We also have a flying pig in our foyer:


My husband purchased this one on a family trip just after we sold our business. This little piggy represents freedom. After years of working long hours in our insurance business, he finally felt free from stress, free from having to be somewhere all dressed up at eight (or earlier) in the morning, free from problems with clients or staff.

We only have two flying pigs in our home, but we have no fewer than five variations of bicycle objets d’art (including a bicycling pig). I don’t know what the bicycles stand for yet. My husband is an avid cyclist, but we started picking up the bicycles before he started riding regularly. Perhaps they also represent freedom—the ability to ride away if things get tough? Or maybe they symbolize the excitement of exploring or going on adventures? (Clearly I have too much time on my hands if I’m assigning hidden meaning to articles of household decoration. Maybe they’re just bikes.)

Is it just me, or do you have any objects in your life that are more than just decoration? Objects that speak to your heart and soul for some perhaps unaccountable reason? Maybe it’s a trinket brought back from a family vacation, or an item picked up at a flea market because it called your name.

When I see the pigs, I think of vacations (I bought Penelope while on vacation, also), freedom, playfulness, joy. My heart lifts, even if it’s just for a moment. I think we need these unexpected hits of happiness in our daily lives—little jolts from a special item or a photo of a happy occasion placed where we see it often during the day.

If you have any items that serve as symbols for you, what are they, what do they mean to you and where do you keep them?

Back to school that is. Today is the first day of school in our county, and our son dragged himself out of bed at 6 a.m. It just doesn’t seem right to go to the school bus stop when it’s still dark.

First day with the new backpack

Actually, I have mixed feelings about him going back to school. He’s nice to have around, and this was probably his last summer as a “kid.” Next summer will find him completing community service hours for a state-sponsored scholarship program and/or working at his first job. (Of course, our food bill might be smaller now that he’s back in school. Teenage boys are eating machines!)

Now that he’s back in school, I can look forward to the approach of fall. I frequently set new goals in the fall rather than in January. In Florida, summer is so hot and drags on so long that I’ve lost all ambition and energy by September. If I didn’t have to leave the house, I’d never change out of my pajamas. When we get our first cold front, hopefully sometime in October, I begin to perk up, look around me and decide on new projects and tackle the to-do list that has grown large and unwieldy during the summer. I review any goals I set earlier in the year to see if I’m on track.

It looks beautiful, but it's HOT

So much has changed since last fall: I began writing articles for SheKnows.com and for this blog, I found my new friend Laure, my son grew taller than me. And I met all of you who are kind enough to read the blog and comment on it. You’ve enriched my life by sharing your thoughts with me and each other.

Do you have a favorite time of year? What makes it your favorite? My current favorite is fall, because that’s when I start to feel human again, instead of like a giant, sweaty lump. Hopefully your reasons are a little more poetic than mine…

• Sweet, juicy watermelon
• Crunchy, slightly sour salt & vinegar potato chips
• Creamy, cold ice cream in a crisp waffle cone

Smell…

• Freshly cut grass
• Someone cooking on a charcoal grill
• Fresh basil leaves snipped from my plant
• Salt water and sand at the beach

See…

• Green grass, blue sky, puffy white clouds
• The faces of my son and his friends, flushed and sweaty from playing outdoors
• Words on a page telling me a story or teaching me something
• The four-legged miracle that is my horse, Tank

Hear…

• Frogs singing at night
• The hush before dusk
• My favorite summer feel-good song played loud in the car (currently Wild Cherry’s “Play That Funky Music.” I dare you to sit still while listening.)
• My husband playing the piano

Feel…

• My dog's soft ears
• Silky water on hot skin
• Air conditioning after I’ve been sweating outside
• Cool cotton sheets on my bed

This weekend, take 15 minutes to come to your senses. What did you see? Hear? Feel? What surprised you? What did you enjoy? Was there anything you didn’t like? Come back here and share your discoveries.

Jon's parents pin his bars to his uniform

Jon is the son of my husband’s sister. He was the first grandchild in the family, which grew to include Jon’s sister Jennifer, and a few years later, our son. Our kids became good friends, and despite the age difference, Jon and Jen always include our son in everything when we’re together, for which I am eternally grateful. Our son loves and looks up to both of them, and I’m encouraged that kids can make it through their high school years to begin productive lives!

After the ceremony, in an email to family and friends, my sister-in-law wrote about one of the most touching moments of the day: “Following the ceremony they asked the families of those to be sworn in to stand, followed by those still in active service, followed by those who are veterans. Finally, they asked anyone, regardless of political beliefs, to stand if they recognize the sacrifice and dedication of those men and women who serve in the United States armed forces. Every single person in that arena of thousands stood at that point…. I am proud of Jon and what he has chosen to do and humbled at the same time by the heart of service that every man and woman possesses who serves to protect and defend our country.”

Jon at right

The future by its nature is uncertain, perhaps now more than ever. Jon and Jen give me hope for that future. They’re smart, kind, energetic and full of life. That arena of people standing in support of their family members, regardless of political beliefs, gives me hope that maybe we can put aside our differences and work together to make the world better.

Maybe.

"Happiness is a butterfly, which when pursued, is always just beyond your grasp, but which, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you."

Recently, four of these odd-looking structures appeared in our pool cage. My son first drew our attention to them, when they were still moving about, choosing a place to rest until metamorphosis. They eventually scattered themselves across the back of the screen enclosure, and one made its brave way over to a plastic Adirondack chair in the back corner.


Now I know what happened to my basil plant—at least I think these guys were responsible. I don’t begrudge them their meals, but I’m eager to see what will come out of these cocoons. Does anyone know? The caterpillars were already completely encased in their spiny shells when we found them. So far they have weathered our summer storms and withering heat, and I’m not sure how long it takes for a caterpillar to turn into a butterfly—or could it be a moth?

I’ll keep you posted.

The irony is that the DVD in the photo is about “simple living.” Ha. Nothin’ simple about trying to read, or at least skim, all these books while I simultaneously try to keep up with the Explorations Artful Journaling Class (Hi, Laure…yes, I will soon be turning in my two missing assignments…), get my son ready for the new school year (clothes, backpack, doctor’s appointments), keep writing while searching for new paying markets for freelancing, take care of my horse, and somehow keep my house from falling down around my ears.

Why do I do this to myself? It’s not like I don’t know better. Apparently, I don’t really want a simple life, or I’d have one. Or at least a simpler one. Apparently what I want is piles of books, stacks of papers, art supplies all over the kitchen table and a load of laundry left to languish in the dryer (It’s only sheets—they can wait to be folded.) What happened to Do Less in More Time?

When it comes to the fun stuff, I don’t want to cut back. I don’t want to miss out on anything that might be remotely enjoyable. The only problem is, when I cram my life so full of even the fun stuff, I fail to fully appreciate and enjoy each thing as I experience it.

So I guess I’d better figure out how to restrain myself. I think I’ll start by watching that simple living DVD. Maybe it’ll help.

I just spent an hour sifting through my “junk” email account—the email address I use when ordering online or subscribing to newsletters, etc. I haven’t browsed through there for a week or two, and found some pretty cool stuff. Along with the reminder that my books are due at the library next week, and that I should expect The Ghost Writer in the mail from Netflix on Saturday (and a stray generic Viagra offer), here are seven things I learned from my emails today:

1. “Conscious Donation.” Sponsored by Goodwill Industries, “The Goodwill Donate Movement” encourages people to take as much care when deciding where to donate their belongings as they do when making a financial donation. You can read more about this here and here.

2. At the upcoming (Sept.) Alltech FEI World Equestrian Games in Lexington, 800 horses representing 62 countries are scheduled to participate. (A side note: Unfortunately, I will not be participating, as I was not chosen to be a Purina correspondent… But I’ll be watching on TV!)

3. Cheap Joe’s art supply catalog is offering $1 shipping until Monday, August 9. This is a great deal, because with art supplies, sometimes the shipping can be as expensive as the actual purchase, say a tube of watercolor paint. (Promotion code 1GRB, if you’re interested.)

4. Poetry can make you smile as well as make you think (Poem courtesy American Life in Poetry. Introduction written by Ted Kooser):

in cover-ups. My skin’s tattooed with hours
and days and decades, head to foot, and slim
is just a faded photograph. It’s strange
and be the unseen cover of a book
whose plot, though swift, just keeps on getting thicker.
One reaches for the pleasures of the mind
and heart to counteract the loss of quicker
knowledge. One feels old urgencies unwind,
although I still pluck chin hairs with a tweezer,
in case I might attract another geezer.

(Poem copyright ©2009 by Mary Meriam)

5. “The five things [my] anti-wrinkle products must contain” (antioxidants, skin-identical ingredients, cell-communicating ingredients, sunscreen, and a formula that suits my skin type.), courtesy of Paula Begoun, the “Cosmetics Cop.” Paula is the author of Don’t Go to the Cosmetics Counter Without Me, and I’ve found her cosmetic and skin care recommendations work well for me.

6. The importance of blogging in my true voice, and some suggestions for doing so.

7. Five common “happiness boosters” that do more harm than good, including comforting myself with a “treat.” (Sigh.) Read the full list at The Happiness Project.

What did you learn today—and where/how did you learn it?

Sunflowers make me smile. Some wonderful soul in our subdivision has planted sunflowers at the corner of our main road and one of the side streets. I see them daily as I drive in and out—one of those simple pleasures that add so much to life. They’re happy flowers—their bright yellows, oranges, even reds and bronzes, echoing the colors of the sun itself.

Apparently, I’m not the only one who finds sunflowers uplifting. Vincent van Gogh created a series of sunflower paintings during two different periods, the first (1887) in Paris, and the second (1888-89) in Arles, France where he hoped to create an artistic community. Several of the paintings were meant to be decoration for a room for his friend Paul Gauguin. For van Gogh, yellow symbolized happiness.

Here are a few more sunflower facts:

The sunflower is one of the few crop species that originated in North America. Native Americans domesticated and cultivated it.

Sunflower oil contains 93% of the energy of US Number 2 diesel fuel and researchers are exploring the potential of sunflower as an alternate fuel source in diesel engines.

The sunflower head is not a single flower as you would think from its name, but is made up of 1,000 to 2,000 individual flowers joined at a common receptacle.

Before blooming, the sunflower is heliotropic: It follows the progress of the sun from east to west in order to receive the maximum amount of sunlight. Overnight, the sunflower will turn its face east once more to meet the sunrise. Once it blooms, the stem usually remains in the east-facing position.

It think one of my next illustrated journal projects is going to be a sunflower—what could be more appropriate?

I think about fear quite a bit, possibly because I am afraid of—or at least intimidated by—many things. You name it, I’m afraid of it: pain, death, economic collapse, failure, success, change, no more cranberry orange scones at the grocery store, etc. It wears me out, having to gear myself up to face so many things. Lately I’ve been thinking, wouldn’t it be great if I wasn’t afraid of anything? It sounds wonderful on the surface, but…

Fear can be good.

That’s right. Fear can be good. Here’s why:

Fear makes you more compassionate. If you’re never afraid, you’ll find it hard to impossible to understand and empathize with those of us who are. From lack of understanding and empathy, it’s only a step or two towards contempt or belittling others. If you’ve been afraid and conquered your fears, you can offer kindness and encouragement to others. I’m much more likely to listen to someone who’s felt the way I do and worked through it, than I am to someone who can’t understand why I’d be afraid of that.

I’m certainly not saying we shouldn’t try to overcome our fears. We’d never learn or grow if we always remained safely ensconced in our comfort zones. I am saying that we shouldn’t come down too hard on ourselves or others if and when we’re afraid. Instead, offer kindness to ourselves, and gentleness and understanding to others. Then perhaps we can all walk courageously forward together.

I love to laugh. Who doesn’t? What makes me laugh might not be what makes you laugh, but that’s one of the things that keeps the world interesting. I love older authors like P.G. Wodehouse, James Thurber, and Jean Kerr as well as contemporary writers Dave Barry, Bill Bryson, Celia Rivenbark and David Sedaris to name only a few. There’s a whole world of funny bloggers out there for your quick fix of daily humor, too.

Here are a couple of the things that have made me laugh lately. Hopefully you’ll find these funny, too:

This blog post from Rocks in My Dryer.

Just about any post at all from CrazyAuntPurl.

Bill Bryson’s book I’m a Stranger Here Myself. If Mr. Bryson doesn’t make you laugh at least once, I’m afraid we can no longer be friends.

Brian Regan’s Live CD. Brian is a G-rated stand-up comedian. My family constantly quotes lines from the two CDs (Live and I Walked on the Moon) we play on every road trip. Look him up on YouTube for a taste—one of my favorite routines is “Stupid in School.”

What makes you laugh? Please share it with me—I'm always looking for some new funny.  I'd rather laugh than cry, wouldn't you?

This is what happens when 95 degrees meets inattentive gardener:

Here’s the same plant after a drink of water and a good night’s rest:


This little ornamental pepper is amazingly resilient—I’m sorry to say this is not the first time she’s wilted in the heat. Still, she survives, even after freezing temperatures in the winter and practically dying of thirst in the summer.

If you look closely, you’ll see a few peppers still a bit wizened from their lack of water. Just like the peppers, we often wear the battle scars of what we’ve been through—in our faces, in our eyes, in our hearts. Yet still we come back for more, still we reach upwards toward the light—even though sometimes that light scorches us. For us, a drink of water and a good night’s sleep may be only the beginning of what we need to recover. We may need a box of assorted chocolates, an hour of solitude, a friend’s ear, or even professional help.

If you’re struggling right now, wilting in the sun, reflect on what you really need to get through today, and the day after, and the day after that. Be an attentive gardener—don’t wait until your leaves are drooping and your peppers are shriveled before you give yourself that cool drink of water that makes all the difference. I promise you’ll feel better in the morning.

This is the third year we’ve rented the house with them, and we still remain friends despite hard fought battles of dominoes, Yahtzee, rummy and other card games, and the efforts of my son, C and G the younger to drive each other insane. The wives (P and myself) spend as much time possible reading on the screened porch, and the husbands devote much of their time to keeping the boys from killing themselves and each other. (Who has the more relaxing vacation, do you think?)


We haul up inflatables and fishing gear for the kids to play with in addition to the slide on the lake house dock. I don’t know what he was thinking, but this year, my husband purchased a used jet ski for the boys’ (well-supervised) use. As is the manner of jet skis, this one promptly proved to be a lemon. Four days and $200 later, we towed it to Georgia, where it continued its stubborn habit of breaking down, until the dads rigged it for action with duct tape. It became affectionately known as the Clampett Mobile.



I hope they’ll remember the hours spent with family and friends—sharing meals, playing games, watching movies, swimming, fishing and jet skiing. I hope they remember how hard the dads worked to keep the jet ski running and filled with gas, and the round of golf the teenagers and their dads shared (my son got his first birdie!). I suspect the mishaps will be remembered as well or better than the uneventful hours spent flinging themselves off the dock into the water. For example, one night while we were playing games (adults: cards; teens: Xbox), G looked out the window and noted that the inflatable Cube was gone from the dock. My son and C took that as a combat challenge, had their bathing suits on and tore down to the water before you could say, “Hey, it’s raining,” which it was. They retrieved the errant Cube and returned wet but covered in glory.

We have a new arrival at our barn:

• There is time enough.
• Live joyfully.
• Be Kathy.
• Put on your big girl panties and deal with it.
• Pause before you say no.
• It is what it is.
• Rise to the occasion.
• I am enough.
• Slow down—faster isn’t better.
• Progress, not perfection.
• Help is everywhere.
• What would I do if I wasn’t scared?

…and I began to think about how I was and wasn’t putting “open” into practice, and what I’ve come to see it has been teaching me to do:

Open my eyes. Actually see what’s around me. Notice the details of life. Taking the Artful Journaling class helps, because to draw or paint something, you have to learn to see it.

Open my ears. Hear the frogs in the pond behind our house (it’s hard not to when they really get going). Hear the birds singing. Hear what my husband and son are really saying. Even hear what my own heart and intuition have to say.

Open my mind. My default answer is no. I can tell you all the reasons why whatever you’re suggesting isn’t a good idea, or can’t be done, or why I don’t want to do it. “Open” makes me bite my tongue. I may be thinking no, but maybe if I don’t say it right away some new thought or idea will sneak in. If it takes up residence, well, maybe my mind will open up just a little more.

Open my heart. When I pay attention—see and hear—I am touched by others. I can give the kind word, the money, the time or the good thoughts. If I’m not open, I don’t even know those things are needed.

I’ve begun to see that even when I’m not thinking about it, “open” is working on me subconsciously. I recognize how tightly wound I’ve been, how rigid and closed my ideas of what I should do with my time, how I should run my household, how things “should be.” I think I’m afraid that if I let even an inch of control slip from my hands, my carefully constructed life will fall apart—I’ll fall apart.

“Open” is about much more than trying new things. It’s a philosophy of life. I have quite a ways to go before it’s my philosophy, but at least I’ve opened the door a crack.

If you’ve chosen a word of the year, how is it going for you? What have you learned? What has surprised you?

I’ve wanted to learn how to do illustrated journaling for several years, after seeing an acquaintance’s gorgeous journal while on a trip to Greece. I’ve drooled over books about creating illustrated journals by Hannah Hinchman and Clare Walker Leslie and started sketching off and on. Since I love the look of watercolor, I wanted to incorporate it into my journal, but the first time I tried it (with the help of a library book), I realized I needed a real class with a teacher I could ask questions of. Laure’s current class is the best so far for what I actually want to do: add sketching and painting to my journal when I travel, as well as work on a nature journal here at home. Each lesson helps us build what Laure calls a “visual vocabulary,” techniques and skills for creating different effects, page design and so on. Assignments have included making a color chart (surprisingly soothing and fun), creating a set of borders, using a “placement map,” and making word art (one of the assignments I haven’t done yet).

Here are three of my pages (the color isn't quite right because I have to take a photo of the art instead of scanning it):


Summer’s more relaxed schedule is a good time for exploring new hobbies and experiences. For me, illustrated journaling is both a simple pleasure and an everyday adventure. It’s fun—and it stretches me just a little outside my comfort zone while helping me move towards one of my goals.

What about you? What kind of simple pleasures and everyday adventures are you taking part in this summer? Do share!