing my chores. And if I let either of them read what I wrote, especially my poetry, they would tell me it made no sense, to put it away and get on with my housework.
My brother and my sister and my mother are/were all talented sketch artists and my sister is a wonderful seamstress. I, too, love to draw and paint, but my art is vastly different from theirs', so it wasn't "any good." "Don't waste the paper and paint, Glenda. Leave it for your brother."
But now I've learned to encourage myself. And Lisa is a huge encouragement to me. Because of her I've had the courage to share my art. And because of the hugely positive response from friends and strangers alike, I now know my art, my photography, my writing, is all good. Of course there's always room for improvement, but that's the case with life itself.
I am learning to be positive about my life. I'm learning to turn negative thinking around and make something positive from it. I'm learning that to be healthy, I have to believe I AM healthy. Since I recovered, or rather discovered, my sense of self, I have found there is a lot of good stuff about and in ME. I have a lot to offer to Lisa as a partner (something I never knew about myself before); I have a lot to offer to society in the way of art; I am a good friend to anyone who wishes to be my friend!
I finally have a "sense of self" and I like the self I've discovered!
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Writing
My muse has finally returned from her extended vacation. I am finally back to working on my latest novel - working title is Full Circle. Actually, I'm in the process of rewriting what I already wrote. Chapters One and Two are now Chapters One through Twelve. I think it is turning into a rather good story and I really like my main characters.
Anyway, should I not post much here, it is because I'm working on the book. I'll post as often as I think about it or something comes up I want to share.
Anyway, should I not post much here, it is because I'm working on the book. I'll post as often as I think about it or something comes up I want to share.
Getting Healthy
Well, Lisa and I have decided we both need to try to get to a healthy weight and try to do so in as healthy a manner as possible. I'm sick and tired of one or both of us always being sick and tired.
So, I've been doing some research into healthy weight loss and what I'm finding is surprising. For one thing, I've learned that "low-fat" and "fat-free" foods can actually cause your body to produce MORE fat, the sticky saturated fats that like to settle on hips and bellies. I've learned that some fats are absolutely essential for your body to perform properly, especially the brain and heart. And eating the right kinds of fats (such as in nuts - yum, almonds!) can make your body feel full and you won't feel like snacking as much.
Ice cold water actually helps burn calories. And since a person should drink as many ounces as half their body weight (for example, I weigh 180 lbs, so I should drink 90 ounces of water a day), drinking ice water is a big plus towards losing weight.
Drinking or eating diet foods (especially diet soda) can lead to diabetes and other metabolic diseases. One diet soda a day brings you 30% closer to a dibilating disease each day. Sugar substitutes, such as saccharin and aspartame, have been proven to cause cancer, yet the FDA won't outlaw them (hmmm, wonder who the producers of these chemicals have in their pockets?) and Splenda is a by-product of MSG and can and will cause the same health problems MSG does. (MSG is mono-sodium-glutamate for those who don't already know.)
There is no such thing as a successful DIET. A person has to be willing to change their lifestyle for life - eating healthier and in the right proportions and becoming involved in a regular exercise regimen - in order to lose weight and stay healthy while doing so. The word DIET has "DIE" in it; I would rather live!
A wonderful website for more information about healthy weight loss, good fats, and state of mind is www.helpguide.org/life/healthy_weight_loss.htm.
I am in the process now of looking for positive affirmations to use while we are on the journey back to health. In the meantime, I'm training myself to look myself in the eye every morning and say "You have the perfect body just as you are right now. Today you are meeting your calorie and exercise goals. You are healthy and happy," and actually believing it!
One of my goals is to be at my best weight since 1995 by June 15, 2009. To do so, I need to lose 40 pounds in 56 weeks. I think that is a realistic and doable goal.
The other goal is to take part in a ten-mile race in Charleston, SC, on the first weekend of April, 2010. The race starts in Mount Pleasant, crosses the Cooper Street bridge, and ends at Charleston College in historic Charleston. I first read about this race in September of 2005 and thought then how much I would love to walk that race. It crosses one of my favorite rivers and ends in the town I will someday reside in. Back then, I thought it was impossible. Now, I know it is not only possible, but I will do it and I will do it in under 5 hours! (Remember, I'm walking, not running. Five hours means I would be doing a 30-minute mile. I can almost do a 20-minute mile now, so under five hours is quite reasonable!)
So, I've been doing some research into healthy weight loss and what I'm finding is surprising. For one thing, I've learned that "low-fat" and "fat-free" foods can actually cause your body to produce MORE fat, the sticky saturated fats that like to settle on hips and bellies. I've learned that some fats are absolutely essential for your body to perform properly, especially the brain and heart. And eating the right kinds of fats (such as in nuts - yum, almonds!) can make your body feel full and you won't feel like snacking as much.
Ice cold water actually helps burn calories. And since a person should drink as many ounces as half their body weight (for example, I weigh 180 lbs, so I should drink 90 ounces of water a day), drinking ice water is a big plus towards losing weight.
Drinking or eating diet foods (especially diet soda) can lead to diabetes and other metabolic diseases. One diet soda a day brings you 30% closer to a dibilating disease each day. Sugar substitutes, such as saccharin and aspartame, have been proven to cause cancer, yet the FDA won't outlaw them (hmmm, wonder who the producers of these chemicals have in their pockets?) and Splenda is a by-product of MSG and can and will cause the same health problems MSG does. (MSG is mono-sodium-glutamate for those who don't already know.)
There is no such thing as a successful DIET. A person has to be willing to change their lifestyle for life - eating healthier and in the right proportions and becoming involved in a regular exercise regimen - in order to lose weight and stay healthy while doing so. The word DIET has "DIE" in it; I would rather live!
A wonderful website for more information about healthy weight loss, good fats, and state of mind is www.helpguide.org/life/healthy_weight_loss.htm.
I am in the process now of looking for positive affirmations to use while we are on the journey back to health. In the meantime, I'm training myself to look myself in the eye every morning and say "You have the perfect body just as you are right now. Today you are meeting your calorie and exercise goals. You are healthy and happy," and actually believing it!
One of my goals is to be at my best weight since 1995 by June 15, 2009. To do so, I need to lose 40 pounds in 56 weeks. I think that is a realistic and doable goal.
The other goal is to take part in a ten-mile race in Charleston, SC, on the first weekend of April, 2010. The race starts in Mount Pleasant, crosses the Cooper Street bridge, and ends at Charleston College in historic Charleston. I first read about this race in September of 2005 and thought then how much I would love to walk that race. It crosses one of my favorite rivers and ends in the town I will someday reside in. Back then, I thought it was impossible. Now, I know it is not only possible, but I will do it and I will do it in under 5 hours! (Remember, I'm walking, not running. Five hours means I would be doing a 30-minute mile. I can almost do a 20-minute mile now, so under five hours is quite reasonable!)
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Free Ecards
Some of my paintings and photography is now available as free ecards. You can find them at:
http://www.amazingdreamspublishing.com/cards/cards2/indexglendaart.html
http://www.amazingdreamspublishing.com/cards/cards2/indexglendaphoto.html
http://www.amazingdreamspublishing.com/cards/cards2/indexglendaart.html
http://www.amazingdreamspublishing.com/cards/cards2/indexglendaphoto.html
Monday, May 5, 2008
Painting with Words
My writing prompt for today is: Think of one place that is special to you. Paint it in words.
Turn off the hot black asphalt onto a narrow red-dirt road. Feel the vibrations as you cross the first of many cattle guards flanked by rusted barbed wire fences.
Pasture land, green with the new growth of early spring, spreads to the base of the far mesa. Brown and white cows casually watch as you pass by, not at all bothered by the sight of a vehicle crossing their dining table.
The road curves around, becoming gravel. Your car throws up white dust as you pass. The road dips to a low water crossing where a languid stream creeps across the road. There is barely a splash as your tires enter the shallow water.
Pull over here. This is where you spot the first thick cluster of bluebonnets, dancing in the cool breeze funneling down the creek from the far cliffs.
An old farmhouse sits close to the creek, its once white paint grey from many harsh winters. An old rocking chair rocks itself on the sagging porch as the breeze teases a piece of torn screen hanging on the faded green door.
Look up at the creaking windmill, tottering on tired old legs. Those rusty blades once shone bright as they twirled in the Texas wind, proudly pumping fresh water from deep below the ground. Now they whimper in disrepair and neglect.
Red Indian paintbrush mixes with the rich blue of the bluebonnets, their bright colors contrasting with the dull old house they hug. Honeysuckle, not yet in bloom, crawls up the old porch columns, determined to brighten the sadness with its white and yellow fragrant blossoms it will soon put forth.
Continue down the road, through the thick shade of the live oak trees. Movement. A doe, brown and tan, steps out from the brush, followed by two tiny speckled fawns. Stop and let them pass.
Leave the trees behind as you round yet another curve. Catch your breath as sheer red granite cliffs rise above you to the bluest sky in Texas. White dots move along the side of the cliff. Grab your binoculars and watch the daring goats traverse a seemingly impossible path.
The creek meanders along the base of the cliff before turning back towards you. Cross it again and begin the slow climb upward. On either side of the road the bluebonnets blanket the pastures so thickly little green can be seen. Occasional stands of yellow groundsel and red interlopers of Indian paintbrush interrupt the monopoly of blue.
Suddenly the climb upwards becomes quite steep. Your teeth jangle as you cross yet another cattle guard, this one in need of repairs to its loose poles. At the top of the hill, the road curves south. Find a safe place to park and carefully step out to the boulders that line the top of the bluff.
See the waves of blue down in the valley? That lake is not full of water but of Texas bluebonnets. Don't forget to breathe as you take in the magnificence below.
Now turn and look across the road. Look at the boulders, sprinkled with sparkling quartz, running up the face of the hill. Pink primrose and yellow buttercups grow amidst the deceptively barren rocks.
A few more miles and you enter the bustling metropolis of Willow City, Texas. A general store, a post office, a school and a church or two sit within the city limits. Enter the store, its cool dark interior welcome after the bright sunlight. A grape soda and a chocolate bar, rung up by a kindly old woman, and you are on your way to your next adventure.
Turn off the hot black asphalt onto a narrow red-dirt road. Feel the vibrations as you cross the first of many cattle guards flanked by rusted barbed wire fences.
Pasture land, green with the new growth of early spring, spreads to the base of the far mesa. Brown and white cows casually watch as you pass by, not at all bothered by the sight of a vehicle crossing their dining table.
The road curves around, becoming gravel. Your car throws up white dust as you pass. The road dips to a low water crossing where a languid stream creeps across the road. There is barely a splash as your tires enter the shallow water.
Pull over here. This is where you spot the first thick cluster of bluebonnets, dancing in the cool breeze funneling down the creek from the far cliffs.
An old farmhouse sits close to the creek, its once white paint grey from many harsh winters. An old rocking chair rocks itself on the sagging porch as the breeze teases a piece of torn screen hanging on the faded green door.
Look up at the creaking windmill, tottering on tired old legs. Those rusty blades once shone bright as they twirled in the Texas wind, proudly pumping fresh water from deep below the ground. Now they whimper in disrepair and neglect.
Red Indian paintbrush mixes with the rich blue of the bluebonnets, their bright colors contrasting with the dull old house they hug. Honeysuckle, not yet in bloom, crawls up the old porch columns, determined to brighten the sadness with its white and yellow fragrant blossoms it will soon put forth.
Continue down the road, through the thick shade of the live oak trees. Movement. A doe, brown and tan, steps out from the brush, followed by two tiny speckled fawns. Stop and let them pass.
Leave the trees behind as you round yet another curve. Catch your breath as sheer red granite cliffs rise above you to the bluest sky in Texas. White dots move along the side of the cliff. Grab your binoculars and watch the daring goats traverse a seemingly impossible path.
The creek meanders along the base of the cliff before turning back towards you. Cross it again and begin the slow climb upward. On either side of the road the bluebonnets blanket the pastures so thickly little green can be seen. Occasional stands of yellow groundsel and red interlopers of Indian paintbrush interrupt the monopoly of blue.
Suddenly the climb upwards becomes quite steep. Your teeth jangle as you cross yet another cattle guard, this one in need of repairs to its loose poles. At the top of the hill, the road curves south. Find a safe place to park and carefully step out to the boulders that line the top of the bluff.
See the waves of blue down in the valley? That lake is not full of water but of Texas bluebonnets. Don't forget to breathe as you take in the magnificence below.
Now turn and look across the road. Look at the boulders, sprinkled with sparkling quartz, running up the face of the hill. Pink primrose and yellow buttercups grow amidst the deceptively barren rocks.
A few more miles and you enter the bustling metropolis of Willow City, Texas. A general store, a post office, a school and a church or two sit within the city limits. Enter the store, its cool dark interior welcome after the bright sunlight. A grape soda and a chocolate bar, rung up by a kindly old woman, and you are on your way to your next adventure.
A Morning on the Mudflats
Cottonwood snow floats on the breeze, catching in spiderwebs and gathering at the feet of trees. Honeysuckle vines slither among branches and around fence posts, their yellow and white blooms filling the air with sweet aroma. Blackberry brambles compete for space, the promise of luscious berries in the prolific white flowers.
The path, still damp with morning dew, curves and follows the levee around the perimeter of the mud flats. Turtles of all sizes sun themselves on exposed logs, sliding into the water with a plop when startled.
A beaver's lodge rises above one of the stream beds. Its inhabitants are nowhere to be seen, but their presence is evident in the sharply pointed stumps of once hopeful saplings.
A Canadian goose warns of approaching danger and her three fuzzy goslings race to her side. Her mate, hyper-vigilant, watches the sky with one eye and the path with the other. The two communicate with small clucks and clicks. Dad decides all is safe and the babies wander out from beneath their mother. They pluck at the grass as they make their way to the edge of the water. The family wades in and swims away, Mom in the lead, Dad bringing up the rear, the babies single-file between them.
A hawk cries out from the trees beyond the flats. The geese circle their babies, urging them to land where Mom shields them from sight beneath her wide, safe wings. The hawk appears - a sharp-shin hawk, the white bars across his tail bright in the morning light. He circles the flats - once, twice - then he catches an upward draft and soars high until he is a mere speck in the blue.
Great blue herons roost in the tops of two tall pine trees. Several large nests inhabit the sky high rookery. One heron stands in watch over the nests, a giant already, but even more so at the top of the tree. The other herons fish in the shallow, brackish water below.
The herons fish alone, moving stealthily through the water, head cocked to catch the movement of their prey. Lightning fast, a heron's head darts into the water, rising with its prize of a silvery sliver of writhing fish. The heron tosses his head, his neck flexing as the fish slides into his gullet.
A tiny kingbird perches on a stump that rises just above the surface of the water. Her grey feathers blend so well into the background she is hard to spot except for the song - "zeer, ti-t-t-t-ti-zeer" - she sings as she waits for an unsuspecting insect to fly by. Dragonflies, damsel flies and a variety of butterflies dart among the reeds along with flies and moths and other flying things. The kingbird doesn't wait long before flying straight up, landing again with a red moth firmly pinned in her beak.
The path has circled back to its starting point with its abundance of honeysuckle and blackberries hanging heavy with flowers. Large bumblebees bumble from bloom to bloom, while smaller bees rush to gather their pollen. The bees buzzing joins the orchestra of trilling finches and warblers and the songs of the frogs. The sun warms the earth, a new day well under way.
The path, still damp with morning dew, curves and follows the levee around the perimeter of the mud flats. Turtles of all sizes sun themselves on exposed logs, sliding into the water with a plop when startled.
A beaver's lodge rises above one of the stream beds. Its inhabitants are nowhere to be seen, but their presence is evident in the sharply pointed stumps of once hopeful saplings.
A Canadian goose warns of approaching danger and her three fuzzy goslings race to her side. Her mate, hyper-vigilant, watches the sky with one eye and the path with the other. The two communicate with small clucks and clicks. Dad decides all is safe and the babies wander out from beneath their mother. They pluck at the grass as they make their way to the edge of the water. The family wades in and swims away, Mom in the lead, Dad bringing up the rear, the babies single-file between them.
A hawk cries out from the trees beyond the flats. The geese circle their babies, urging them to land where Mom shields them from sight beneath her wide, safe wings. The hawk appears - a sharp-shin hawk, the white bars across his tail bright in the morning light. He circles the flats - once, twice - then he catches an upward draft and soars high until he is a mere speck in the blue.
Great blue herons roost in the tops of two tall pine trees. Several large nests inhabit the sky high rookery. One heron stands in watch over the nests, a giant already, but even more so at the top of the tree. The other herons fish in the shallow, brackish water below.
The herons fish alone, moving stealthily through the water, head cocked to catch the movement of their prey. Lightning fast, a heron's head darts into the water, rising with its prize of a silvery sliver of writhing fish. The heron tosses his head, his neck flexing as the fish slides into his gullet.
A tiny kingbird perches on a stump that rises just above the surface of the water. Her grey feathers blend so well into the background she is hard to spot except for the song - "zeer, ti-t-t-t-ti-zeer" - she sings as she waits for an unsuspecting insect to fly by. Dragonflies, damsel flies and a variety of butterflies dart among the reeds along with flies and moths and other flying things. The kingbird doesn't wait long before flying straight up, landing again with a red moth firmly pinned in her beak.
The path has circled back to its starting point with its abundance of honeysuckle and blackberries hanging heavy with flowers. Large bumblebees bumble from bloom to bloom, while smaller bees rush to gather their pollen. The bees buzzing joins the orchestra of trilling finches and warblers and the songs of the frogs. The sun warms the earth, a new day well under way.
Friday, May 2, 2008
My Ideal Life
I've been challenged by several books and articles to write what my ideal life would be like. Every one of them said to write it as though it is already true. So, here goes. I'm sure it's not complete, so I may add more later.
My Ideal Life
I live on the Atlantic coast, somewhere between Nag's Head, NC, and St. Mary's, GA, but not in the Myrtle Beach, SC, area. I live in a large yellow house with white trim with Lisa, the love of my life, and our cats and dogs.
From the back of the house we have direct access to the beach via a long, well-cared for walkway (looks like wood, but is actually that composite stuff that never rots). The walkway, at irregular intervals widens to accomodate a covered and well-lit sitting areas.
The house is large and airy and spacious with a modern, up-to-date kitchen (stainless appliances, lots of gadgets to play with, lots of cabinets and counter tops) that opens to an eating area and large living space. Large windows line the entire area, looking out over the back porch and deck. The view stretches out forever to the ocean and the far horizon. The porch is screened in, with windows that close snuggly to protect the porch and its inhabitants from inclement weather.
Hardwood floors are throughout the house with intermittent, brightly colored throw rugs. The walls are covered with Lisa's and my photography and artwork and other pictures that we love. The furniture is comfortable and inviting and pet friendly.
The dogs and cats have the run of most of the house and porch, but there are also two rooms set aside strictly for them. In the dog room are comfortable kennels with access to outdoor runs. The cats also have access to an outside play area that is entirely enclosed for their safety and protection. Both rooms are outfitted with filters to help filter out the inevitable odors animals sometimes emit and keep them from the rest of the house.
Our master bedroom suite is huge. It includes a comfortable sitting area where we can relax with a good book or our laptops (wireless internet is available throughout the house and out to the sitting areas on the walkway). The king size bed is made up in lively colored linens and bright comforter. Dimming switches for the overhead lights are within easy reach of either sid of the bed.
Two walk-in closets have built in drawers for our clothing as well as plenty of space for our shoes and hanging up clothes. Between them is the wonderful master bath with its whirlpool tub situated in front of large windows that afford the bather with a view of the ocean and horizon. A massive, glassed in shower has multiple shower heads, many with massaging action. The long double vanity with its raised sinks offers plenty of room for both of us to be preparing for our day or night at the same time.
On either side of the master suite are our private sleeping rooms for those nights we just need to be alone with our thoughts or when Lisa wants the dogs to sleep with her (they are banned from the king size bed!).
I also have a well-stocked craft studio with everything I could ever need or want to paint or collage or sew. Next to it is my office (both rooms are brightly lit and airy). My office has a large desk with a comfortable chair and bookcases that go about two-thirds up the walls. The bookcases are full of books I love, including my own published novels, Lisa's children's books and Chame's volumes of poetry.
Lisa's office and media room are just down the hall. Her office is set up just the way she wants. The media room has a large plasma TV on one wall with all the recording devices anyone could wish for. Comfortable chairs and sofas are positioned for easy viewing. The state-of-the-art stereo system can be broadcast to any or all the rooms in the house and out onto the deck and walkway. Large cabinets house all the DVDs and CDs she ever wished for.
Several guest suites occupy the upper floor and a small guest cottage is positioned between the house and the dunes. The spacious yard is dotted with small flower beds full of every kind of flower ever known to grow in the coastal climate. Bird feeders, bird baths and bird house are everywhere. A vegetable and herb garden is situated at the base of the deck steps, convenient to whoever is cooking, whether in the outdoor kitchen or the indoor kitchen. An enclosed and heated swimming pool and hot tub are popular gathering places for our friends and guests.
The large garage, connected to the house by an arbor covered walkway heavy with trumpet vine, house my green Honda Element, loaded with every amenity, and Lisa's silver Silverado pick-up truck. The far end of the garage is home to our large camping trailer when we aren't pulling it with Lisa's truck to our next destination. Traveling is one of our favorite hobbies. Above the garage is our well-organized, climate controlled storage area.
Lisa and I both have jobs we love and look forward to. I work at a job where I make a difference; where there is a good team because everyone cares deeply about what they do; where longevity is the norm rather than the exception; and whre I am accepted and respected for who I am.
We have a lorge group of friends with whom we network with and socialize with on a regualr basis, including Chame and Marline. My kids come out to visit on a regualr basis as do Christie and CT and their kids.
Even though I work at a job I love, I still have plenty of time to devote to my writing, my photography and my painting. I continue to prove myself worthy of publishing with both my writing and my photography in great demand.
The relationship Lisa and I have continues to deepen and to grow. Our love is palpable and friends often comment on it.
We are active together in a local church. We are members of a dinner club and other social groups. We spend time together birdwatching, shell seeking, beach walking, camping and just lounging.
I am able to release all grudges and resentment and am able to forgive quickly. I am able to be angry without being ugly or throwing a tantrum. My health and weight are at their best. I compete regularly in half and full marathons as a racewalker. I am a mentor to young women and latebloomers alike at the local LGBT community center.
I love my life and have never been happier.
Oh, by the way, my clothing of choice is still jeans and a t-shirt during the winter, switching to shorts when the weather is war. A good pair of sneakers, a pair of walking shoes, and a pair of Earth sandals are good enough for everyday and a cute pair of boots for going out. And my hair is still short!
Release
originally written May 1, 2008
In reading The Secret and many articles on the Internet, I have come to understand that one of the reasons I am chronically unhappy, chronically ill, and chronically angry is I haven't released my past. I hold on to it, to all the hurts and regrets and disappointments, as though it is a security blanket of some kind.
I just had this thought: So what if Mom died without forgiving me? That was her problem, not mine. Oh, I feel as if a huge weight just lifted off my heart. I feel freer now than ever before.
Now I can get on with forgiving myself, letting go of the things Mom wouldn't forgive me for. Now I realize that by worrying Mom never forgave me, I was unable to forgive myself. I can admit I made mistakes in the past but I don't have to let those mistakes haunt me for the rest of my life.
Another realization: So what if people hold grudges against me or don't approve of me for one reason or another? That's THEIR problem, not mine, their energy wasted, not mine. If I've done something wrong and I've sincerely apologized and tried to make whatever "it" was right, the onus is on the other person to accept that. If they choose not to, that's their choice. It's time for me to release it, to let it go. I don't have to keep apologizing, keep trying to make it right, keep trying to gain their approval. I've done my part. Now, it's the other person's choice whether to do their part or not. If they choose not to, it's not my problem!
I do have to release the grudges I am holding against people as well. Grudges zap my energy and ocntinue to bring negativity into my life. Holding grudges and resentment does no one any good, especially the person holding them. Even if the other person never apologizes to me, never tries to make things right, never makes the effort, I have to forgive them and move on.
I also have to release the resentment I feel towards people. I can't resent them for their accomplishments. Resentment gets me no closer to my goals. I should be happy others have reached their goals and if it's someone I respect, I should pick their brains on the steps they took to get there. Otherwise, congratulate them, even if it's in my own mind, and move on.
I make mistakes. I made mistakes in the past. I will make some more in the future. The key is to admit the mistake; strive to correct it if possible; and learn from it. But, most importantly, I must forgive myself!
In reading The Secret and many articles on the Internet, I have come to understand that one of the reasons I am chronically unhappy, chronically ill, and chronically angry is I haven't released my past. I hold on to it, to all the hurts and regrets and disappointments, as though it is a security blanket of some kind.
I just had this thought: So what if Mom died without forgiving me? That was her problem, not mine. Oh, I feel as if a huge weight just lifted off my heart. I feel freer now than ever before.
Now I can get on with forgiving myself, letting go of the things Mom wouldn't forgive me for. Now I realize that by worrying Mom never forgave me, I was unable to forgive myself. I can admit I made mistakes in the past but I don't have to let those mistakes haunt me for the rest of my life.
Another realization: So what if people hold grudges against me or don't approve of me for one reason or another? That's THEIR problem, not mine, their energy wasted, not mine. If I've done something wrong and I've sincerely apologized and tried to make whatever "it" was right, the onus is on the other person to accept that. If they choose not to, that's their choice. It's time for me to release it, to let it go. I don't have to keep apologizing, keep trying to make it right, keep trying to gain their approval. I've done my part. Now, it's the other person's choice whether to do their part or not. If they choose not to, it's not my problem!
I do have to release the grudges I am holding against people as well. Grudges zap my energy and ocntinue to bring negativity into my life. Holding grudges and resentment does no one any good, especially the person holding them. Even if the other person never apologizes to me, never tries to make things right, never makes the effort, I have to forgive them and move on.
I also have to release the resentment I feel towards people. I can't resent them for their accomplishments. Resentment gets me no closer to my goals. I should be happy others have reached their goals and if it's someone I respect, I should pick their brains on the steps they took to get there. Otherwise, congratulate them, even if it's in my own mind, and move on.
I make mistakes. I made mistakes in the past. I will make some more in the future. The key is to admit the mistake; strive to correct it if possible; and learn from it. But, most importantly, I must forgive myself!
Anger
originally written Friday, April 25, 2008
The anger surged out of me, unexpected and uncontrolled. Such a minor issue to piss me off so thoroughly. And then it's made worse when I'm told to "calm down," to "sit down and breathe," to "get over it." I'm embarrassed enough by my behavior and my outburst without the reminders and the perceived lectures.
I hate it when I get that angry over seemingly nothing. I wish I could understand where it comes from and why. I could blame it on my emotions being raw since tomorrow is the anniversary of Mom's death. Oh, how I miss her! And how angry she would be with me acting the way I did last night. And she would never let me forget it, would force me to live it over and over, would tell anyone who would listen about how awful I was. And still I miss her.
I embarrassed my friends and made a fool of myself to countless others. People don't forget me because of how horrible I act, not because of anything outstanding I have ever done. I hate that about myself. I wish I knew how to stop it. I wish I knew how to "let it roll off my back." But I don't. I don't know how not to let these little things get under my skin, how not to let my buttons get pushed, how to stay calm when these things happen. Why can't I be mad without making a scene?
But the question still begs to be answered - Why do I get this mad to begin with? What precipitates my anger? How can I learn to step back and breathe instead of reacting? I'm tired of reacting the way I do. I want to call a truce with that side of me, with that angry, tantrum throwing little girl.
The anger surged out of me, unexpected and uncontrolled. Such a minor issue to piss me off so thoroughly. And then it's made worse when I'm told to "calm down," to "sit down and breathe," to "get over it." I'm embarrassed enough by my behavior and my outburst without the reminders and the perceived lectures.
I hate it when I get that angry over seemingly nothing. I wish I could understand where it comes from and why. I could blame it on my emotions being raw since tomorrow is the anniversary of Mom's death. Oh, how I miss her! And how angry she would be with me acting the way I did last night. And she would never let me forget it, would force me to live it over and over, would tell anyone who would listen about how awful I was. And still I miss her.
I embarrassed my friends and made a fool of myself to countless others. People don't forget me because of how horrible I act, not because of anything outstanding I have ever done. I hate that about myself. I wish I knew how to stop it. I wish I knew how to "let it roll off my back." But I don't. I don't know how not to let these little things get under my skin, how not to let my buttons get pushed, how to stay calm when these things happen. Why can't I be mad without making a scene?
But the question still begs to be answered - Why do I get this mad to begin with? What precipitates my anger? How can I learn to step back and breathe instead of reacting? I'm tired of reacting the way I do. I want to call a truce with that side of me, with that angry, tantrum throwing little girl.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Self-assessment
I do a lot of free-writing (put pen to paper and don't stop writing until X number of pages are full or X number of minutes has passed). Sometimes I have a topic, sometimes I don't. This is one of the writings I did last week. I think the topic was "Tell me about yourself." I have cleaned it up from the original; otherwise it wouldn't make much sense.
Who I Am
There is so much of me that I don't know or understand. Some days I don't like myself, not even a little bit. Other times I'm proud of the self I manifest to the world.
I can be a scared little girl who wants to hide from the outside world as much as possible. I can be a shrew that people shrink away from. I can be stubborn and mean, unmoveable, but wishing I wasn't. Awful, horrible things can come out of my mouth, things I'm terribly ashamed of later.
But I can also be gentle and loving and giving. Sympathetic and caring. I can spew words of wisdom I have no idea where came from and that I seem to forget as soon as they are spoken.
I'm capable of having a sting to my words in one sentence and consolation in the next. I can be intelligent and incredibly stupid in an amazingly short period of time.
I'm observent yet careless. I'm a slob but crave organization. I am talented but don't always recognize it. Some days I have such low self-estem I can't understand how or why anyone could love me.
I am lazy but industrious. I have tunnel vision and can only seem to concentrate on one project at a time, often to the detriment of projects already started.
I am beautiful and I am ugly. I love my thick hair and blue eyes. I hate my teeth and crooked fingers. I like my sense of humor and hate my sensitivity.
I am a good partner, most of the time. I love thoroughly and with all my heart. but I can be clingy to the people I love.
originally written Wednesday, April 23, 2008
My first blog
Well, I've jumped on the bandwagon and started a blog. I've been doing so much journaling lately (instead of working on my next novel!) and I have been trying to figure out the best way to share some of what I've written. I finally decided this just might be it. I hope I don't bore any of you to death and I do welcome comments on what I've written.
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