Well a chapter of the book has ended. Today was the last day on the job. The job that has been good to me and nice enough to let me be there; but not the place I am supposed to be. Now I have to go out into the big scary world and find out who I am supposed to be and what is to become of me.
The final days were harrowing and filled with only the drama that this agency can bring. It was littered with all the secrets I am not allowed to print and all of the sameness that is the reason I must go. I load the CD's from my desk, the paperweight with the picture on my nieces and nephews, the Excellence in Management awards (2005, 2011) the certificate from the State of Georgia for 5 years of faithful service (seems so long ago) and the 9 1/2 years worth of thank you cards, into the box.
I leave the stapler and good pens but contemplate the laminating machine. I take the sailboat picture from the facing wall and the Monet from behind my desk and lay them in the truck.
There is a cookie with Thank You Sharyn written on it & big chocolate flowers, and beautiful people around the Staff Cafe table. Tonight there will be a glass of wine and crab cakes at a local favorite and more beautiful people around a table. Cards with heartfelt messages of encouragement and love; and a gift that says - they were completely paying attention.
I know as I drive away and the building gets smaller and smaller in my rear view mirror the memory of me within this building will also get smaller and smaller. But at this moment I am full. I surmise I have done good and made a contribution that was worthwhile and meaningful. I see the human contacts I have made over the years as they float down my face. Then I see the rainbow. Now I go in search of my pot of gold.
I hope you will turn the page with me to see if I ever find it...
Recipes: when you combine a meaningful job and beautiful people you create an amazing chapter!
Roadtrips: nine and a half years of filling the hallways with your laugh, is a good run.
Renovations: only look in the rear view mirror for as long as it takes for you to appreciate the journey.
Friday, July 29, 2011
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
This One's For the Girls!
Today I had lunch with the group of ladies I have had lunch with once a month for at least the past four years. We all carry the same job description at work in a heavy backpack. Once a month we have assembled from our various county clinics to meet at the agency hub to mull over no less then 30 agenda items and begin planning around 10:30 am where we would be going for lunch.
When I first started attending these meetings I didn't think I had anything in common with these women; least of all our clinic's were nothing alike. I didn't think I fit in and rarely had anything to say. As they will all tell you, it wasn't long until I emerged as a very vocal participant. After all, it is physically impossible for me to not show what I am thinking and feeling. Oddly enough, they accepted my opinions and encouraged my boldness.
Today, as we circled around the Red Lobster 7 top and took our seats, the moment was not lost on me. This is the last time I will gather with these women. And though we say, keep in touch, life has taught us that those words blow in the wind.
When I think about my time with these ladies, away from the lunch table, I decide that I can sum up the work we have done and the role we play at this place as the stay at home moms of Advantage. And everyone else in the agency is that husband who comes home at 6 and wants you to get him a beer and leaves the seat up on all your hard work. We have had the great pleasure of knowing where the Band aids are kept and what day all the bills are due and how to adjust the faucet in the 1/2 bath. We know what Tommy will and will not eat for lunch and further more we prepare it every morning. We know where the dryer hides the socks and we stay up all night when throw up is involved. The recycling goes out on Thursday and the PTA meeting is tonight at 6 and if we don't get it out or go there, no one will. The cost of hotdogs has risen so much that buying Nathens' is actually the deal and our 'husbands' have no idea. They will tell us to buy Oscar Myer and wonder why the check bounces. The accolades are few and far between; no one ever cleans the dishwasher for us.
But, we have the great good fortune of running a home. And I hope you all will never loose site of that.
Ladies, it has been a beautiful time.
Recipes: Cheddar Bay Biscuits, Red Lobster
Roadtrips: When someone takes the time to come all the way in from the next county, go to lunch with them.
Renovations: it is OK that you are the only one who knows where the dryer hides the socks. You will live.
When I first started attending these meetings I didn't think I had anything in common with these women; least of all our clinic's were nothing alike. I didn't think I fit in and rarely had anything to say. As they will all tell you, it wasn't long until I emerged as a very vocal participant. After all, it is physically impossible for me to not show what I am thinking and feeling. Oddly enough, they accepted my opinions and encouraged my boldness.
Today, as we circled around the Red Lobster 7 top and took our seats, the moment was not lost on me. This is the last time I will gather with these women. And though we say, keep in touch, life has taught us that those words blow in the wind.
When I think about my time with these ladies, away from the lunch table, I decide that I can sum up the work we have done and the role we play at this place as the stay at home moms of Advantage. And everyone else in the agency is that husband who comes home at 6 and wants you to get him a beer and leaves the seat up on all your hard work. We have had the great pleasure of knowing where the Band aids are kept and what day all the bills are due and how to adjust the faucet in the 1/2 bath. We know what Tommy will and will not eat for lunch and further more we prepare it every morning. We know where the dryer hides the socks and we stay up all night when throw up is involved. The recycling goes out on Thursday and the PTA meeting is tonight at 6 and if we don't get it out or go there, no one will. The cost of hotdogs has risen so much that buying Nathens' is actually the deal and our 'husbands' have no idea. They will tell us to buy Oscar Myer and wonder why the check bounces. The accolades are few and far between; no one ever cleans the dishwasher for us.
But, we have the great good fortune of running a home. And I hope you all will never loose site of that.
Ladies, it has been a beautiful time.
Recipes: Cheddar Bay Biscuits, Red Lobster
Roadtrips: When someone takes the time to come all the way in from the next county, go to lunch with them.
Renovations: it is OK that you are the only one who knows where the dryer hides the socks. You will live.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
The Ties that Bind: REM, the Entrepreneurial Spirit & Birthday Cards
Last Friday night we piled into my brother's Jeep. My nieces Jessica and Amanda, my brother Wade and me; and headed to Jamaica Flava, an hour or so away, to see the musical genius of the family. Katie and her band, Friday Knights, were 'bout to perform their first lounge gig. I think it is only their 4th or 5th live gig overall so this ain't bad for a pack of 11,12 an 13 year-old's. It was also an evening that my brother and his family were making a big deal about my resent birthday. So, it had all the makings of the perfect night!
On the ride down we discussed the upcoming tailgate season; the fact that the girl's grandfather was in an REM video and the things we would do if we had the money. Amanda would buy a surround sound system and a record player; Jessica would go to the spa and have her hair and makeup done and I would buy a Vintage Shasta Camper to take on my roadtrip this Fall. My brother just kept saying things like; oh yeah that would be cool, you could probably get a good deal on a sound system; uh, but Jess a surround system lasts several years, a haircut only lasts about a day and; is that safe to be camping alone. I know he has dreams of things he would purchase if he could but I think he didn't throw out anything because he is well aware he will be buying haircuts and textbooks for several more years to come. His purchases are their necessities at this stage of the game.
We were close to the half way point when someone realized Jessica's Tokyo Hotel music had been playing the whole time. She is obsessed with this band in a rather lonely capacity. Everyone else in the car chooses REM to replace TH; similarly to other car rides where everyone else chooses U2 or Mumford and Sons. Jessica doesn't care, she is going to be a model and marry Bill Kaulitz.
While listening to REM we reminisce about that time Grandpa was in that REM video and we talk about how we no longer have the video, for inexplicable reasons I can't bring myself to share, and begin to devise a plan to trace down another copy. We offer each other suggestions; as at this point we are not even sure we can remember the song. It turns out Amanda holds a wild card in that she has Michael Stipe's eye wear and could hold it hostage. Her job is working for the doctor who takes care of Stipe's eyes. Hell of a job diagnosing what that man sees!
Mr. Stipe has a reputation in this town as being someone who does not like attention thrown his way; as this is his home. Though I wonder how much of that is lore, after all, who sets out to be a member of one of the greatest band in history but doesn't want to be noticed.
I imagine back to that time when the REM crew came to St Mary's Hospital, where Dad worked security, to film their video footage and I see my Dad skipping his dialysis exchange so he could say yes to Micheal's people. 'Yeah, I'll do it; my son loves them. He talks about you all the time; I had to constantly tell him to turn down the crap.'
I pretend Michael saw it this way; he thinks Daddy is cool, and interesting and had a story of his own to tell. And Daddy thinking 'what the hell does Wade see in these knuckleheads'. Because of this connection I think I would break the Athens Cardinal Rule and speak to Michael Stipe and tell him how special he is to our family; even if all he wants is to be left alone to buy a vegan salad from Co-op Grocery.
When we arrived at the Jamaica Flava we were curious to say the least. There is no denying there is a lot of milk toast in our entourage. And this lounge was in a diverse neck of the woods to be sure. As usual the children will lead and we entered with our Friday Knights consisting of one mixed race drummer, one African American guitarist; one rockin' chick; and a few junior milk toasters. It was early so the place was empty. We all filled up on the Jamaica Food Flava side of things with Jerk Chicken, Oxtail, Chicken Curry and Plantains and deceptive brown gravy.. REALLY GOOD FOOD! The night was off and running.
There were so many things going on in this tiny establishment. The Food; women set up selling jewelry; there was a bar, which for a Friday night was very sparse...some Gin, Vodka, Hennessy, Inglenook Wine and Corona or Heineken Beer; but not enough Cranberry Juice; oh and when you said 'yes, I would like lime in my Corona', they poured lime juice from a bottle.
Then, there was the talent side of the abode. Everyone behaved like family and each person appeared to shine in their moment or was at least cheered on as though they were surely going to be famous. A quite but confident MC assured everyone that their creativity would be embraced..
It was open MIC night and the Friday Knights were up first. They were to play two songs; kicking off was Katie with Heartbreaker by Pat Benetar:
Yeah...I know right; she is a firework! If you know her you well up with pride and it shows itself in tears and loud screams. If you don't know her; you want to and it shows in loud screams. It is pretty stunning to see this petite being that you adore belt out and capture a crowd of strangers with such ease; they hold her in their pocket like a lucky charm.
On the ride down we discussed the upcoming tailgate season; the fact that the girl's grandfather was in an REM video and the things we would do if we had the money. Amanda would buy a surround sound system and a record player; Jessica would go to the spa and have her hair and makeup done and I would buy a Vintage Shasta Camper to take on my roadtrip this Fall. My brother just kept saying things like; oh yeah that would be cool, you could probably get a good deal on a sound system; uh, but Jess a surround system lasts several years, a haircut only lasts about a day and; is that safe to be camping alone. I know he has dreams of things he would purchase if he could but I think he didn't throw out anything because he is well aware he will be buying haircuts and textbooks for several more years to come. His purchases are their necessities at this stage of the game.
We were close to the half way point when someone realized Jessica's Tokyo Hotel music had been playing the whole time. She is obsessed with this band in a rather lonely capacity. Everyone else in the car chooses REM to replace TH; similarly to other car rides where everyone else chooses U2 or Mumford and Sons. Jessica doesn't care, she is going to be a model and marry Bill Kaulitz.
While listening to REM we reminisce about that time Grandpa was in that REM video and we talk about how we no longer have the video, for inexplicable reasons I can't bring myself to share, and begin to devise a plan to trace down another copy. We offer each other suggestions; as at this point we are not even sure we can remember the song. It turns out Amanda holds a wild card in that she has Michael Stipe's eye wear and could hold it hostage. Her job is working for the doctor who takes care of Stipe's eyes. Hell of a job diagnosing what that man sees!
Mr. Stipe has a reputation in this town as being someone who does not like attention thrown his way; as this is his home. Though I wonder how much of that is lore, after all, who sets out to be a member of one of the greatest band in history but doesn't want to be noticed.
I imagine back to that time when the REM crew came to St Mary's Hospital, where Dad worked security, to film their video footage and I see my Dad skipping his dialysis exchange so he could say yes to Micheal's people. 'Yeah, I'll do it; my son loves them. He talks about you all the time; I had to constantly tell him to turn down the crap.'
I pretend Michael saw it this way; he thinks Daddy is cool, and interesting and had a story of his own to tell. And Daddy thinking 'what the hell does Wade see in these knuckleheads'. Because of this connection I think I would break the Athens Cardinal Rule and speak to Michael Stipe and tell him how special he is to our family; even if all he wants is to be left alone to buy a vegan salad from Co-op Grocery.
When we arrived at the Jamaica Flava we were curious to say the least. There is no denying there is a lot of milk toast in our entourage. And this lounge was in a diverse neck of the woods to be sure. As usual the children will lead and we entered with our Friday Knights consisting of one mixed race drummer, one African American guitarist; one rockin' chick; and a few junior milk toasters. It was early so the place was empty. We all filled up on the Jamaica Food Flava side of things with Jerk Chicken, Oxtail, Chicken Curry and Plantains and deceptive brown gravy.. REALLY GOOD FOOD! The night was off and running.
There were so many things going on in this tiny establishment. The Food; women set up selling jewelry; there was a bar, which for a Friday night was very sparse...some Gin, Vodka, Hennessy, Inglenook Wine and Corona or Heineken Beer; but not enough Cranberry Juice; oh and when you said 'yes, I would like lime in my Corona', they poured lime juice from a bottle.
Then, there was the talent side of the abode. Everyone behaved like family and each person appeared to shine in their moment or was at least cheered on as though they were surely going to be famous. A quite but confident MC assured everyone that their creativity would be embraced..
It was open MIC night and the Friday Knights were up first. They were to play two songs; kicking off was Katie with Heartbreaker by Pat Benetar:
Yeah...I know right; she is a firework! If you know her you well up with pride and it shows itself in tears and loud screams. If you don't know her; you want to and it shows in loud screams. It is pretty stunning to see this petite being that you adore belt out and capture a crowd of strangers with such ease; they hold her in their pocket like a lucky charm.
While hanging out at the Flava Lounge my loved ones celebrated me with a birthday bag full of items to take me into my new journey. I am so amazed at how they have embraced my pre-midlife crisis. When I open the card from the kids, I hesitated briefly enough to where no one noticed but long enough to realize; I have seen this card before....but where? Then in the second set; I got a shout out from the band – 'Happy Birthday to Aunt Sharyn; is Aunt Sharyn in the house? Whoooo!! I love how everyone calls me Aunt Sharyn as if that is my name; like Mary Beth or Sarah Anne. There is nothing old about the band giving you a shout out; even if they are 11, 12 and 13.
Throughout the evening my brother and I would exchange ideas on how we could make both our American Entrepreneurial dreams come true – the way it clearly was happening at the Jamaica Flava. We threw out ideas for reality TV; what the ultimate restaurant would look like; could he handle the band booking while I handle the menu; we went on and on. Mostly, we were inspired.
Jamaica Flava makes me want to be authentic and inspired...like the Oxtail, Plantains and the Heartbreaker.
After the show we loaded up and headed down HWY 20 with a little more hope and a little bigger dream then when we headed in. Amanda said 'Dad, #7 and crank it up'...
Back in Athens, we all part ways. I arrive home and go to the fridge for some good cold water and there on the door I see what I saw earlier. The birthday card. Only that one was from my sister's kids; Catherine, Nicholas and Victoria. My nieces and nephews from Athens to Canton love me. I hit the pillow and sleep well.
Recipes: Ask for the Brown Gravy at Jamaica Flava...and some H20.
Roadtrips: Jamaica Flava; I 20 exit 68 off Wesley Chapel RD; .03 miles on the right.
Renovations: ...go someplace out of your comfort zone and be inspired...
Roadtrips: Jamaica Flava; I 20 exit 68 off Wesley Chapel RD; .03 miles on the right.
Renovations: ...go someplace out of your comfort zone and be inspired...
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Happy New Year!
Today is my birthday. Everything was perfect about this day. I woke up to a beautiful sunrise...
... I knew it was going to be a beautiful day and I wonder why I don't always try to wake with the sun. I am pretty sure it has been years since I gave a damn about my birthday. Years since I didn't wish it was just a Tuesday or Saturday and that it only had 2 hours in it; 'cause anyone can feel lonely, and desperate and cry for 2 hours and come out the other side. I never knew how sad I have been until I woke up this morning with such joy and hope and certainty.
When I got to work, no one knew it was my birthday. I like that. There is no pressure to respond to all the well wishes and the 'what are you doing to celebrate', etc. No one knew of course until the flowers and chocolates arrived from my Dad!
(You may have to refer back to Turn on the TV for reference; the card is signed Love, Brett Butler, Scott Baio, Paul Newman.)
It is moments like this that you know you are loved. My hope is everyone receives flowers from their Dad who is hanging in heaven with Paul. And where I have my prime suspects, and am grateful they read my bog; I like thinking I was delivered flowers and candy from my Dad today!
There were a few detours on this day; there was the 'inviting' someone to resign moment; spending the day in the chart room; and without the gory details, trust me those moments sucked. But they sucked like a teeth cleaning and not the root canals of birthdays past.
And then there are moments, like just a minute ago; where I find tears streaming down my face and I realize I am actually pursuing happiness. Today is the start of my new year...
Recipes: my birthday meal was succulent extra large shrimp, fresh avocado salad (yes, I am obsessed with avocado) and champagne! It's New Years for crying out loud!
Roadtrips: Took a trip to heaven today and that ain't a bad way to spend a birthday!
Renovations: Birthday 2010=sad; Birthday 2011=open to the possibility!
Monday, July 18, 2011
The Final Countdown!
Today I started the final countdown at work with only ten days remaining. I am giddy in a borderline inappropriate way. On my drive in to work this morning I also became anxious and petrified that I have made the biggest mistake of my life. I wanted to throw up.
But that is silly, I have made colossal mistakes time and time again and none have made me near this excited. I still could throw up though.
I still can't believe in just a few months I will be somewhere else. I will be handing out my new zip code and area code. The next door neighbor won't know what to make of me and probably won't want to help me with my dead battery. Where will I get my fresh vegetables; my wine; my exercise. Will there be a dishwasher in my new place, God I hope so; I have always wanted one of those.
I have never been this settled before a major move. Most places I have lived in the past, I usually still had 3 good sized boxes I had never even unpacked. Here, I woke up last night in a panic that I will forget the holiday gear in the attic. I have Christmas yard art for crying out loud. Gone are the days of throwing the emergency Vegas wear in the car and moving. I am a grown up now. And I have a hell of a lot of books and albums and tee-shirts and cookware; and three bedrooms worth of furniture. I remember when I barely had enough furniture to fill a studio apartment and not look like a squatter.
I am thinking, yard sale! All I need where I am going is my dream; and maybe a good set of knives.
Oh Lord! Tomorrow there will only be nine work days left...and then I will shift my panic to being unemployed in these disastrous economic times.
Recipes: The perfect avocado and garden fresh tomato with a little s&p! I love to just take my avocado boats and scoop away that creamy goodness then rotate with that beautiful tomato that just came from your neighbor's garden. YUM!
Road trips: seriously gonna have to research some u-hauls!
Renovations: it is OK to be terrified!
But that is silly, I have made colossal mistakes time and time again and none have made me near this excited. I still could throw up though.
I still can't believe in just a few months I will be somewhere else. I will be handing out my new zip code and area code. The next door neighbor won't know what to make of me and probably won't want to help me with my dead battery. Where will I get my fresh vegetables; my wine; my exercise. Will there be a dishwasher in my new place, God I hope so; I have always wanted one of those.
I have never been this settled before a major move. Most places I have lived in the past, I usually still had 3 good sized boxes I had never even unpacked. Here, I woke up last night in a panic that I will forget the holiday gear in the attic. I have Christmas yard art for crying out loud. Gone are the days of throwing the emergency Vegas wear in the car and moving. I am a grown up now. And I have a hell of a lot of books and albums and tee-shirts and cookware; and three bedrooms worth of furniture. I remember when I barely had enough furniture to fill a studio apartment and not look like a squatter.
I am thinking, yard sale! All I need where I am going is my dream; and maybe a good set of knives.
Oh Lord! Tomorrow there will only be nine work days left...and then I will shift my panic to being unemployed in these disastrous economic times.
Recipes: The perfect avocado and garden fresh tomato with a little s&p! I love to just take my avocado boats and scoop away that creamy goodness then rotate with that beautiful tomato that just came from your neighbor's garden. YUM!
Road trips: seriously gonna have to research some u-hauls!
Renovations: it is OK to be terrified!
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Happy Birthday!
Today is my brother's birthday. He is an excellent big brother and a really fine man. We celebrated him at the little gray house and I became painfully aware that moving on will mean no more moments in the little gray house. So many Christmas gatherings and Easter egg hunts and Fireworks on the fourth of July or New Years or just because we were camping; will be no more. The birthday parties; the First Communions; the graduations. The little gray house has been there to celebrate them all. It has been an epicenter of Bortle/Walsh life celebrations.
I am also reflecting on the beauty that is my family. My brother is a strong, decent human being; the kind you don't find every day and you hope to meet some day. Tina, my sister-in-law, is very bright-like a light, not a librarian; although I am sure she is bright that way too. But when she enters a room, like my kitchen, she lights it up and makes me want to pour her wine. My niece Amanda decided to wear her retro jean shorts from Goodwill and that is what makes her the kind of human being I want to spend every day with. A 20 year old tour de force! Jessica is 14, and will be 15 in a couple of months and will be driving. She wants to be a model and marry the lead from Tokyo Hotel and I want to say she is funny and real and probably will at the very least go to Tokyo. I wonder silently if she has any idea of her gifts. Katie is our resident rock star. The girl can kick some arsenal! Everything she has ever ventured into she has been a success...joined Gymnastics; rocked; joined dance; rocked; joined basketball; rocked. But then she joined a band and now she is just insane - she has so much talent wrapped up on her petite frame she is like a Mary Lou Retton spinoff. Wade, part 4, enters talking; like Joan Rivers or Grandy. But with the smell of perfect little boy. Today he greeted me with "do you want some gum? it is mint. It does have a bad aftertaste if you just had wine." He is 8! And his wine was at Communion today, just for clarification.
Oh and Grandy was here too. She said things like; "Where is the beer"; and "oh, what kind of wine is that?
Louie and Shadow had a good day too - Louie proved he was the perfect dog when fed some hamburger he politely spit it out knowing he is not a people food eating dog; Shadow proved he is still a pup and not a food waster as he gobbled up the hamburger.
All moments that make up a celebration at the little gray house.
I wish my brother a very happy birthday and I thank him for sharing his beautiful family with me, Louie and the little grey house.
Rich girl am I!
Recipes: Hamburgers; turkey burgers; grilled vegys; BLT noodle salad; baked beans; deviled eggs; Birthday Cake!
Road trips: count down at the little gray house.
Renovations: can I just revel in the little gray house for today?
I am also reflecting on the beauty that is my family. My brother is a strong, decent human being; the kind you don't find every day and you hope to meet some day. Tina, my sister-in-law, is very bright-like a light, not a librarian; although I am sure she is bright that way too. But when she enters a room, like my kitchen, she lights it up and makes me want to pour her wine. My niece Amanda decided to wear her retro jean shorts from Goodwill and that is what makes her the kind of human being I want to spend every day with. A 20 year old tour de force! Jessica is 14, and will be 15 in a couple of months and will be driving. She wants to be a model and marry the lead from Tokyo Hotel and I want to say she is funny and real and probably will at the very least go to Tokyo. I wonder silently if she has any idea of her gifts. Katie is our resident rock star. The girl can kick some arsenal! Everything she has ever ventured into she has been a success...joined Gymnastics; rocked; joined dance; rocked; joined basketball; rocked. But then she joined a band and now she is just insane - she has so much talent wrapped up on her petite frame she is like a Mary Lou Retton spinoff. Wade, part 4, enters talking; like Joan Rivers or Grandy. But with the smell of perfect little boy. Today he greeted me with "do you want some gum? it is mint. It does have a bad aftertaste if you just had wine." He is 8! And his wine was at Communion today, just for clarification.
Oh and Grandy was here too. She said things like; "Where is the beer"; and "oh, what kind of wine is that?
Louie and Shadow had a good day too - Louie proved he was the perfect dog when fed some hamburger he politely spit it out knowing he is not a people food eating dog; Shadow proved he is still a pup and not a food waster as he gobbled up the hamburger.
All moments that make up a celebration at the little gray house.
I wish my brother a very happy birthday and I thank him for sharing his beautiful family with me, Louie and the little grey house.
Rich girl am I!
Recipes: Hamburgers; turkey burgers; grilled vegys; BLT noodle salad; baked beans; deviled eggs; Birthday Cake!
Road trips: count down at the little gray house.
Renovations: can I just revel in the little gray house for today?
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Turn on the TV!
Everyone and their brother will be blogging about the series finale of Friday Night Lights. OK, maybe not everyone and their brother because the show is ending because of a lack of followers. Where I am convinced it will go down as the greatest television show never watched; I can only keep the Kleenex handy as I process the fact that Coach Taylor has moved so far away and Vince still has a chance of signing with Georgia, and Tim Riggins is building my dream home but I don't know where it is located. I will reference FNL again in the future I am sure, but in the meantime, I encourage you to check it out now on ESPN Classics.
No, the reason I start with it is because I think about what a powerful play TV has in human companionship.
When I was young, really young, we didn't have much in the way of TV. And where I am 43 now, I am not 83 so there was TV when I was young. I remember helping my brother by holding the extended 'twirls' of tin foil attached to the antenna so he could view his Vikings games.
I did not have a lot of TV in my life as a child. I was an adult before a color TV was owned in my family I think. However, the lore of television programs has been a part of my development. Little House on the Prairie and The Waltons were the only shows I remember being allowed to watch growing up. And because my youth was so isolated, I thought Laura and John Boy were neighbors. Oh, and I do remember when Grandma Bortle came to visit us in North Dakota; she was caught watching her 'serials' (soap operas for those of you in a different era) and my sister and I were hanging out with her relishing in the criminal activity. My sister and I let Grandma introduce us to 'filth'. And we were thrilled!
I love television. It is still, as it was when I was a kid, this amazing companion and memory maker; you can look at a small screen in your living room and not be alone. I have always had a respect and reference for television. I know there are intellects; or too cool for school folks that are like - oh, No, I don't watch television...like we who do are inferior.
Television can be a waste of mind; don't get me wrong. But it also serves a lovely purpose.
I remember when I took care of Grandma Feary. I would come out every night and the first thing I would do was prepare her dinner. So I suppose she deserves some credit in my recent adventure. Then I would pour her a glass of wine or beer...to which she would savor as her previous caretaker apparently was Baptist. But finally, I would put on the TV her favorite, familiar show. One program was JAG. She would just light up when it came on Tuesdays at 8:00.
As well, I remember in the Tiger house hanging out with Daddy watching Braves games. This was important television because this is where he and I talked about boys. He learned so much about me he sent me flowers once on my birthday and signed the card "love, Brett Butler "(Braves outfielder I had a huge crush on) and over the years he sent me (because he often had to work away from home) 'just thinking of you' postcards from my childhood crushes like Scott Baio and Paul Newman (I know, he wasn't thrilled about that one because Paul was a liberal and a little old for me) when he would be in places like Sparta, GA or Walhalla, SC. My Father had such a gift of capacity.
Some bonding shows I had with my Dad when he was in his final tour about this earth where General Hospital and NYPD Blue. I would come over to mow the lawn or clean the house and would end up gossiping about Sonny and Brenda. I never asked him what he thought about David Caruso's swift exit from NYPD Blue so I always wonder about that. I have the memories of family time around a TV program where one or more of us would go off to work on a chore and the "it's back" call would come when the commercials are over.
I currently have the TV I watched those latter shows with Dad on; it actually came to Mom and Dad by way of my sister Tracey and her husband I think. But I inherited it after Dad died. I don't know how to haul it off quite frankly. It has been in my truck four or five times when I have gone to the landfill to dump my trash; but I have not been able to unload this TV.
I now, as a single adult, always have the TV on in my house. Most of the time it is just comfort noise. Up until I needed to get DISH for our tailgate extravaganza I just had rabbit ear TV. And it was fine. On Sunday afternoons I liked to have the football games playing in the background of my day because it was comfort food. I always could get CBS so could always watch March Madness which I am obsessed with. PBS brought me great cooking shows; all the basics were covered.
I think about people with so much less fortune then I enjoy and hope for them they have a TV. They have a companion. Hopefully the rabbit ears bring them enough reception so they don't have to be exposed to the shameful shows that embarrass Television. Just a little bit of 60 Minutes perhaps; some Little House on the Prairie, whatever today's version of that might be; a little local sports and some Chef Ming. Don't count out the British humor that abounds on PBS either. And don't be alone; turn on the TV!
Recipe: the TV dinner; you know you crave them. The Salisbury steak, mashed potatoes and green peas of it all!
Road trip: Dillon, Texas. Yes, I know it is make believe; we all need make believe in our lives.
Renovations: Tim, I need an island in the middle of my kitchen.
No, the reason I start with it is because I think about what a powerful play TV has in human companionship.
When I was young, really young, we didn't have much in the way of TV. And where I am 43 now, I am not 83 so there was TV when I was young. I remember helping my brother by holding the extended 'twirls' of tin foil attached to the antenna so he could view his Vikings games.
I did not have a lot of TV in my life as a child. I was an adult before a color TV was owned in my family I think. However, the lore of television programs has been a part of my development. Little House on the Prairie and The Waltons were the only shows I remember being allowed to watch growing up. And because my youth was so isolated, I thought Laura and John Boy were neighbors. Oh, and I do remember when Grandma Bortle came to visit us in North Dakota; she was caught watching her 'serials' (soap operas for those of you in a different era) and my sister and I were hanging out with her relishing in the criminal activity. My sister and I let Grandma introduce us to 'filth'. And we were thrilled!
I love television. It is still, as it was when I was a kid, this amazing companion and memory maker; you can look at a small screen in your living room and not be alone. I have always had a respect and reference for television. I know there are intellects; or too cool for school folks that are like - oh, No, I don't watch television...like we who do are inferior.
Television can be a waste of mind; don't get me wrong. But it also serves a lovely purpose.
I remember when I took care of Grandma Feary. I would come out every night and the first thing I would do was prepare her dinner. So I suppose she deserves some credit in my recent adventure. Then I would pour her a glass of wine or beer...to which she would savor as her previous caretaker apparently was Baptist. But finally, I would put on the TV her favorite, familiar show. One program was JAG. She would just light up when it came on Tuesdays at 8:00.
As well, I remember in the Tiger house hanging out with Daddy watching Braves games. This was important television because this is where he and I talked about boys. He learned so much about me he sent me flowers once on my birthday and signed the card "love, Brett Butler "(Braves outfielder I had a huge crush on) and over the years he sent me (because he often had to work away from home) 'just thinking of you' postcards from my childhood crushes like Scott Baio and Paul Newman (I know, he wasn't thrilled about that one because Paul was a liberal and a little old for me) when he would be in places like Sparta, GA or Walhalla, SC. My Father had such a gift of capacity.
Some bonding shows I had with my Dad when he was in his final tour about this earth where General Hospital and NYPD Blue. I would come over to mow the lawn or clean the house and would end up gossiping about Sonny and Brenda. I never asked him what he thought about David Caruso's swift exit from NYPD Blue so I always wonder about that. I have the memories of family time around a TV program where one or more of us would go off to work on a chore and the "it's back" call would come when the commercials are over.
I currently have the TV I watched those latter shows with Dad on; it actually came to Mom and Dad by way of my sister Tracey and her husband I think. But I inherited it after Dad died. I don't know how to haul it off quite frankly. It has been in my truck four or five times when I have gone to the landfill to dump my trash; but I have not been able to unload this TV.
I now, as a single adult, always have the TV on in my house. Most of the time it is just comfort noise. Up until I needed to get DISH for our tailgate extravaganza I just had rabbit ear TV. And it was fine. On Sunday afternoons I liked to have the football games playing in the background of my day because it was comfort food. I always could get CBS so could always watch March Madness which I am obsessed with. PBS brought me great cooking shows; all the basics were covered.
I think about people with so much less fortune then I enjoy and hope for them they have a TV. They have a companion. Hopefully the rabbit ears bring them enough reception so they don't have to be exposed to the shameful shows that embarrass Television. Just a little bit of 60 Minutes perhaps; some Little House on the Prairie, whatever today's version of that might be; a little local sports and some Chef Ming. Don't count out the British humor that abounds on PBS either. And don't be alone; turn on the TV!
Recipe: the TV dinner; you know you crave them. The Salisbury steak, mashed potatoes and green peas of it all!
Road trip: Dillon, Texas. Yes, I know it is make believe; we all need make believe in our lives.
Renovations: Tim, I need an island in the middle of my kitchen.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
If These Walls Could Talk
Can I tell you the story about how I happened upon the job I am leaving in 11 (working) days?
I had just moved home from Tennessee with my tail between my legs as my journalism dream job had fallen through. I was living in my brother's spare bedroom and I was blue and bare and lonely and self loathed.What the hell was to become of me. My dog at the time, Ice, was the only one who knew my secrets. And I was always so amazed at how he traveled through all of the upheaval with just the one mission in mind; to bring me comfort.
I went to a local temp agency to find work and the first week I was assigned to Advantage Behavioral Health Systems. They were needing help moving offices and setting up the file room at the new site. I did this, then was assigned to Coke for 1 week to cover for a receptionist who was out on vacation. Then, I was called back to ABHS. The receptionist there was out on sick leave. After a couple months of temping I was offered the Operations Manager position. A new position that had just been created at the agency.
Oh, I am sorry. Advantage Behavioral Health Systems (ABHS) is a publicly-funded provider of behavioral health, developmental disability and addictive disease services for Barrow, Clarke, Elbert, Greene, Jackson, Madison, Morgan, Oconee, Oglethorpe, and Walton counties. A Community Service Board (CSB) is the governing body for Advantage Behavioral Health Systems and is comprised of members from the counties we serve. According to their web-site anyway. What the place really is is a place where some of the finest human kindness is at play everyday.
I had never worked in a Mental Health environment; had never really worked much at all in an office setting. But I found a place for me to offer some of my soft skills; good customer service, passion for the underdog; and they embraced me. So slowly, I didn't feel so blue anymore. Ice and I got a place of our own. And I began to feel like I was of value. Which ironically is what the agency does for their clients.
I think that is why I stayed so long. I had a sense of loyalty to it for being the friend who got down in the hole with me and helped me find the way out. Not to mention, I have worked with some amazing human beings. Putting their hearts in to another human being in exchange for crappy hours, little pay and rare appreciation. Witnessing first hand fellow worker's capacity for generosity of heart is not a bad way to spend 9 years, 7 months.
My hope is that I don't ever loose that desire to give of myself to support another person; whether they are having a hell of a bad day or not.
Recipe: I am learning to make sweet tea. Can you believe it, 30 years in the South and don't know how to make sweet tea...
Road trip: I took a walk around the place where I work today and heard my heart beat.
Renovations: Happiness is served 24 hours a day as well; you just have to be brave enough to except the invitation.
I had just moved home from Tennessee with my tail between my legs as my journalism dream job had fallen through. I was living in my brother's spare bedroom and I was blue and bare and lonely and self loathed.What the hell was to become of me. My dog at the time, Ice, was the only one who knew my secrets. And I was always so amazed at how he traveled through all of the upheaval with just the one mission in mind; to bring me comfort.
I went to a local temp agency to find work and the first week I was assigned to Advantage Behavioral Health Systems. They were needing help moving offices and setting up the file room at the new site. I did this, then was assigned to Coke for 1 week to cover for a receptionist who was out on vacation. Then, I was called back to ABHS. The receptionist there was out on sick leave. After a couple months of temping I was offered the Operations Manager position. A new position that had just been created at the agency.
Oh, I am sorry. Advantage Behavioral Health Systems (ABHS) is a publicly-funded provider of behavioral health, developmental disability and addictive disease services for Barrow, Clarke, Elbert, Greene, Jackson, Madison, Morgan, Oconee, Oglethorpe, and Walton counties. A Community Service Board (CSB) is the governing body for Advantage Behavioral Health Systems and is comprised of members from the counties we serve. According to their web-site anyway. What the place really is is a place where some of the finest human kindness is at play everyday.
I had never worked in a Mental Health environment; had never really worked much at all in an office setting. But I found a place for me to offer some of my soft skills; good customer service, passion for the underdog; and they embraced me. So slowly, I didn't feel so blue anymore. Ice and I got a place of our own. And I began to feel like I was of value. Which ironically is what the agency does for their clients.
I think that is why I stayed so long. I had a sense of loyalty to it for being the friend who got down in the hole with me and helped me find the way out. Not to mention, I have worked with some amazing human beings. Putting their hearts in to another human being in exchange for crappy hours, little pay and rare appreciation. Witnessing first hand fellow worker's capacity for generosity of heart is not a bad way to spend 9 years, 7 months.
My hope is that I don't ever loose that desire to give of myself to support another person; whether they are having a hell of a bad day or not.
Recipe: I am learning to make sweet tea. Can you believe it, 30 years in the South and don't know how to make sweet tea...
Road trip: I took a walk around the place where I work today and heard my heart beat.
Renovations: Happiness is served 24 hours a day as well; you just have to be brave enough to except the invitation.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Survival of the Un-fittest!
Un-fittest. Is that even a word?
Well, I am here, so apparently I can get off my arsenal and ride a bike a few miles and it won't kill me. Not gonna lie though, it wasn't pretty. It took me a good few miles to understand the gears. I kept getting off the bike and looking at it like Dads look at the tricycles and dollhouses they agreed to put together for Christmas morning.
~Wait, is the brake there, or is it on the pedal. Uh, didn't the brake used to be on the pedal. I distinctly remember the brake being on the pedal 'cause you could 'burn rubber' with your stop and looked cool doing it.~
That kind of thing was going on...
Anyway, there were challenges on the way out. But the way back seemed smooth. And I didn't have to be humiliated by the 'get off the bike and push up the hill' moment. There was some pretty poor posture and some inappropriate language being shouted out loud, not to mention the ridiculous faces I am sure I was making. But, low and behold, I lived.
Not everyone survives when they are unfit for a situation. I am acutely aware of this as even though I only have 12 more work days left, it actually looks like I will have to let someone go before I leave because they are unfit.
You know, ironically, I am leaving this job because I am a square and I can't fit into this circle; I am unfit. But trying to help someone else understand that about themselves is a very tough thing to do.
I have never been fired, by the grace of God. But I had this job in Tennessee once where the position was eliminated, because they didn't really need me, and I was offered another position for which I had no skill or desire for. But the truth of it was, even way before they eliminated my position, I knew in my gut that I was not fit for the original position anyway. They were good, kind people, who I think genuinely wanted me to succeed so were trying to find a place for me. But in the end, I was unfit, and I actually got that.
What I don't understand is how someone doesn't know when they are unfit. I just don't get it. I can feel these rolls overlapping my size 10 jeans, so I know I am unfit for running a 5K. I can go to a meeting where they are talking about legislation on mental health causes in the state of Georgia and all I am thinking about is beef bolognese, so I know I am unfit.
There is nothing tougher then having to point out for someone else, to the extent of firing them, that they are unfit. Knowing for them, even though you have told them in every possible way allowable by employment law, it is going to be a complete shock when you say, 'you don't fit and it is time to go'.
But I will do it and I will try to use words of grace and encouragement and I will do my best to let this person leave an unfit situation with the utmost dignity.
And that is all we can do in life. Go about it with a little dignity and, when appropriate, allow others to have their dignity. Life is a journey of fitting in and that is just the unfit deal we are handed!
Recipe: beef bolognese.
Road trips: only commute to a job you fit! otherwise you waste gas...
Renovations: there is no shame in admitting you don't fit. The shame is in never finding out where you do fit!
Well, I am here, so apparently I can get off my arsenal and ride a bike a few miles and it won't kill me. Not gonna lie though, it wasn't pretty. It took me a good few miles to understand the gears. I kept getting off the bike and looking at it like Dads look at the tricycles and dollhouses they agreed to put together for Christmas morning.
~Wait, is the brake there, or is it on the pedal. Uh, didn't the brake used to be on the pedal. I distinctly remember the brake being on the pedal 'cause you could 'burn rubber' with your stop and looked cool doing it.~
That kind of thing was going on...
Anyway, there were challenges on the way out. But the way back seemed smooth. And I didn't have to be humiliated by the 'get off the bike and push up the hill' moment. There was some pretty poor posture and some inappropriate language being shouted out loud, not to mention the ridiculous faces I am sure I was making. But, low and behold, I lived.
Not everyone survives when they are unfit for a situation. I am acutely aware of this as even though I only have 12 more work days left, it actually looks like I will have to let someone go before I leave because they are unfit.
You know, ironically, I am leaving this job because I am a square and I can't fit into this circle; I am unfit. But trying to help someone else understand that about themselves is a very tough thing to do.
I have never been fired, by the grace of God. But I had this job in Tennessee once where the position was eliminated, because they didn't really need me, and I was offered another position for which I had no skill or desire for. But the truth of it was, even way before they eliminated my position, I knew in my gut that I was not fit for the original position anyway. They were good, kind people, who I think genuinely wanted me to succeed so were trying to find a place for me. But in the end, I was unfit, and I actually got that.
What I don't understand is how someone doesn't know when they are unfit. I just don't get it. I can feel these rolls overlapping my size 10 jeans, so I know I am unfit for running a 5K. I can go to a meeting where they are talking about legislation on mental health causes in the state of Georgia and all I am thinking about is beef bolognese, so I know I am unfit.
There is nothing tougher then having to point out for someone else, to the extent of firing them, that they are unfit. Knowing for them, even though you have told them in every possible way allowable by employment law, it is going to be a complete shock when you say, 'you don't fit and it is time to go'.
But I will do it and I will try to use words of grace and encouragement and I will do my best to let this person leave an unfit situation with the utmost dignity.
And that is all we can do in life. Go about it with a little dignity and, when appropriate, allow others to have their dignity. Life is a journey of fitting in and that is just the unfit deal we are handed!
Recipe: beef bolognese.
Road trips: only commute to a job you fit! otherwise you waste gas...
Renovations: there is no shame in admitting you don't fit. The shame is in never finding out where you do fit!
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Oh, What Have I Done!
I posted a blog stating I had a goal to learn to swim. Clearly, this was prior to consulting my mirror. Now, I have to get myself in shape in order to put a bathing suit on in order to learn the freedom of swimming.
Given my obsession with food, I clearly am not about supplying wording for a blog about dieting! But, do need a strategy for getting rid of these rolls about my six pack. I have friends in Zumba, taking 20 mile bike rides, going to Tango, hitting the treadmill. Me, I take the stairs. That is my output.
I used to be a formidable athlete. I played co-ed league basketball with my brother-in-law and didn't cry when my toe nail was ripped off for Christ's sake. I don't really know if that last part has anything to do with being a formidable athlete but I like dropping the story.
There is no surprise the correlation with being unhappy in your life and carrying around rolls that make you uncomfortable. I am not one of those women with a distorted view of my body. I am completely lucid when taking in all 150 lbs of looseness. The cadence my stomach takes in rhythm to my actual walk is not lost on me. But, I fit in my seat and can sometimes still fit in the kid's seat at tailgate. In the end the rolls just represent that unhappiness. And in this new journey there is no place for unnecessary unhappiness. I miss the joy of activity. That joy it brought me to go for a three mile run. Heading to the courts and doing a shoot around with complete strangers. Hiking to the Falls. I don't do any of those things anymore.
So, we start with the bike. I got the WD40 out and greased up all the squeaks I heard in my maiden voyage the other day. Our morning goal is to hop the bike and pedal for 30 minutes in one direction. Then, by the grace of God, pedal in the direction I came for another 30 minutes. I will tell you how this goes.
Recipe: shooter full of vodka, ice, tonic, lime squeeze! What, there is no vodka in getting rid of rolls so I have one last night to enjoy some!
Road trip: Faye Cary Road here we come, first thing in the morning!
Renovations: Unhappiness is open 24 hours, but you don't have to dine there for every meal.
Given my obsession with food, I clearly am not about supplying wording for a blog about dieting! But, do need a strategy for getting rid of these rolls about my six pack. I have friends in Zumba, taking 20 mile bike rides, going to Tango, hitting the treadmill. Me, I take the stairs. That is my output.
I used to be a formidable athlete. I played co-ed league basketball with my brother-in-law and didn't cry when my toe nail was ripped off for Christ's sake. I don't really know if that last part has anything to do with being a formidable athlete but I like dropping the story.
There is no surprise the correlation with being unhappy in your life and carrying around rolls that make you uncomfortable. I am not one of those women with a distorted view of my body. I am completely lucid when taking in all 150 lbs of looseness. The cadence my stomach takes in rhythm to my actual walk is not lost on me. But, I fit in my seat and can sometimes still fit in the kid's seat at tailgate. In the end the rolls just represent that unhappiness. And in this new journey there is no place for unnecessary unhappiness. I miss the joy of activity. That joy it brought me to go for a three mile run. Heading to the courts and doing a shoot around with complete strangers. Hiking to the Falls. I don't do any of those things anymore.
So, we start with the bike. I got the WD40 out and greased up all the squeaks I heard in my maiden voyage the other day. Our morning goal is to hop the bike and pedal for 30 minutes in one direction. Then, by the grace of God, pedal in the direction I came for another 30 minutes. I will tell you how this goes.
Recipe: shooter full of vodka, ice, tonic, lime squeeze! What, there is no vodka in getting rid of rolls so I have one last night to enjoy some!
Road trip: Faye Cary Road here we come, first thing in the morning!
Renovations: Unhappiness is open 24 hours, but you don't have to dine there for every meal.
Monday, July 11, 2011
A Few Basics
They say, write about what you know. Well day three of my blog and it turns out I don't know schnitzel! Squat; Nada!
The decision to turn my life upside-down seems to clearly be the right thing to do. If you have been in one place for 10 years and you have nothing to say, you need to be in a new place. Sure, in my ten years at the state job I have accumulated a slew of factoids ranging from psychotropic medications give you constipation; to 'nuttin’ up' is a clinical term used by Mommas at the end of their rope; and, it is very hard to find resources through Human Resources.
I will not be the person at the party everyone is tuned into due to my varied interests and engrossing perspectives. Quite frankly, I gotta get me some of those!
I can't possibly go forward with simply a fascination for food.
So here are the top three things I am challenging myself to know, by January 1, 2012:
I want to know how to swim and then go swimming in Lake Michigan, Smishek Lake, the Atlantic Ocean and Pacific Ocean. I want to snorkel anywhere and I want to dive into a pool, lake or Ocean. Doesn't have to be a high dive, just that statement that says I am going in and taking these waters with all the joy they give me in return.Where I understand that no one is the life of the party because they talk about their back stroke, I should be able to participate at a higher level of conversation because I actually got in the water and stopped sitting on the shoreline.
Second, I would like to know how to dine in public alone. This will be a key skill that will serve me well in my culinary journey, I believe. But, I do not know how to not say, 'to go please'. Surely that is not respectable in the culinary world. If any one has any tips, please feel free to pass this insight along. Where this skill probably won't make me the life of the party either, it will build the quite confidence layer to what I think makes that engaging party guest.
And lastly, I want to learn how to ride a bike. It is true that most things in life are 'just like riding a bike', especially for people like me who don't ride a bike. I have a bike but haven't ridden in years. I took it out for a spin and felt the awkwardness, the uneasiness and the confusion. If you haven't been on a bike in years you know what I mean, just probably don't want to admit it. It is pretty embarrassing to realize you don't really know how to ride a bike. Not like my niece Victoria. When she puts her 9 year old feet on the handle bars and floats, the same way she does with kid conversations and flower snipping projects, for her, life is like riding a bike. And I want to be just like her on a bike; not like me on a bike.
And then I want to go to the party and perform some Wheelies, Stoppies or Endos! The way Victoria does through her life.
I know, I don't have those lofty goals of understanding all of Viktor Frankl's works, or expounding on the world economic system, or translating Mother Goose into the lessons of life.
I just want to get the basics down.
Recipe: figure out what YOU need to know to make you stronger, better.
Road trip: take the bike out and see if you are awkward or floating!
Renovations: giving Louie a bath!
The decision to turn my life upside-down seems to clearly be the right thing to do. If you have been in one place for 10 years and you have nothing to say, you need to be in a new place. Sure, in my ten years at the state job I have accumulated a slew of factoids ranging from psychotropic medications give you constipation; to 'nuttin’ up' is a clinical term used by Mommas at the end of their rope; and, it is very hard to find resources through Human Resources.
I will not be the person at the party everyone is tuned into due to my varied interests and engrossing perspectives. Quite frankly, I gotta get me some of those!
I can't possibly go forward with simply a fascination for food.
So here are the top three things I am challenging myself to know, by January 1, 2012:
I want to know how to swim and then go swimming in Lake Michigan, Smishek Lake, the Atlantic Ocean and Pacific Ocean. I want to snorkel anywhere and I want to dive into a pool, lake or Ocean. Doesn't have to be a high dive, just that statement that says I am going in and taking these waters with all the joy they give me in return.Where I understand that no one is the life of the party because they talk about their back stroke, I should be able to participate at a higher level of conversation because I actually got in the water and stopped sitting on the shoreline.
Second, I would like to know how to dine in public alone. This will be a key skill that will serve me well in my culinary journey, I believe. But, I do not know how to not say, 'to go please'. Surely that is not respectable in the culinary world. If any one has any tips, please feel free to pass this insight along. Where this skill probably won't make me the life of the party either, it will build the quite confidence layer to what I think makes that engaging party guest.
And lastly, I want to learn how to ride a bike. It is true that most things in life are 'just like riding a bike', especially for people like me who don't ride a bike. I have a bike but haven't ridden in years. I took it out for a spin and felt the awkwardness, the uneasiness and the confusion. If you haven't been on a bike in years you know what I mean, just probably don't want to admit it. It is pretty embarrassing to realize you don't really know how to ride a bike. Not like my niece Victoria. When she puts her 9 year old feet on the handle bars and floats, the same way she does with kid conversations and flower snipping projects, for her, life is like riding a bike. And I want to be just like her on a bike; not like me on a bike.
And then I want to go to the party and perform some Wheelies, Stoppies or Endos! The way Victoria does through her life.
I know, I don't have those lofty goals of understanding all of Viktor Frankl's works, or expounding on the world economic system, or translating Mother Goose into the lessons of life.
I just want to get the basics down.
Recipe: figure out what YOU need to know to make you stronger, better.
Road trip: take the bike out and see if you are awkward or floating!
Renovations: giving Louie a bath!
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Sundays in the Country
This morning I woke up to the cool breeze coming through my bedroom window, like an invitation. I love mornings like this - where your first thought is, to get up. I obliged and poured myself some cold brewed coffee and dark chocolate breve cream and followed the invitation to the front porch.
Country living isn't for everyone, but I don't know why. There is not a sound to be heard if you don't count the chirps the birds make, the whistling leaves or the sound of Mr Johnson's 'shouldn't you be in Church' stare as he drives to his assembly with God. The air is so light I think I could float and the smell in the air is a mix of the rosemary sitting in the pot next to me and slightly dewy dog, Louie, who is thrilled I have decided to join him on the porch this morning. Sure, I can't walk to the corner for a bagel, there is no paper stand, no sirens to make me feel secure, but country living is for me. I can't breathe in concrete; I breathe in rosemary and dewy dog.
I am particularly sensitive to the way I spend my day as I know they will all be changing. It is important to appreciate where I am even if it isn't where I am supposed to be. At the end of the day it is all a part of what makes these lines across my face.
Today, I am going to spend my day tidying up this little house that has brought me such joy for so many years. As I clean the living room I will revel in the sounds of the snoring children who have recharged here on wall to wall air mattresses. When I get to the kitchen I will have to catch myself from laughing out loud at the countless times I have had to yell at people who have had the audacity to help me in MY kitchen. Then, when I get to my laundry room I will hear the screen door slam mixed with infectious laughter from the loved ones who have passed through the little gray house.
And, when Mr. Johnson drives back by I will be able to stare back him the message of 'my time with God was lovely, I hope yours was as well'.
That ladies and gentlemen, will be a well spent Sunday in the Country.
Recipe: Heavenly Pot Roast - a good chuck roast, get a good sear then lovingly place in the crock pot along with a bath of beef broth, red wine and some onion pieces. Come back in 7 hours and scoop out some broth to make a gravy then take the mashed potatoes you made an hour ago, red potatoes with skins on of course, slap them on your plate, pull apart a healthy portion of the roast and place it on the potatoes then top with the killer gravy you just made. Sling some chives for color if you like!
Road trip: walk around the house you call home and listen to the walls.
Renovations: touch up my roots!
The little gray house!
Country living isn't for everyone, but I don't know why. There is not a sound to be heard if you don't count the chirps the birds make, the whistling leaves or the sound of Mr Johnson's 'shouldn't you be in Church' stare as he drives to his assembly with God. The air is so light I think I could float and the smell in the air is a mix of the rosemary sitting in the pot next to me and slightly dewy dog, Louie, who is thrilled I have decided to join him on the porch this morning. Sure, I can't walk to the corner for a bagel, there is no paper stand, no sirens to make me feel secure, but country living is for me. I can't breathe in concrete; I breathe in rosemary and dewy dog.
I am particularly sensitive to the way I spend my day as I know they will all be changing. It is important to appreciate where I am even if it isn't where I am supposed to be. At the end of the day it is all a part of what makes these lines across my face.
Today, I am going to spend my day tidying up this little house that has brought me such joy for so many years. As I clean the living room I will revel in the sounds of the snoring children who have recharged here on wall to wall air mattresses. When I get to the kitchen I will have to catch myself from laughing out loud at the countless times I have had to yell at people who have had the audacity to help me in MY kitchen. Then, when I get to my laundry room I will hear the screen door slam mixed with infectious laughter from the loved ones who have passed through the little gray house.
And, when Mr. Johnson drives back by I will be able to stare back him the message of 'my time with God was lovely, I hope yours was as well'.
That ladies and gentlemen, will be a well spent Sunday in the Country.
Recipe: Heavenly Pot Roast - a good chuck roast, get a good sear then lovingly place in the crock pot along with a bath of beef broth, red wine and some onion pieces. Come back in 7 hours and scoop out some broth to make a gravy then take the mashed potatoes you made an hour ago, red potatoes with skins on of course, slap them on your plate, pull apart a healthy portion of the roast and place it on the potatoes then top with the killer gravy you just made. Sling some chives for color if you like!
Road trip: walk around the house you call home and listen to the walls.
Renovations: touch up my roots!
The little gray house!
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Here we are!
Not entirely sure how this will work but if it does work, Welcome!
Here I am, a complete modern day cliche! 43 years old right now and feverishly looking for something I can cross off on 'the list of accomplishments'. In 11 days I won't be 43 and truth is belly fat and a long list of excuses is all that is showing in the 'done' column.
Don't worry, this blog will not be a poor pitiful me rant. Au contraire! My theory is, you can write down your goals, ambitions, dreams - all you want. But it isn't until you tell another person that you really feel the pressure to achieve. So I am putting it all out there for millions to see, or the four or five of you. Then there can be no turning back. It is inevitable the Catholic guilt will kick in and I will be forced to get off my arsenal and complete at least one thing on my list. I am not sure if this same motivation would work if I were Baptist. So as all good famous athletes and rap stars will tell you, I first give the glory to God! And second, I thank Father Nelson, who put the fear of God in me at a very young age and lastly to Brother Michael, because you called me out in front of all the school for 'borrowing' your Holy card of St Teresa I am sufficiently 'guilt ridden' for eternity. I am confident this will work in my favor.
Yes, the blog is called Recipes, Road trips and Renovations for a reason.
First, I have quit my job - well turned in the notice, 15 more work days remain - (I know, right, in this economy, apparently I think I am bulletproof). I had this great job too. Working for the State, isn't that everyone's goal, the security of a State job? Leaving it behind. Why?
Ever since I was a little girl, I had a fascination with food. What some of the four or five of you may not know is that when I was young my family did not have much. As Daddy would say, "truth is we were never middle class, we were down right poor". I do remember sitting in the single wide making pizza's for Christmas dinner, and being yelled at in Judy and Hollis' double wide because I threw my bowl of buttered rice in the trash 'cause I was just so bored with rice. But I never knew the connection to not having money. Food has always been vocal in my life. The lore of the rutabaga, Thanksgiving stories, the Cream of Cod Fish Stew, sitting around with Daddy making the 'relish' tray, mother's baked macaroni and cheese before I moved South and learned it was actually a side dish. Oh and we can't forget the countless meals of edible weeds and years later realizing Mother was not cooking pigweed after all. And my personal favorite is a toss up between liver covered in tomato sauce and American cheese and Mother swearing that was Veal Parmesan or the lovely breakfast of puffed rice/wheat that would usually still be there, soggy, in the fridge when we returned from school as we did not waste food in our house!
Food is like a favorite sweater laced with memories and moments that fill me. It is just as valuable in the story of me and belongs on the U-haul with all my other possessions and emotions along side the record player and the wooden baby doll cradle Daddy made for me when I was 6.
So I quit my job so I could keep my fascination with food going. I want to attend the Culinary Arts program at Coastal Georgia College. If you are taking notes, that is the first thing on my list you need to call me out on this time next year.
Road trips! Yep, gonna go on a few of those. And, the two or three of you left are welcome to come along. Again, my youth plays a part. I remember so many trips in the truck, or the station wagon, with the windows rolled down, the sibling bickering and the adventure of ending up where you did not begin.
We will take a few of those!
I chose 'Renovations' because truthfully, I was once full of audacity. I had a vigor about myself that could not be denied. Then I got stuck and sad and lazy. So I am looking to restore to life, vigor and activity the self I can be. And I just hope, you, the one person left, will call me out when I am not waking up and going to sleep to my fullest potential.
Here we go!
Recipe of the day: Chicken Bok Choy Soup = chicken broth, 3 cups; 2 tsp soy sauce and 2 tsp sesame oil, 1 tsp red pepper flakes, 1 chopped garlic clove, 3 cups chopped Bok Choy.... starting off healthy, good cleanse ; read two chapters of The School of Essential Ingredients
Road-trip: go to Royston BiLo and get wine, carpet cleaner, lemons and blue cheese...stop at vegy booth and see what is available
Renovation: help the daisy patch see the sun.
Here I am, a complete modern day cliche! 43 years old right now and feverishly looking for something I can cross off on 'the list of accomplishments'. In 11 days I won't be 43 and truth is belly fat and a long list of excuses is all that is showing in the 'done' column.
Don't worry, this blog will not be a poor pitiful me rant. Au contraire! My theory is, you can write down your goals, ambitions, dreams - all you want. But it isn't until you tell another person that you really feel the pressure to achieve. So I am putting it all out there for millions to see, or the four or five of you. Then there can be no turning back. It is inevitable the Catholic guilt will kick in and I will be forced to get off my arsenal and complete at least one thing on my list. I am not sure if this same motivation would work if I were Baptist. So as all good famous athletes and rap stars will tell you, I first give the glory to God! And second, I thank Father Nelson, who put the fear of God in me at a very young age and lastly to Brother Michael, because you called me out in front of all the school for 'borrowing' your Holy card of St Teresa I am sufficiently 'guilt ridden' for eternity. I am confident this will work in my favor.
Yes, the blog is called Recipes, Road trips and Renovations for a reason.
First, I have quit my job - well turned in the notice, 15 more work days remain - (I know, right, in this economy, apparently I think I am bulletproof). I had this great job too. Working for the State, isn't that everyone's goal, the security of a State job? Leaving it behind. Why?
Ever since I was a little girl, I had a fascination with food. What some of the four or five of you may not know is that when I was young my family did not have much. As Daddy would say, "truth is we were never middle class, we were down right poor". I do remember sitting in the single wide making pizza's for Christmas dinner, and being yelled at in Judy and Hollis' double wide because I threw my bowl of buttered rice in the trash 'cause I was just so bored with rice. But I never knew the connection to not having money. Food has always been vocal in my life. The lore of the rutabaga, Thanksgiving stories, the Cream of Cod Fish Stew, sitting around with Daddy making the 'relish' tray, mother's baked macaroni and cheese before I moved South and learned it was actually a side dish. Oh and we can't forget the countless meals of edible weeds and years later realizing Mother was not cooking pigweed after all. And my personal favorite is a toss up between liver covered in tomato sauce and American cheese and Mother swearing that was Veal Parmesan or the lovely breakfast of puffed rice/wheat that would usually still be there, soggy, in the fridge when we returned from school as we did not waste food in our house!
Food is like a favorite sweater laced with memories and moments that fill me. It is just as valuable in the story of me and belongs on the U-haul with all my other possessions and emotions along side the record player and the wooden baby doll cradle Daddy made for me when I was 6.
So I quit my job so I could keep my fascination with food going. I want to attend the Culinary Arts program at Coastal Georgia College. If you are taking notes, that is the first thing on my list you need to call me out on this time next year.
Road trips! Yep, gonna go on a few of those. And, the two or three of you left are welcome to come along. Again, my youth plays a part. I remember so many trips in the truck, or the station wagon, with the windows rolled down, the sibling bickering and the adventure of ending up where you did not begin.
We will take a few of those!
I chose 'Renovations' because truthfully, I was once full of audacity. I had a vigor about myself that could not be denied. Then I got stuck and sad and lazy. So I am looking to restore to life, vigor and activity the self I can be. And I just hope, you, the one person left, will call me out when I am not waking up and going to sleep to my fullest potential.
Here we go!
Recipe of the day: Chicken Bok Choy Soup = chicken broth, 3 cups; 2 tsp soy sauce and 2 tsp sesame oil, 1 tsp red pepper flakes, 1 chopped garlic clove, 3 cups chopped Bok Choy.... starting off healthy, good cleanse ; read two chapters of The School of Essential Ingredients
Road-trip: go to Royston BiLo and get wine, carpet cleaner, lemons and blue cheese...stop at vegy booth and see what is available
Renovation: help the daisy patch see the sun.
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