Everyday adventures

Homes Sweet Homes

October 20, 2014

Lucky me.

I can call more than one place home. There is, of course, my home here in Florida, where I’ve lived for more than 20 years, raised my son, put down roots. And there is California, the home of my birth and growing-up years, where my parents still live, and, I confess, where a piece of my heart remains. I just returned from a 10-day trip to California, and while I loved my time there, I was so very happy to come…home.

Always have to stop here for coffee!
When I arrive in CA, I always want to do everything at once—hug everyone, pet the cats (we all have cats), hear what’s been going on, go shopping, play games, and eat all the special foods they always have for me. I told everyone that I mainly wanted to just hang out and relax; they weren’t to worry about “entertaining” me. I run around enough at home. So that’s mainly what we did—I was able to sleep eight and nine hours a night without an elderly dog waking me up, I had time to read, and I even did a couple of watercolor sketches! We did go on a few planned outings—to Turtle Bay and the Sundial Bridge (look for a Field Trip Friday soon), and my favorite used bookstore with my mom; lunch out and a shopping trip with my stepmom. And since my Rays were not in the playoffs, I rooted for my stepmom’s favorite team, the San Francisco Giants, in their playoff games against Saint Louis. (They won and will be meeting the Kansas City Royals in the World Series starting tomorrow.)

One of my favorite places--the old cow barn at my mom's

Sketches

My dad making my favorite salad.
When I come back to Florida, I want to sleep in my own bed, drink my morning coffee made just so, wear the clothes I didn’t take on the trip…you get the idea. Now that I’m home home, I’m appreciating my life more: my work, my leisure, my little routines and treats. Whether it was because of the rest I got while in CA, or the fallish (for FL) weather, I feel reenergized and more awake. Ready to tackle daily life again. Grateful for the people, pets and places—the simple pleasures and everyday adventures—that feel like home.

My mom's newest addition

Misty, my dad and stepmom's cat
Like I said, lucky me.

Has anything reenergized you lately?

California

Living It Up in California

October 10, 2014


I’m living it up in California visiting my family—no housework, no cooking, no laundry…except for helping out, of course. And no writing, except for journaling. Time to catch up with the parents, refill the well, and take some much-needed time off. I’ll be back to the blog soon, and in the meantime I hope you have a very happy week!

Jennifer Maier

Rummage Sale

October 08, 2014


Introduction by Ted Kooser: I’d guess everybody reading this has felt the guilt of getting rid of belongings that meant more to somebody else than they did to you. Here’s a poem by Jennifer Maier, who lives in Seattle. Don’t call her up. All her stuff is gone.

Rummage Sale 

Forgive me, Aunt Phyllis, for rejecting the cut
glass dishes—the odd set you gathered piece
by piece from thirteen boxes of Lux laundry soap.

Pardon me, eggbeater, for preferring the whisk;
and you, small ship in a bottle, for the diminutive
size of your ocean. Please don’t tell my mother,

hideous lamp, that the light you provided
was never enough. Domestic deities, do not be angry
that my counters are not white with flour;

no one is sorrier than I, iron skillet, for the heavy
longing for lightness directing my mortal hand.
And my apologies, to you, above all,

forsaken dresses, that sway from a rod between
ladders behind me, clicking your plastic tongues
at the girl you once made beautiful,

and the woman, with a hard heart and
softening body, who stands in the driveway
making change.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2013 by Jennifer Maier from her most recent book of poems, Now, Now, University of Pittsburgh Press, 2013. Poem reprinted by permission of Jennifer Maier and the publisher. Introduction copyright © 2014 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction's author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006.

All Quiet on the Western Front

Reading Outside My Comfort Zone: All Quiet on the Western Front

October 06, 2014


I usually avoid books on war (and other harrowing topics), but I needed a classic about war to finish my Back to the Classics challenge. I happened to have All Quiet on the Western Front on my TBR shelf, and since on its cover there was a banner proclaiming, “The greatest war novel of all time,” I thought I’d give it a try. And I’m so glad I did. This novel, by Erich Maria Remarque, was beautifully and sensitively written in a way that helped me understand the emotional experience of soldiers at war without overwhelming my emotions. Originally written in German, my copy was translated by A.W. Wheen and I found the writing simple and easy to read.  Some of the most affecting passages for me included the following:

Describing a dying friend: “Under the skin the life no longer pulses, it has already pressed out the boundaries of the body. Death is working from within. It already has command in the eyes. Here lies our comrade. Kemmerich, who a little while ago was roasting horse flesh with us and squatting in the shell-holes. He it is still and yet it is not he any longer. His features have become uncertain and faint, like a photographic plate from which two pictures have been taken. Even his voice sounds like ashes.”

After guarding Russian prisoners of war: “A word of command has made these silent figures our enemies; a word of command might transform them into our friends. At some table a document is signed by some persons whom none of us knows, and then for years together that very crime on which formerly the world’s condemnation and severest penalty fall, becomes our highest aim. But who can draw such a distinction when he looks at these quiet men with their childlike faces and apostles’ beards. Any non-commissioned officer is more of an enemy to a recruit, any schoolmaster to a pupil, than they are to us. And yet we would shoot at them again and they at us if they were free.”

Reflecting on the future: “I am young, I am twenty years old; yet I know nothing of life but despair, death, fear, and fatuous superficiality cast over an abyss of sorrow. I see how peoples are set against one another, and in silence, unknowingly, foolishly, obediently, innocently slay one another. I see that the keenest brains of the world invent weapons and words to make it yet more refined and enduring. And all men of my age, here and over there, throughout the whole world see these things; all my generation is experiencing these things with me…. Through the years our business has been killing;—it was our first calling in life. Our knowledge of life is limited to death. What will happen afterwards? And what shall come out of us?”

Remarque, who was born in 1898, knew whereof he wrote. He was conscripted into the German army at age 18, and eventually wounded several times. After his discharge, he worked as a teacher, stonecutter and test car driver for a tire company, among other things. All Quiet on the Western Front was first published as Im Westen Nichts Neues in German in 1929, and sold more than a million copies the first year. The English translation, published the same year, was just as successful. The book was subsequently translated into 12 languages and made into a movie in 1930. Unsurprisingly, Remarque’s books were banned in Germany in the 1930s, and publicly burned in 1933.

Remarque wrote nine more novels, though none was as successful as All Quiet. He led quite a colorful life, and died in Switzerland in 1970 from an aneurysm.

All Quiet on the Western Front gives us a peek inside the minds of those who actually fight. Warfare may have changed a lot since 1918, but I imagine those fighting still go through most of the emotions and experiences found in this novel. All Quiet was more than worth the read. I felt sensitized and educated rather than depressed, and would definitely recommend it.

What book(s) have you read that are outside your comfort zone?

Contentment

Three Forms of Happiness--and How to Boost Them

October 03, 2014

When we talk about “happiness” we’re really talking about several different things. I’ve chosen to categorize them like this: momentary pleasure, overall happiness and long-term contentment. Ideally, a truly happy life balances all three. Let’s look at these forms and at how we can boost each one.


Momentary pleasure. Momentary pleasure includes all our feel-good moments and jolts of fleeting pleasure. We feel it when we eat a brownie or have a massage, receive a compliment or buy a new shirt. Fleeting pleasures are nice while they last, and we can—and should—easily add them to our daily lives. We should be on the lookout for opportunities to do something nice for ourselves—whether that means taking a break to read a novel, buying some fresh flowers or savoring a delicious meal. We might even make a list of momentary pleasures to indulge in when the time is right.

Nice as it is, however, momentary pleasure is just the tip of the happiness iceberg, so to speak. Chasing momentary pleasure without regard to deeper forms of happiness can backfire, ultimately leaving us unhappy. Which brings us to…


Overall happiness. Overall happiness is a general good feeling about life. Baseline happiness, if you will. Generally, things are going right for you and you appreciate what’s going on in your life. This form of happiness is a little more work than momentary pleasure—you might do things such as work out, eat right, pay your bills on time or help out a neighbor in need—things that contribute to overall happiness but might not always offer momentary pleasure. (For example, I’d much rather eat a brownie than broccoli, but I know my health will suffer if I don’t eat right, and that definitely makes me unhappy). Gretchen Rubin’s excellent books The Happiness Project and Happier at Home both examine ways we can boost our overall happiness. And finally, we come to…


Long-term contentment. Contentment comes from deep within, running like an underground river, even when our outward circumstances seem unhappy. I believe it comes from alignment of purpose, knowing we’re primarily acting according to our deepest values. We can look within and know we’re doing what we believe to be right. We believe our lives are full of more good than bad, and we’re grateful. Boosting this form of happiness requires some introspection, examination of what we really believe, and deciding whether we feel we’re living those beliefs. Meditation and other spiritual practices can guide us to long-term contentment. One practice I’m working on incorporating is the “three good things” exercise: every day before bed record three good things from that day. It’s so easy for me to dwell on the negative; this practice helps me refocus on the positive.

Pursuing—and catching—happiness seems to involve a balance between nourishing the body and the soul, taking pleasure and giving it. How do you boost your happiness?

Elizabeth George Speare

Anything Might Be Possible

October 01, 2014


“After the keen still days of September, the October sun filled the world with mellow warmth...The maple tree in front of the doorstep burned like a gigantic red torch. The oaks along the roadway glowed yellow and bronze. The fields stretched like a carpet of jewels, emerald and topaz and garnet. Everywhere she walked the color shouted and sang around her...In October any wonderful unexpected thing might be possible.”
—Elizabeth George Speare, The Witch of Blackbird Pond

Acceptance

Being Enough

September 29, 2014


Have you ever felt that somehow, you just weren’t quite enough?

Lately I’ve been pondering the concept of worth and of being enough, because I’ve been feeling inadequate. No matter what I do, it never feels like enough. And if I’m not doing enough, then I feel I don’t “deserve” good things. It’s not a happy way to live. I feel like I’m required to give and produce constantly before I can receive—be worthy of—love and respect.

I know part of this feeling is tied to money. I’m not earning right now, though not for a lack of trying. I have several essays out in the world awaiting judgment, and I’ve applied for several jobs in the past six months and have been met with silence. When you hit enough walls, you begin to doubt your worth.

In my head I know that my worth is not contingent upon what I earn. I contribute to my family and the world by giving love, support, encouragement, and even physical labor. In my head, I know that I have worth just because I’m alive. But…

I still struggle.

Here are some things that help me, and might help you if you suffer from the occasional feeling that you’re not enough:

Examine the concept of “enough.” Who determines what is enough? Is it the same or different for each person? Does doing “enough” equal being “enough”? Quantifying “enough” is treading dangerously close to the slippery slope of perfectionism and all the craziness thereof.

Do less, counterproductive as that may seem. It’s possible to set too ambitious goals for the amount of time I have. The constant failure to do everything on the to-do list, even if it’s unreasonable to expect to finish, makes me feel inadequate. I’ve taken to putting time estimates next to my to-dos so I can see if I’m packing the day with 15 hours of work. I’m now making a core to-do list with the most important things on it, and I’m limiting them to just a few each day. I’m going to give myself credit and a reward when I complete them. If I want to do more, that’s fine, but I can quit and consider my day productive if I’ve done my core to-dos.

Stop comparing myself with others. I am who I am, I do what I do. I believe what  teacher Jim Tolles wrote in his post, “Feeling Like You’re Not Enough”: “You are. I won't even say you are enough because that kind of statement presumes that in someway you could ever be ‘not enough.’ This is an absurdity. You are as you are. That is perfect in the sense that you don't have to validate your existence or your ability to be, receive, or give love.”

Be honest with myself. It’s true: sometimes (though not always) feeling not good enough is an indicator that I need to do something different, learn more, try harder. If my work doesn’t get accepted, it may be because it isn’t quite good enough, humbling though that is. I know I’m not the writer that I want to be yet, and I must keep learning, experimenting, writing, in order to improve.

Treat myself the way I would treat another. I wouldn’t criticize or put down a friend who was feeling inadequate. I’d offer support and encouragement. I need to be kind and gentle with myself because I know I’m doing the best that I can.

We in the U.S. live in a culture of more, better, faster, higher. A culture based on doing and tangible achievement rather than the more amorphous concept of being. I want to value myself just for being myself, no strings attached, no expectations to meet. And that just might be enough.

Fog

The Sun Lifts This Veil

September 24, 2014

Photo courtesy Tim Mossholder

Introduction by Ted Kooser: I’m fond of poems about weather, and I especially like this poem by Todd Davis for the way it looks at how fog affects whatever is within and beneath it.

Veil

In this low place between mountains
fog settles with the dark of evening.
Every year it takes some of those
we love—a car full of teenagers
on the way home from a dance, or
a father on his way to the paper mill,
nightshift the only opening.
Each morning, up on the ridge,
the sun lifts this veil, sees what night
has accomplished. The water on our window-
screens disappears slowly, gradually,
like grief. The heat of the day carries water
from the river back up into the sky,
and where the fog is heaviest and stays
longest, you’ll see the lines it leaves
on trees, the flowers that grow
the fullest.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2007 by Todd Davis from his most recent book of poems, “The Least of These,” Michigan State University Press, 2010. Reprinted by permission of Todd Davis and the publisher. Poem first appeared in “Albatross,” No. 18, 2007. Introduction copyright © 2010 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction’s author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006.

Everyday adventures

Planting Hope

September 22, 2014

Is there anything more optimistic and hopeful than planting a garden? 

This weekend, my husband and I prepared our largest garden bed for fall planting. We had to dig out the old soil, pull up the tree roots creeping into the bed, put down cardboard to slow their return, and refill the bed with a mixture of the old soil and a good helping of fresh soil from our compost heap. It was hot, drippy work, but we were left with a beautiful, ready-to-be-planted bed.

Before/during

After and ready for planting
We’re also growing our garden from seeds—another hopeful and optimistic endeavor. Can you imagine sweet sugar snap peas coming from these:

Or carrots from these:


That’s what we’re hoping for, along with a few other Florida cold season crops.

There are many garden-to-life metaphors/parallels/life lessons, such as: in gardening as in life you have to get your hands dirty if you want things to grow, or gardening and life both have “seasons,” and so on. One of my favorite lessons, however, is that beautiful things can come from unprepossessing beginnings. Tiny, dead-looking seeds produce luscious tomatoes, beautiful blooms, crunchy carrots, and aromatic herbs. This makes me feel hopeful that when I feel parched and withered, with the right care and nurturing I can produce something beautiful and delicious, too. Even though each seed contains new life, it will not sprout unless its growing conditions are met. The spark of creativity and life within me must be nurtured as well. All I need to do is look around me for the nurturing I need to grow and bloom. And, sometimes the hardest part, allow myself that nurturing, whether it is a delicious meal, an afternoon nap, a coffee date with a friend, or half an hour spent daydreaming and listening to music.

I’ve been feeling tired, parched, and withered lately. While I have been allowing myself time for dormancy, for just chillin’, I’m ready to leave this stage and move on to the next. My favorite season—fall—is coming and with it, the cooler, drier air that always gives me an energy lift. I want to feel that spark of creative energy wake up inside me, and I want to grow and bloom the way our garden will (I hope). While I’m waiting, I’m going to pay careful attention to my growing conditions.

In what ways can you make conditions right for your own blossoming?

Internet

Feeling the (Link) Love

September 19, 2014

“When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be.” Lao-Tzu

Between rain and humidity this week, I’ve spent most of my waking hours inside. (And all of my sleeping hours, come to think of it.) I haven’t spent all my time online, but perhaps a bit more than usual. I plan to make up for that IF we ever have a fall. In the meantime, perhaps you’d like to explore this collection of links I found interesting, inspiring or just plain fun.

Don’t fall into the comparison trap.

Spoken.ly is a website that allows you to make your own illustrated inspirational quotes for social media. I made the image that illustrates this blog post there, and I can’t wait to play around with it some more.

Have you heard of StoryCorps?  It’s mission is “to provide people of all backgrounds and beliefs with the opportunity to record, share and preserve the stories of our lives.” It’s a national independent nonprofit organization that has collected and archived more than 50,000 interview with more than 90,000 participants. Stories are recorded on a CD and preserved at the American Folklife Center at the Library of Congress, and can be heard on your local NPR radio station, or on their own Listen pages.  StoryCorps has also compiled several books from the stories.

Wise words about mistakes from my friend Laure Ferlita.

Check out these 50 simple ways to celebrate life. My favorites: number nine, number 13, number 22 and number 50!

I love manatees, and this site combines their cuteness with encouragement. Manatees for everyone!

This isn’t new, but it made me smile. Practice your insanity!

Happy Friday!

Blossoming

In Each Stage of Our Unfolding

September 17, 2014



“We do ourselves a great disservice by judging where we are in comparison to some final destination. This is one of the pains of aspiring to become something: the stage of development we are in is always seen against the imagined landscape of what we are striving for. So where we are—though closer all the time—is never quite enough.

“The simple rose, at each moment of its slow blossoming, is as open as it can be. The same is true of our lives. In each stage of our unfolding, we are as stretched as possible. For the human heart is quite slow to blossom, and is only seen as lacking when compared to the imagined lover or father or mother we’d like to become.

“It helps to see ourselves as flowers. If a flower were to push itself to open faster, which it can’t, it would tear. Yet we humans can and often do push ourselves. Often we tear in places no one can see. When we push ourselves to unfold faster or more deeply than is natural, we thwart ourselves. For nature takes time, and most of our problems of will stem from impatience.” 
—Mark Nepo, The Book of Awakening

Accomplishment

Chillin' Time

September 15, 2014

More often than not, when I go to the barn to see Tank these days I just take him to graze while I read a magazine or simply watch him with nothing particular in my mind. Even our riding has become languid in the sweatbox that is Florida in September. I feel slightly guilty about this—after all, shouldn’t we always be trying to do better, learn more, grow, progress?

Well, no.


There’s a time for pushing and learning and stepping outside comfort zones, and there’s also a time for chilling out, for hanging together with no agenda. For me, that time is late summer. I’m exhausted from nearly four months of unrelenting heat and humidity and all I really want to do is rest. And not sweat.

Surely Tank must appreciate a break as well. I make sure he maintains a certain level of respect and manners, but he’s a good guy and a mature horse. He does that almost automatically. I think he enjoys his work overall, but even when you enjoy it, isn’t it nice to have a break?

So, yes, this is our fallow time. The time we spend doing nothing, or perhaps having a water bath from the hose. The time for me to listen to the cicadas, watch the dragonflies, smell hot horse. The time for him to search for the most succulent grassy patches. No, I won’t feel guilty about this after all. There will be plenty of time for games and longeing, for practicing our jumping or lead changes, when it’s cooler and we both have more energy. For now, we’ll roam the property looking for shady spots to graze, walk up and down the dirt road looking at the cows, slurp down carrots and bananas, and chill (as much as we can when it’s 95 degrees).

Why do we always feel like we have to accomplish something? Tick off a box or cross out an item on a to-do list? Do you allow yourself to have some “chillin’ time”? What do you do—or stop doing?

Tank's favorite way to chill

Doctor Who

Five Happy Things

September 12, 2014

It’s only been a couple of weeks since my last Happy Little Things post, so instead of posting about one thing at length, today I’m going to share five mostly little things that are giving me hits of happiness right now. After all, life is so much better when we stop and enjoy the simple pleasures. 

1. Fresh flowers. I love fresh flowers but don’t often spend the money for them. This week, though, for three dollars and change I brought home these gorgeous hydrangeas:


They should last at least a week, if I can keep Prudy out of them!

2. Doctor Who. I know, I know, Doctor Who has been around a lo-o-o-ng time, but it’s only been this summer that my husband and I have made his acquaintance when we started watching the reboot of the series that started with the Ninth Doctor. We’re about to move on to the Eleventh Doctor (oh, how I will miss you, David Tennant). We’ve been borrowing DVDs from the library and have quite a few seasons to go before we catch up to the current season. Which is a good thing, because we don’t get BBC America and we won’t be able to watch the current Doctor until he comes out on DVD. (If you want to know why there are so many Doctors, you’ll just have to watch the show. It’s “timey-wimey, wibbly-wobbly stuff”…

3. Pumpkin Spice Lattes at Starbucks. I used the last of a gift card to buy one this morning. Yummy.

4. Freegal Music. This awesome service, accessed through my library system, lets me download three free songs every week. I’ve significantly expanded my music library, three songs at a time. You library may also offer this, so check it out at Freegal.com.

5. Airplane reservations for California! In less than a month, I’ll be visiting my family—I can’t wait. (Better start choosing books to take with me, right Danielle?) 

What happy things are you enjoying right now?

Peter Cooley

A Writer's Hope

September 10, 2014

Desk of writer Frances Parkinson Keyes
Introduction by Ted Kooser: If writers are both skilled and lucky, they may write something that will carry their words into the future, past the hour of their own deaths. I’d guess all writers hope for this, and the following poem by Peter Cooley, who lives in New Orleans and teaches creative writing at Tulane, beautifully expresses his hope, and theirs.

The One Certain Thing

A day will come I’ll watch you reading this.
I’ll look up from these words I’m writing now—
this line I’m standing on, I’ll be right here,
alive again. I’ll breathe on you this breath.
Touch this word now, that one. Warm, isn’t it?

You are the person come to clean my room;
you are whichever of my three children
opens the drawer here where this poem will go
in a few minutes when I’ve had my say.

These are the words from immortality.
No one stands between us now except Death:
I enter it entirely writing this.
I have to tell you I am not alone.
Watching you read, Eternity’s with me.
We like to watch you read. Read us again.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2009 by Peter Cooley, whose most recent book of poems is “Divine Margins,” Carnegie Mellon University Press, 2009. Poem reprinted from “Pleiades,” Vol. 29, no. 2, 2009, by permission of Peter Cooley and the publisher. Introduction copyright © 2010 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction’s author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006.

Books

What I Read This Summer

September 08, 2014

Here in Florida, summer—at least the weather part of it—won’t be over for another couple of months. However, since kids are back in school and fall decorations fill the stores, I’m going to pretend summer is over and do a summer reading round up. Maybe that will help fall get here sooner?

I broke with my usual summer reading traditions (no Wilkie Collins this summer—I missed him—and no writer’s biography). Instead, I’ve been steadily reading from my own shelves as well as consolidating my massive TBR (“to be read” for the uninitiated) list. As I have time, I’ve been looking up each book on my current list and deciding whether or not I still want to read it. If I do, I’m creating a brand new TBR list.  As I do this, I’m choosing a book here and there from the list to check out of the library. Nerdy as it sounds, it’s been a lot of fun!


Here are just a few highlights of my summer’s reading:

From my own shelves:

The appropriately-titled So Many Books, So Little Time, by Sara Nelson. Nelson’s chronicle of a year’s worth of reading a book a week woven into the events of her private life. I loved this and have added it to my shelf of “books about books.”

Old Filth, Jane Gardam. New-to-me author, and so good! I read about this on Danielle Simpson’s blog, and had picked up this copy at my library’s bookstore for a dollar. I will be reading more of Gardam’s work.

Cleopatra, by Stacy Schiff, was another library bookstore purchase. This fascinating biography had me from the first page: “Among the most famous women to have lived, Cleopatra VII ruled Egypt for twenty-two years. She lost a kingdom once, regained it, nearly lost it again, amassed an empire, lost it all. A goddess as a child, a queen at eighteen, a celebrity soon thereafter, she was an object of speculation and veneration, gossip and legend, even in her own time.”

From my enormous TBR list:

The Awakening of Miss Prim, Natalia Sanmartin Fenollera. I was disappointed in this book. It sounded like the perfect read for me, but I was left with an overall feeling of “meh.” Still, it did have this lovely passage: “Miss Prim sipped her tea and nestled down into the storeroom armchair. She too believed in the value of the little things. Her first coffee in the morning drunk from her Limoges porcelain cup. Sunlight filtering through the shutters of her room, casting shadows on the floor. Dozing off over a book on a summer’s afternoon. The look in the children’s eyes when they told you about some fact they’d just learned. It was from the little things that the big ones were made, it definitely was.”

The Little Stranger, by Sarah Waters. Just the right amount of spooky, and a story I keep thinking about.

And I just finished Still Life With Bread Crumbs, by Anna Quindlen, which I loved. From page 223: “One day she had been out walking and she had wondered whether she’d become a different person in the last year, maybe because of what Paige Whittington had said about the dog pictures. Then when she really thought about it she realized she’d been becoming different people for as long as she could remember but had never really noticed, or had put it down to moods, or marriage, or motherhood. The problem was that she’d thought that at a certain point she would be a finished product. Now she wasn’t sure what that might be, especially when she considered how sure she had been about it at various times in the past, and how wrong she’d been.”

And while I didn’t read a writer’s biography, I did read Agatha Christie at Home—and now I want to visit Greenway, her home in Devon!

There were also comfort rereads: Agatha Christie’s The ABC Murders and Death in the Air (also known as Death in the Clouds), and This Rough Magic by Mary Stewart. (I forgot all about The Crystal Cave…still need to check that out at the library.)

As far as reading challenges go, aside from the Mount TBR challenge, I’ve been slacking. Time to get back to the classics and the Vintage Mystery Challenge.

What were your favorite reads this summer?

Bruises

That'll Leave a Mark

September 05, 2014

Recently I had blood drawn for a physical. My veins were especially uncooperative that day, and for a while I sported a pair of bruises on my forearms from the experience. They weren’t painful, but they were noticeable (sadly, I wasn’t able to think up a more dashing story to go with them). This got me thinking about bruises in general, and scars, too.

We can’t get far without collecting our share of bruises and scars. Life, it seems, has a way of marking us, reminding us of both our fragility and our resilience. We’re so fragile that a bump can break blood vessels under the skin and cause blood to pool in the tissues, and we can easily be cut or scraped, sometimes resulting in a scar.

But we’re also resilient. Bruises fade and heal, and scars, in fact, are proof of healing, at least according to Wikipedia: “Any injury does not become a scar until the wound has completely healed.”

Bruises and scars are badges of honor. We don’t get banged up by staying safe at home in our comfort zones. If we’ve gotten a bruise or scar, we were probably out doing something, learning something, experiencing everyday adventures. 

I've had a few bruises from Tank
Sometimes bruises and scars don’t show up in our outer appearance. Sometimes the injury occurs internally, but leaves a mark nevertheless. Those emotional wounds can be more painful than physical ones, but they eventually heal, too, little by little becoming less painful. If we can remember that healing is a process and an inevitable one at that, we’ll be able to handle the initial pain better. We’ve all heard Ernest Hemingway’s words from A Farewell to Arms: “The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places.”

We all have bruises and scars, marks from experience won or lessons learned. We all have stories written on our bodies. What stories can yours tell?

Happiness

A Happy Truth

September 03, 2014


“The truth is, you can skip the pursuit of happiness altogether
and just be happy.”
—Joshua Fields Millburn

Jonathan Greene

One Light to Another

August 27, 2014

Photo courtesy Vyolett
Introduction by Ted Kooser: Jonathan Greene, who lives in Kentucky, is a master of the short poem, but while he prunes them down to their essentials he never cuts out the wonder and delight. Here’s a good example from his most recent book. Can you feel the exclamation point that’s suggested at the end? You can’t see it, but it’s there.

One Light to Another

The storm
turns off
the lights.

The lightning
lights the whereabouts
of the flashlight.

The flashlight
takes us to matches
and candles, the oil lamp.

Now we’re back,
revisiting
the 19th century.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2013 by Jonathan Greene, from his most recent book of poems, Seeking Light: New & Selected Later Poems, Broadstone Books, 2013. Poem reprinted by permission of Jonathan Greene and the publisher. Introduction copyright 2014 by The Poetry Foundation. The  introduction’s author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006.

Randomness

Summer Rerun--Routine or Rut-ine?

August 25, 2014

Note: I'm taking a more relaxed approach to blogging this summer, so occasionally I'm going to rerun a previous post. I hope you enjoy this one, from 2010.



I was standing in the shower, puddle of body wash in one hand, nylon pouf in the other when I remembered that I hadn’t yet put the John Frieda glaze in my hair. This glaze requires three minutes of time on the hair to do its job, according to the packaging, and therefore during my shower, it must go on before the body wash step for it to have that time. My mind had been elsewhere, apparently, because OMG! I’ve already reached body wash stage and I HAVEN’T YET PUT THE GLAZE IN MY HAIR!

Armageddon. (This is what it’s like to be me.)

(Let me back up and explain the importance of the JF glaze in my life. My hair is thick and coarse, and the minute it detects any humidity in the air, it doubles in size like a frightened cat. Let me remind you I live in Florida, and it’s a rare day when the humidity isn’t detectible. Using this glaze helps keep my hair under at least partial control.)

So I stood there in the shower, debating—put down the pouf, put the glaze in my hair and hope I leave it on long enough, even though I’ve clearly missed the ideal moment? (I’ve never actually timed the process, so maybe I NEVER leave it in long enough, who knows?) Do I skip the glaze altogether? (Nope, today I’m running errands and going out to dinner so the hair needs all the anti-frizz help it can get).

Routines can be helpful, essential, even. Routines and habits offer comfort and stability. Having a routine to deal with daily tasks can often speed them up and make you more efficient. I can shower, dry my hair, put on makeup, dress and be out the door in half an hour (on a good, non-glaze-dilemma day) and routine is what enables me to do that. Laundry and cleaning have their routines. Without them, I’d be buried in filth.

Many small and sometimes unnoticed routines add pleasure to the day. They become rituals that add to the beauty of life. I spend the first half-hour of my day with coffee, a few bites of scone or muffin, and a notebook and pen. I love this ritual and find it centers me before I begin to work.

Routines can become ruts, however. Ruts can make you feel bored, trapped, or locked into a certain path and unable to alter the course of life. (Or they can leave you feeling plain silly while you stand in the shower with body wash dripping down your arm.)

It pays to examine routines now and then to see if they still serve you, or to see if you’ve become slave instead of master. My shower/glaze moment reminded me that I’m in charge of my routines, not the other way around. It’s also possible you’ve stuck with a routine that has become outdated—your life has changed, but your routine hasn’t, and maybe it should.

Also, occasionally stepping outside routine makes life more interesting and exciting, keeping routines from becoming ruts. You might change anything from the route you take to work to the day you do your grocery shopping. Order a different sandwich at your favorite lunch spot…or choose another lunch spot altogether. Listen to a different type of music, read a magazine you wouldn’t normally pick up, or stop into that little antiques store you keep promising yourself you’ll visit. Maintain the routines that keep your life humming along, but also do something “different” every week—or even every day!

Now I’m off to take a shower…and I won’t forget the glaze.

What are some of your favorite routines? What rut(s) would you like to escape from? What small change can you make to liven up your life?

A Nature Art Journal

Happy Little Things--Resurrection Ferns

August 22, 2014

A few days ago, I read this post on Elizabeth Smith’s blog, A Nature Art Journal. I recognized the ferns she described from my yard—I had just noticed them and was delighted to learn what they were called. I resolved to take some pictures of them. When I did, this is what I found:



We’ve had record high temperatures this past week, and none of the usual summer afternoon storms. Poor little ferns. However, I knew from reading Elizabeth’s post that the fronds could transform from these dead-looking specimens into something lovely. So I decided to water one group of them to see how long it would take to come back from the dead. This is what I found when I went to look later that day:


Amazing! I didn’t water the other group, but it rained last night and this is what I found when I checked this morning:


These little ferns make me happy and inspire me with their delicate beauty and tenacious clinging to life. They find a way to survive even when their environment is hostile, and with the least encouragement, burst out into their true beauty. I should be so resilient!

Please check out Elizabeth’s post for more information on the resurrection fern, and to see her beautiful drawings.

What happy little things have you discovered lately?

Jennifer Louden

Sculpting Time

August 20, 2014



“Time is never lying around waiting for us to find her. She is elusive. She wants you to sculpt her like clay, to mold her into exactly the form you desire your days to take. If you refuse to do that, if you spend your mornings worrying and your afternoons catering to others, always hoping there will be a few minutes left for you, time will play you like a sucker, making you run harder and faster with each passing week. Time wants you to realize that she is the most precious and irreducible fact of your life. Make her into what you will.”
—Jennifer Louden, The Woman’s Retreat Book

Happiness

Namaste

August 18, 2014

I pulled out my yoga mat and one of my favorite yoga DVDs on Saturday. Immediately I attracted the attention of Miss Prudy, who felt that yoga practice was not complete without her participation:




After a few minutes of licking and biting my toes, she retired to the bed where she napped until I finished my workout.


Namaste.
How was last week? Any new simple pleasures or everyday adventures to report?

Blogging

Break Time

August 11, 2014


I will be taking a break from blogging this week. Hope to see you back here soon, and have a happy week!

Gretchen Rubin

Link Love, Self-promotion Edition!

August 08, 2014



I have a travel essay entered in the WeSaidGo essay contest! You can read “The Bits and Pieces Tour” here. Please stop by and take a look.

Elsewhere on the internet:

Change your password, change your life! What a great idea. Read about how the lowly password can remind you of what you want more (or less) of in your life. 

Don’t let these habits steal your happiness. 

Want more reading time? Check out Gretchen Rubin’s “13 Tips for Getting More Reading Done.” 

Interesting piece on how getting rid of expectations can help you “master the art of living.” 

These made me laugh (and almost made me miss working in an office). 

Visit A Blog Made Vibrant for a free downloadable “Emergency Mood Booster” worksheet.

Have a happy Friday!

Poetry

Starry Voices

August 06, 2014


Introduction by Ted Kooser: Readers of this column during the past year have by now learned how enthusiastic I am about poems describing everyday life. I’ve tried to show how the ordinary can be made extraordinary through close and transforming observation. Here Tess Gallagher goes to the mailbox to post a letter. We’ve all done that, haven’t we? But notice how closely she pays attention to this simple experience, and how she fits this one moment into the meaning of her life.

Under Stars

The sleep of this night deepens
because I have walked coatless from the house
carrying the white envelope.
All night it will say one name
in its little tin house by the roadside.

I have raised the metal flag
so its shadow under the roadlamp
leaves an imprint on the rain-heavy bushes.
Now I will walk back
thinking of the few lights still on
in the town a mile away.

In the yellowed light of a kitchen
the millworker has finished his coffee,
his wife has laid out the white slices of bread
on the counter. Now while the bed they have left
is still warm, I will think of you, you
who are so far away
you have caused me to look up at the stars.

Tonight they have not moved
from childhood, those games played after dark.
Again I walk into the wet grass
toward the starry voices. Again, I
am the found one, intimate, returned
by all I touch on the way.

“Under Stars” copyright 1987 by Tess Gallagher. Reprinted from “Amplitude: New & Selected Poems” with the permission of Graywolf Press, Saint Paul, Minnesota. Gallagher’s most recent book of poetry is “Dear Ghosts: Poems,” Graywolf Press, 2006. This weekly column is supported by The Poetry Foundation, the Library of Congress, and the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln.

Alan Bennett

The Best Moments in Reading

July 30, 2014



“The best moments in reading are when you come across something—a thought, a feeling, a way of looking at things—which you had thought special and particular to you. And now, here it is, set down by someone else, a person you have never met, someone even who is long dead. And it is as if a hand has come out, and taken yours”
—Alan Bennett, The History Boys

Are there any writers you feel this way about?

Everyday adventures

Visitors, Both Welcome and Unwelcome

July 28, 2014

Last week my friend Kerri came to stay with me, a most welcome visitor. Kerri and I have been friends since college, and now have the misfortune to live at opposite ends of the country—me in Florida, and Kerri in Washington. We haven’t seen each other in more than a year, and there was much talking (an understatement), eating, puzzling and general merry-making. We crisscrossed the state meeting other friends, both mutual and new to me (hi, Deb!). Despite our late hours and our busy schedule, I feel refreshed and energized by her visit. There’s nothing like the tonic of time spent with a good friend.

I’ll share a few highlights of our simple pleasures and everyday adventures.

Beautiful St. Augustine:
Castillo de San Marcos

Aviles Street--purported to be the oldest in America

St. Augustine Lighthouse

View from the top of the lighthouse

Our 1000-piece puzzle. It was tough!


The beautiful Rainbow River (we floated down it on inner tubes with our friend LuAnne):

On the morning Kerri left, we had a most unwelcome visitor—a coral snake:


Prudy was stalking it (!!). We quickly got her and it out of there. 

My life would be barren without friends—they are essential for my happiness. I’m incredibly lucky to have the ones I have. I need to make sure that time with friends stays at the top of the priority list.

What have you done with your friends lately?

I miss her already

Catharine Savage Brosman

Knee-deep in Green

July 23, 2014

Photo courtesy Bill Davenport

Introduction by Ted Kooser: The Impressionists, on both sides of the Atlantic, gave us a number of handsome paintings of  rural scenes, and here’s a poem by the distinguished American poet, Catharine Savage Brosman, that offers us just such a picture, not in pigments but in words.

Cattle Fording Tarryall Creek

With measured pace, they move in single file,
dark hides, white faces, plodding through low grass,
then walk into the water, cattle-style,
indifferent to the matter where they pass.

The stream is high, the current swift—good rain,
late snow-melt, cold. Immerging to the flank,
the beasts proceed, a queue, a bovine chain,
impassive, stepping to the farther bank—

continuing their march, as if by word,
down valley to fresh pasture. The elect,
and stragglers, join, and recompose the herd,
both multiple and single, to perfect

impressions of an animated scene,
the creek’s meanders, milling cows, and sun.
Well cooled, the cattle graze knee-deep in green.
We leave them to their feed, this painting done.


American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of  Nebraska, Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2014 by Catharine Savage Brosman, whose most recent book of poems is On the North Slope, Mercer University Press, 2012. Poem reprinted by permission of Catharine Savage Brosman. Introduction copyright 2014 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction’s author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006.