California

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September 26, 2011


I returned late Saturday from my trip to California—and thank you all for your good wishes! All went well, and I came back refreshed in body and mind: no alarm clocks (except for the day I left: 3:45 a.m.!), and plenty of time to eat, drink, talk, read and even think (occasionally).

Before I go any farther, I’d like to thank my husband and mother-in-law who kept things running on the home front, making it possible for me to make this trip—love and gratitude to you both!

I flew to Sacramento, where I was born and where my dad and step mom still live, then rented a car and drove a couple hours north to where my mom and step dad live. I split my eight-day visit between the two of them. This blog post will cover the first half of my trip, and Friday’s will cover the rest.

I’ve written about where my mom lives before. Since we moved a lot as I grew up, this house is the closest thing I have to a childhood home. Many of my happiest memories occurred here, and it will always be one of my favorite places. It’s strange to me that though I grew up in California, went to college and got married there, I’ve now lived in Florida almost as long if not longer. (I don’t want to do the math!)

My first full day at my mom’s, I took a walk through part of the property, revisiting places I’d loved as a child:

 The acreage behind the house

The bee hives

The barn

The irrigation ditch

I returned covered in burrs:


I’d made two requests of my mom: visits to Trader Joe’s and to Cal’s Books, an awesome used book store in Redding, CA. TJ’s, as we always used to call it, was more an exercise in torture, because I couldn’t bring back much of anything…though I did buy some snacks and wine to enjoy while I was in California. And Cal’s…well, if you know me at all, you know the attraction there. I found only two books this time, which was probably just as well because I didn’t have room in my suitcase for more.

The last day of my stay with my mom, we checked out Anderson River Park, on the banks of the Sacramento River. After eating our lunch there, we spent the afternoon reading, chatting, relaxing and playing musical chairs trying to stay in the shade. Every so often, a breeze would blow off the river to cool us down. I wandered about a little, taking pictures.





This trip brings up the complicated question of where my “home” really is. Is it the place I grew up, where my birth family lives, and that I still love? Is it the place my husband, son and I live? For me, it’s both—the place of my roots that I will always long for AND the place I currently live with the people I love. I don’t have to choose—the more places that feel like home, the better.

What makes a place home for you?

Everyday adventures

California Bound

September 16, 2011

 By the time you read this, I’ll be in the air, on the way to California to visit my family—all by myself. My husband and son get to spend some quality time with each other (heh) while I take a break. I spent much of yesterday afternoon packing clothes and deciding which books to take (yes, I know an e-reader would be easier to pack, but I’m not there yet—plus I’m still working on reading challenges!). I’m only carrying on (it's been my experience that checked luggage is lost luggage) so space is an issue. I won’t be posting for a week or so, but instead plan to fill the well a bit.


Have a great week!

Happiness

Just Sing

September 14, 2011

“…you don’t have to be a virtuoso at everything you do, in order to be virtuoso at life. Virtuosity in life means singing out—not necessarily singing well.”
—Marianne Williamson


Autumn

It's Coming

September 12, 2011

“Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.”
—Albert Camus

Autumn is my favorite season. Yes, we have autumn in Florida—it’s just not like a typical “autumn” elsewhere. In autumn, cold fronts drop the humidity, and I begin to think being outside is a good idea again. In autumn, I plant a few vegetables hoping for harvest before winter comes.


In autumn, the light through the trees looks different—more golden and mellow instead of harsh and blinding.


A few trees change color, and love bugs appear, and Tank begins growing a winter coat that will have to be clipped off because it will be too hot for him until at least December. The busyness surrounding the start of the school year slows down, but the holiday rush hasn’t started yet. I’m still wearing shorts much of the time, but occasionally I can put on jeans without becoming a puddle of sweat. I feel thankful I’ve survived another summer and look forward to savoring the cooler months ahead.

Autumn isn’t really here yet—but it’s coming. It’s coming.

What’s your favorite season?

Cleaning

Surprised By Happiness

September 09, 2011

When you think of being happy, do you primarily think of doing fun things, getting what you want, or having your life running smoothly? Me, too—but that’s only part of the picture. Happiness is not just something that appears when you reach a goal or finally have that free time you’ve been longing for. Here are some surprising sources of happiness:

For many, work is a source of deep and lasting happiness. Ariel Gore wrote in Bluebird: Women and the New Psychology of Happiness: “...in recent years I’d noticed a growing disconnect between the things I imagined would make me happy and the things that actually did. Potentially ego-boosting rites of passage in my career, for example—awards or good reviews—only seemed to cause me anxiety. Allowing myself to be absorbed in my work, on the other hand, whether it was writing or teaching or doing some familial chore I outwardly complained about, brought a quiet contentment I could feel radiate from my chest.” She continued later in the book, “When we strike a balance between the challenge of an activity and our skill at performing it, when the rhythm of the work itself feels in sync with our pulse, when we know that what we’re doing matters, we can get totally absorbed in our task. That is happiness.”

I don’t know about you, but when I need a quick shot of satisfaction, I begin cleaning and/or organizing. One of my favorite bloggers, Crazy Aunt Purl (Laurie Perry), coped with a scary and unexpected move by scrubbing grout! Perhaps putting one small area of our lives in order helps us cope with chaos elsewhere, I don’t know. All I know is a clean and organized office/refrigerator/hall closet is cause for rejoicing.

“Happy women know that no one gets to be happy all the time,” according to What Happy Women Know, by Dan Baker, Ph.D, Cathy Greenberg, Ph.D, and Ina Yalof.  As Gretchen Rubin notes in her blog post, “Negative emotions are a key part of rational thought and effective performance. Also, up to a point, they can be of great service to happiness. They’re loud, flashy signs that something isn’t right. Because they’re so unpleasant, they can sometimes prod us to take action when nothing else can.” Negative emotions are a part of life—feel them, accept them, learn from them—then let them pass.

According to Dr. George E. Vaillant of Harvard Medical School, what seems to contribute most to happiness as we get older are the coping mechanisms we develop to handle the inevitable pain of life. Coping mechanisms like humor, a positive outlook, willingness to control anger and hostility, and treating others the way we’d like to be treated, help us avoid depression and foster connections with others—both of which make our lives more enjoyable.

This makes me…happy. I see that many factors contribute to a person’s happiness—factors we can control, and ordinary things that are likely already part of our daily lives. Happiness is waiting…we just need to recognize it.

What surprising thing makes you happy?


Houses

Old Houses

September 07, 2011

Photo courtesy Fred Fokkelman
Here is a lovely poem by Robert Cording, a poet who lives in Connecticut, which shows us a fresh new way of looking at something commonplace. That’s the kind of valuable service a poet can provide. [Introduction by Ted Kooser.]

Old Houses

Year after year after year
I have come to love slowly

how old houses hold themselves—

before November’s drizzled rain
or the refreshing light of June—

as if they have all come to agree
that, in time, the days are no longer
a matter of suffering or rejoicing.

I have come to love
how they take on the color of rain or sun
as they go on keeping their vigil

without need of a sign, awaiting nothing

more than the birds that sing from the eaves,
the seizing cold that sounds the rafters.

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 ©2010 by Robert Cording from his most recent book of poetry, “Walking with Ruskin,” CavanKerry Press, Ltd., 2010. Reprinted by permission of Robert Cording. Introduction copyright ©2011 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.

Climbing Trees

Go Climb a Tree

September 02, 2011


One of the bonuses of having my own horse has been the friends I’ve made at the barn where I board. Not long ago, two of us were grazing our horses in the grass along the dirt driveway, when a third friend, Mary Ann, strolled down the road, and reported that she’d just climbed a tree overlooking one of the horses’ paddocks—just to see if she could. This ignited an enthusiastic discussion. Marianne (yes, her name is spelled right: friend one in this story is Mary Ann, friend two is Marianne) admitted she’s climbed the camphor tree in her front yard, also because she wanted to see if she could do it. Marianne also remembered climbing trees with a friend when she was a kid, and rigging a pulley and basket system between their two trees, sending comic books back and forth to each other.

I haven’t climbed any trees lately (I’m thinking I need to get back in practice!), but it was a favorite past time when I was a girl. When we lived in southern California, we had an apricot tree growing near our flat-roofed garage. This tree, in addition to being covered with delicious fruit every summer, also sent its limbs up and over the garage roof, creating a small, enclosed bower, perfect for an 11-year-old who would take a book, shinny up the tree and curl up in a secluded and private reading nook.

Mary Ann just happens to be 60 years old. She has the most youthful spirit of anyone I know. She comes to the barn daily where she does barn chores and takes care of her 22-year-old ex-racehorse. I’m not saying it’s tree climbing that is keeping her young, but it can’t hurt.

Mary Ann and Frenchy
How often do we stop ourselves because we feel we’re “too old” to do something? Why limit ourselves like that? I certainly advocate being careful and following commonsense safety rules, but if you want to ride the roller coaster, white water raft, go hiking, dance to the radio—or go climb a tree—please, go ahead.

Is there anything you secretly long to do that you think you can’t? What keeps you feeling young and energized?