Theory #1 - My "Speck Theory"

I have a theory. Actually I have a few, but let me pace myself.

This theory is one I named several years ago; I call it my "Speck Theory." Not everyone will understand it, and certainly there will be those who disagree with it. Now where do I begin?

I was raised a Catholic. I attended Catholic school, went to mass at least once a week, and had, what I consider anyway, a very sheltered childhood. Don't misunderstand - I had a great childhood and received a first rate education. What I did not learn about, however, had to do with the ways of the world and all other religions. I went to public high school, as there was no Catholic high school here at the time. And it was then that I slowly (and I do mean slowly) began to see more of the true workings of society. I started to realize that there were aspects of Catholicism with which I did not/do not agree. Nothing drastic - I never felt the need to renounce the Church. I had no desire, really, to completely alienate myself from it. I just felt the need to explore other belief systems a little bit.

My belief in "God," or a Supreme Being, or a Higher Power, or whatever you wish to call it if you believe in "it," has not waned. I believe that there is at least some version of heaven or the hereafter. And I believe that when we pass, it is simply the end of our physical body. I do not believe that any one religion is "right," and all the others are "wrong," that any one person's "God" is the only god and no other should be followed. I believe that we are all here to learn and to experience, and that we should all strive to experience love - to give it, to receive it, to be it. I believe that we are all in this together and that we are, in fact, all together one. (One of my favorite sayings - a Vedic saying - "I am that, you are that, all this is that - that's all there is.")

So, here I am. One little person in a town of 90,000, in a country of 307,054,000 on a planet of (how many?) people, in a solar system of eight (nine?) planets, in an infinite universe, in . . . who knows? Imagine you're on one of those other planets or out in the universe somewhere and look at planet Earth. Where am I? I am not even a speck from this vantage point. But zoom in a little, then zoom in a little more, and maybe I'm a speck on a speck on a speck. Such a seemingly insignificant piece of it all, but not insignificant at all. Not insignificant to me, nor to my husband, or my children, or grandchildren, or friends. Not insignificant to the people that I work with and for, nor to the birds that I feed or the plants that I water. Not insignificant to my parents and other relatives that have passed before me, or to the grandchildren and great-grandchildren that are not yet here.

So what's the point of all this? There is no point except that I am a speck - but an essential speck. So many other specks are dependent on me. Think about it next time you are in your car driving to work, or in a plane flying across a continent, or even standing in line at a coffee shop. Imagine yourself in the cosmos somewhere, and look down on your earthly body. Are you a speck too?

In this together with you,

Don't tell my sewing machine but . . .

. . . all these cute projects make me want to kiss and make up with my sewing machine.

Patisserie Soleil felt desserts . . . look good enough to eat.


Heather Bailey pincushions . . . so cheery!

Or these far out Amy Butler lounge pants . . . so groovy . . .

and her Gumdrop Cushions to lounge on . . . aaahhhh . . .

And my granddaughter would love Ruby and Ginger . . .

And Grandmas can have dolls, too, right? I think I might have to have a few of these Felted Buddhas.



Peace and creativity,

Messages from my Father

For the last couple of weeks, I have been compiling a short list of songs that evoke immediate and specific memories for me. It's something that happens to everyone - you hear a particular song and you are transported at once back to a place in time that encapsulates a significant moment in your life. Mostly, they are special, tender, beautiful moments; but not always.

I will still do that post one of these days, but tonight I read this post by Spudballoo. She was also transported by a song today, and while I know it was painful (you can feel it in her writing), it's also special. I doubt that she would like to never hear the song again. It's a special song to her; it's just painfully special.

Both of my parents have passed - my Mom in 1997 and my Dad in June of 2002. When my Dad died, my brother and I (I have one brother and two sisters) were co-executors of his trust. Suffice it to say that things got complicated, and - I'll even just come out and say it - damned ugly. I wound up taking care of almost every aspect of the trust, partly because my brother just couldn't or wouldn't, and partly because he (although he was not alone) decided that my father's wishes were wrong and things should be done differently. I couldn't let that happen. For the next couple of months I methodically carried out the instructions of my father's trust and will. We all fought (it was pretty much two against two) and I wanted to just quit and cut myself out of it completely in order to just be done with the whole thing. But I carried on, in large part because I couldn't deal with the guilt of feeling that I was letting my father down, and also because I felt I had to be sure things were done the way Dad wanted them done.

I got to a point where I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, I had headaches all the time, and I lost weight. It was September and there was one last thing to take care of, something that my brother should have taken care of anyway. I got home from work that day and gathered the remaining documents together. I had my daughter drive me to my brother's house and I knocked on his door. I handed him the paperwork and said, "I quit."

I cried all the way home I'm sure, partly from guilt, maybe partly from relief. I apologized to my father over and over again and prayed that he understood. When I finally crawled into bed that night, I was flipping through channels on the TV. I ran across one of the country music video channels and stopped there. I had never before, and have never since, seen a video clip of Patsy Cline singing "Crazy" on a music video channel. It was one of my Dad's favorite songs, and I can still here him singing it. :) (He thought he was quite a crooner.) I knew right away that it was a message from him. He was telling me, "Hey, kid. It's okay! Don't feel bad! You did good, and I'm proud of you and I love you." Oh yeah - it was my Dad's birthday that day.

My Dad has sent me messages like that a few times. I remember one morning several years ago leaving the house in the morning. I don't remember what was going on at the time - maybe there was nothing other than the fact that I might have needed a hug that day. My daughter was in the car with me; I was dropping her off at school and then going to work. She turned the radio on and tuned it to the country music station. There was a song just starting - "Kiss an Angel Good Morning" by Charlie Pride. Another of my Dad's favorites, and another one of those songs that you just don't hear everyday. I just smiled and said to myself, "Good morning Dad!" The song concluded and, instead of the disc jockey coming on, another song immediately started - "Old Dogs, Children, and Watermelon Wine" by Tom T. Hall. I had to pull the car over to the side of the road. It was Dad for sure.

My son and my Dad - about 1984

Of course those moments make me cry. There isn't even a second to try to suck it up and hold back the tears to save for later. It's automatic. And it's kind of sad, but it's very reassuring at the same time. I know that I have angels watching over me, and I know that I am never alone. And I really wouldn't trade those moments for anything.

I wanted to tell you a simple story . . .

I wanted to tell you a simple story about an interesting bit of trivia that my husband shared with me a couple weeks ago. But since I haven't written much here about my husband, I wanted to describe him a little bit first.

My first attempt at describing the hubby was, "My husband is what you might consider the ultimate man's man. He is strong and tough, smart and witty, and definitely fills his role as the hunter in our hunter-gatherer relationship. I especially like having him around because he can fix darned near anything."

However, not wanting to ever write anything erroneous here, I thought I should check to be sure that my understanding of the term "man's man" was, in fact, correct. I mean, after all, I'm not a man, so do I truly understand the whole "man's man" concept? I really don't know. So I looked it up.

Urban Dictionary defines man's man as: "He always shaves and wears clothes that fit. He's worldly, educated, and a gentleman. He thinks that buttoned shirts are not just for special occasions and that newspapers have more than one section. While he is polite, he is not a pushover. He will swear when he needs to, but will try to control his temper. He can handle his liquor and keeps himself in shape." Um . . . nope, that's not it exactly. There's a lot there that's not my husband. Will go days without shaving. Buttoned shirts are for uber special occasions only. Is polite most of the time.

Mans-man.com states: "They're charismatic. They appeal to both sexes. They're down-to-earth and affable. They're leaders. They have a sense of style. They're cool under pressure. They're mavericks. They're winners. They're masculine. They're the kind of men other men respect and look up to. They're the kind of men that women swoon over. A Man's Man is fiercely loyal to his friends. He's the guy who will give you the shirt off his back without question." Okay. That's a little closer. He's definitely down-to-earth, he's masculine, and would, without a doubt, give you the shirt off his back.

Maybe the term I was looking for was "manly man."

Urban Dictionary again: "Manly Man A man who is comfortable in his own skin, but doesn't use skin care products. Someone who drives a vehicle with "muscle" but knows where to draw the line. i.e.- you won't need a ladder to get in. A man who loves women, but not all at the same time. *see playa. Protective but not overly aggressive. Prefers big dogs over cats. Masculine sans machismo. Heterosexual, period. Soap? Irish Spring, of course. Brad Pitt is not a manly man but George Clooney and Paul Newman are." Some of this fits too. No skin care products, drives a truck, likes big dogs especially Labradors. However, not a playa.

So maybe I'll skip the label and just describe him.

He is a friend to everyone he meets, he's the life of the party, he loves to laugh. He is a hunter and a fisherman. He is jeans or shorts and t-shirts, and flip flops. He is a mechanic, a carpenter, and an all around Mr. Fixit. He is a mean barbecuer and great omelet maker (even though he's allergic to eggs). He is a history buff and a proud American. He is a stepfather and a grandfather, aka wagon puller and bubble blower. He is rock and roll, and just a little bit country. He is a blue eyed, (used to be blond) bald headed, rugged (ala the days without shaving) middle-aged man.

And he's mine!

So, what was the little story I wanted to share? A couple of weeks ago, after spending an hour or two watching the History Channel, the Hubby asked me if I knew how Maybelline mascara/eyeliner came to be. I did a quick mental search (I really wanted to say, "Well, yes as a matter of fact I do!") but came up with nothing. It seems that many millions of cakes of eyeliner and many billions of tubes of mascara ago, a young scientist saw his sister mixing coal dust and Vaseline and applying it to darken her eyes.

And according to Wikipedia: "The Maybelline Company was created by New York chemist T.L. Williams in 1913. Williams, then in his early 20s, noticed his younger sister applying a mixture of Vaseline and coal dust to her eyelashes to give them a darker fuller look. He adapted it in his little laboratory and produced a product sold locally called Lash-Brow-Ine. The product was a local hit, but the awkward name held it back. His sister, who inspired the product, was named Mabel. So T.L. Williams re-named it Maybelline, a combination of Mabel and Vaseline. It is under this name that Maybelline has achieved its now legendary status in the field of cosmetics. In 1917 the company produced Maybelline Cake Mascara, "the first modern eye cosmetic for everyday use" and Ultra Lash in the 1960s, which was the first mass-market automatic mascara."

Well isn't that a fascinating tidbit of trivia to stash away!

I think I'll keep him.

End of Week Confessions

Just a little miscellany - nothing for the Enquirer or anything. (a couple of those are in the very fine print at the bottom. tee hee!)

I often have a slice of cheese before bed.

I have a couple pairs of pants on which the hem has come loose, and I've been fixing them with double sided tape - for months!

I had to cancel a dentist appointment last August and told them I would call to reschedule. I haven't called yet. (I really did intend to! I promise!)

Sometimes when I'm home alone and I don't feel like talking to anyone, I just don't answer the phone - no matter who is calling.

I have a tattoo.

I (almost) never (about 95% of the time) try things on before I buy them. And I'm not the best at returning things quickly. (I once tried to return 2 pairs of pants to a store that had a 30 day return policy. I'd bought the pants 32 days before I went in to return them. They were only going to give me about 25% of what I paid for them, so I kept them and didn't shop there for almost a year. Turns out I tried the pants on again a couple of months later and I love them.)

I have never had a bikini wax. Once after getting my hair cut short, I had a couple small patches of hair on my neck waxed, and it hurt like a mother! For a couple of days! I think I would have to take a couple of sick days from work if I did the bikini wax.

I hate my freckles (actually a combination of freckles and moles. but I hate the word "moles" so I just call them all freckles.) (Oh yeah - and a growing number of age spots too.)

I am secretly thrilled with the fact that I don't yet have gray hair (a very few strands here and there). And I'm the oldest of 4, and everyone else does. (Now, of course I'm going to wake up in the morning and be totaly gray! Yikes!)

I love it when my husband is out of town for a couple days, and I have the bed to myself.

I occassionally sneak in a load of laundry during "peak hours." (power bill is cheaper if we stick to a special plan where we use minimally between 9 a.m. and 9 p.m. Monday through Friday.)

I spent a night in jail when I was 18.
I went skinny dipping with one of the guys from a band after the bar closed.

"Clutter Blocks Success"

On mornings when I steal a few minutes to read my e-mail before leaving for work, I usually have to pick and choose just a couple that sound especially enlightening or intriguing. Sometimes I hit the jackpot, and sometimes I don't. But today I opened a little pearl. It is both luminous and simple in its message, really, and the timing couldn't be more ideal for me.

Read more about the author, Christine Kane, below. And check out her blog and her music if you have the time.

The Year I Discovered How Clutter Blocks Success

I looked at my phone in horror.

"You want me to what?" I said into it.

"It's time, Christine. You've been talking about that basement for weeks now. It's time to deal with it."

I had been working with my coach for months at this point. And even though I had reached certain levels of success in my career, I kept getting stuck in the same old ruts. I was about to record my fourth CD, and I was ready to move to a higher level.

Thom was doing what good coaches do: listening carefully, seeing clearly - and of course, pushing me to take conscious action.

So, he encouraged me to start small and completely clear out the junk in my basement. Thirty minutes a day.

One section at a time. Building momentum as I went.

Each week, during our call, I'd report back on my progress. Each week, I had a new reason why I simply could not let go of some clutter-y item.

"But I spent so much on it!" "I might need it someday!" "I could gain weight and need this again." "I paid such a good price for it!"

To my credit, I did pretty well at letting go once Thom talked me through these old mindsets.

Then came the week I had to face one particularly significant section of the basement.

It was where I stored various pieces of furniture I had gotten at the Salvation Army and at local flea markets when I first began my songwriting career. A bookcase, a kitchen table, a dresser, and a few shelves. I no longer liked or used this furniture because my tastes totally changed. I had begun to cherish beauty and opulence in my surroundings. I wanted to fill my home only with items that I loved."

So, Christine," Thom asked. "Why don't you want to let these things go?"

I was embarrassed. But I told him the truth. "Well, here's the thing. If my music career doesn't work out, I might need them one day. If I fail, and I don't have any money, I might wish I had kept these things."

Long pause. "So, you'll be on the street - but at least you'll have that bookcase?"

I laughed.

Thom sighed. And what he said next has been a core lesson of creating my success and happiness.

He said that everything in our lives has energy. Everything has our thoughts and emotions embedded into it. Old furniture is no exception. In essence, what I was saying to the universe and to my subconscious, creative self was this:

I believe so deeply in my own failure that I'm holding onto physical things that represent that possibility. Every time I walk by these items in my basement, I will be reminded of my inevitable failure. Every moment I'm in my house, my subconscious will know that in the very foundation of my life (my basement), there are items that prove I don't believe in my own success.

That week, I called Goodwill, and scheduled an appointment to have the old furniture taken away.

I'd love to report that I smiled and waved as the old clunky furniture was carried away. But the truth is I was terrified. I was letting go of my Plan B. I was saying to the Universe:

"I thoroughly believe in my own success."

I had never done that before in such a concrete way!

As I wrote earlier, I began recording my fourth CD "Rain & Mud & Wild & Green" as I was clearing out the basement. That CD went on to sell five times more than any of my other CD's. It received rave reviews. Border's Books featured it on a listening post that year, and named it the top CD of the year in my category.

Now, even though I know this success wasn't ONLY about letting go of my old flea market furniture, I have become a firm believer that we each need to pay attention to the energy of the stuff that surrounds us. We need to pay attention to what we are telling our subconscious minds when we hold on.

Now you.

What are you holding onto? What thoughts and beliefs are you putting out into the Universe by clinging to it? Are you telling yourself you don't believe in the inevitability of your own success and prosperity? Or that you don't believe you can expand and create better things in your life?

Pick one thing - just one small thing - and let it go. Today!

Performer, songwriter, and creativity consultant Christine Kane publishes her 'LiveCreative' weekly ezine with more than 4,000 subscribers. If you want to be the artist of your life and create authentic and lasting success, you can sign up for a FREE subscription to LiveCreative at http://www.christinekane.com/.

More Simple Things

It's been a couple of weeks now since Christina of Soul Aperture invited us to slow down and take note of the simple things that bring us joy. For some reason, summertime just seems to be all about simple things. Or maybe it's because summertime is steeped in so many traditions, and they remind us of simpler times. In any case, I'm continuing to be a big fan of simple things.

ironing (with a linen spray with just the slightest scent of lavender)

a plain white linen blouse

vanilla ice cream

sprinklers

whisper pink toenail polish


singing

"creating" with magazine cut outs, paper, and glue


piggy banks

a wave from a neighbor

ice cold watermelon

cartoons and cereal on Saturday mornings (no age limit!)

car trips with "slug bug" and travel games and rushing to put your shoes back on when stopping for a potty break

I hope you take the time to enjoy a few simple things today.

Peace,

5-7-5

A sprinkling of summer haiku . . .

sound of a mower

and it's eight o'clock at night

must be summertime

hear the cicadas

as they all sing the same song

but you can't see them

turf wars with the weeds

a battle i'll never win

humbly i concede

little feathered friends

finding damp spots in the shade

trying to stay cool

Decluttering and Creativity

I have been cleaning, decluttering, purging -- whatever you would like to call it. I don't know if it's the hot (and I do mean hot!) weather, but I feel almost "stifled by stuff" at home lately. Things are not really out of place (except for the pantry and my closet) but our house is 13 years old and there is a list of things that are starting to look old and worn. It's time to start addressing that list, and it seems logical (to me anyway) that a good place to start is just with a good thorough cleaning - top to bottom, room to room, wall to wall - and maybe some fresh paint.

During my "rest breaks" (they are a requirement after all, what with the heat and everything), I've torn pages out of magazines and grouped them by themes. As time has permitted, I've quickly done some mini collages of some of my favorite colors and themes.

Such great fun. Hope to do more in the next couple of days.

Observations on a Weekend

Little dirty feet always seem to be wet, thereby leaving little dirty footprints/smudges on every inch of tile floor.

Coffee really does taste the best on Sunday mornings when it can be drunk slowly (with no three-year-olds around!).

It is possible to do four things at once: boil potatoes for salad (and beets for lunch), run a load of laundry, water the backyard, and vacuum.

If you feed them, they will come. (In this case, the birds; but I’m sure it applies to other areas as well.) ;)

Tuna salad is good for breakfast.

Three-year-olds are easy to please when it comes to buying birthday presents. (I asked my granddaughter what she wanted for her birthday next Saturday. She said, “avocado.” I asked her how many and she said, “two.” Then I asked her how old she was going to be and she said, “July.” )

When my daughter was young, she jabbered ALL THE TIME!! (She even got a sweatshirt for Christmas one year that said, “Help! I’m talking and I can’t shut up.”) Granddaughter is turning out to be exactly like her mother. ;)

The little 3 ounce single serve cups of ice cream that you can buy by the dozen from the supermarket are really, really good!

Naps are wonderful.

Trying to get motivated and accomplish anything after a nap of more than an hour is next to impossible.

Baby Steps in . . .

watercolor journaling

I have, for many years, admired travel sketchbooks and journals, especially those done in watercolors.

I am a big fan of watercolors in general. I don't know if it's their softness, or the way they seem to be especially forgiving, as it really seems to me that many appear to be colored "outside the lines." I just like them.

For me, part of the appeal of sketchbooks and travel journals is that they are done quickly and in the moment. I fully admit that patience is not one of my strongpoints. So the idea of completing a sketch or painting in a journal in a matter of minutes or an hour, as opposed to days or weeks, really thrills me.

My grandmother painted. She dabbled in acrylics and I have one of her paintings hanging in my spare bedroom. It's just a vase of flowers, and it's not perfect, but that's not why she painted. She painted because she was a creative type. She gardened, she crocheted, she sewed, she loved to write letters, she loved to cook and have luncheons for her lady friends. I have realized just in the last couple of years how much I am like her. And I miss her.

My favorite of her paintings, though, are a couple of miniature watercolor landscapes that she did for me. She used just the little dime store eight-color paint palette and the paintbrush that came with it. And her "canvas" was the tiny piece of cardboard that used to be in the bottom of the purse-sized packets of tissues. It's about 2 or 3 inches wide by about 4 inches long. I was probably still in grade school when she painted them, and I was in awe. She was an artist!

I have "dabbled" myself several times in the last few years. Other than a few very small Chinese brush paintings that I am fairly pleased with, I never felt that I got the hang of it. I never liked the finished product. I've tried watercolor pencils, a small watercolor palette, and even a few tubes of watercolor paints. I recently signed up for a class next month - just three hours one morning at a botanical garden. But I decided I wanted to practice a little bit ahead of time. I found some instructional videos on the Internet and watched them, and decided to give it another go.

The first sketch I did just in watercolor pencils a couple of months ago. I had not added any water until today. I don't love it, but it's a little better after I played with it today.

The next two I did tonight. I used watercolor pencils again and just looked at some pictures from a magazine and copied thrm.

I rather like the lavender. And the fruit is kind of growing on me. I definitely can't wait to try some more! On to the paint palette next.

Wreck This Journal

An Ode to a Journal







I wrecked this journal once,
I wrecked this journal twice.
It started getting easier
to "not be nice."

I wrecked this journal three times,
and then I wrecked it four.
And my inner "wrecker"
hollered, "I want more!"

I've wrecked it with a pen,
I've wrecked it with some glue.
I've wrecked it with some coffee,
and with some pudding too.

I've yet to take it for a walk,
or with me in the shower.
In fact, the mere thought of it
makes me kind of cower.

A few more weeks of wrecking.
And then what? It's the end?
I'll be sad cause it's become
somewhat of a friend.


Corny, yes. But creativity is what it is!
Be sure to go to Wreck This Journal to witness the creative genius of Wreckers everywhere!

Simple Things

Christina at Soul Aperture has invited us to celebrate Simple Things today. Thank you Christina for opening that little door for me - the little door that led to a small, quiet spot in my head for this contemplation.




good hair days, a big glass of iced tea with the perfect amount of lemon and sweetener, coffee when my husband makes it, a slab of romaine lettuce with a drizzle of blue cheese dressing, #2 yellow pencils, ceiling fans, butterflies floating through the backyard, rocks, cereal for supper, swinging on the glider on my back patio, getting my feet wet with the hose while watering the flowers out back, freshly cut grass, a clean pillowcase, a bath, the smell of an onion field when it goes to seed, washing breakfast dishes by hand, canning jars, Old Navy flip flops

I hope you are enjoying the simple things today.

Things To Do/Did Today

Things To Do/Did Today:

• Day 2 of meditation practice instead of computer/internet time before work. I'm on a roll now!


• Received 2 more postcards from Postcrossing! These from Great Britain and Taiwan.



• Received my Student Packet for Art Unraveled in the mail. (Yay! I'm really going! Only one class but I can't wait.)
• Had salad for dinner (so cool and refreshing!)
• Received a PILE of catalogs in the mail (Viva Terra, Acacia, JJill, et al) but haven't read them yet
• Getting my clothes laid out for tomorrow and getting my lunch together for tomorrow (also something new I'm doing as opposed to doing it all in the morning)

And I promise (myself!) I'm going to be in bed before 10! (that's in 75 minutes). Haven't commented on all your wonderfulness and creativity as much as I'd like to so far this week, but I have been visiting! Will catch up with comments on Friday.

Who Loves Ya Baby!

If you are reading this, I have an assignment for you.


It's not difficult. It won't take long. In fact, I'll even do it right along with you.


Take your hands off your keyboard. Wrap your arms around yourself and say, "(Your name), I love you! You are a beautiful person! And Janet loves you too!"


Have a great week!

Big Girl Panties?

The weekend is progressing nicely. Although it's ridiculously hot outside. But that's why we have air conditioning - and lots of books and magazines, and a comfy chair in front of the computer for blogging, and a very light throw at the foot of the bed for keeping the draft from the air conditioning off one's legs while napping, and a rotisserie chicken in the fridge for dinner so I don't have to cook, and several different kinds of ice cream in the freezer. Ah . . . summertime!

Now, I have done the required laundry today, and I did clean the kitchen pretty thoroughly this morning, and even wiped down the windowsills in the kitchen and the dining room. I dusted in the dining room and my bedroom (still have a little bit left to do in there), and I have cleaned and organized my hobby room (aka the library, the office, the craft room). I managed to get outside to deep water the plants and tend to the birdcages, and I had to bandage up the bougainvilla that blew down off the arbor a few nights ago when it got very windy.

While I was outside watering, I gathered up some seed pods and skeleton leaves and things - even some moth wings - for a page in my WTJ (multitasking!) And I did take the time to glue and tape them into the journal because I didn't want to lose them once I brought them all into the house.

I've had coffee and iced tea, cut up kiwi fruit and strawberries and honeydew melon, a little cheese to go with the fruit, several bites of shrimp cocktail leftover from last night, half of a hamburger (shared with my husband), a handful of tortilla chips with guacamole, some chicken and rice, and (here's where it gets ugly) several "bites" of brownie, and i-don't-know-how-many powdered sugar donut holes that I bought for my Full Moon Dreamboard Circle tomorrow because they looked like little full moons.

And I feel horrible.

I am miserable.

In fact, I'm sitting here now in a pair of eleastic waist shorts (had my fave cargo shorts on earlier in the day but all those pockets and snaps and buttons make for uncomfortable napping), and my stomach feels so awful that the elastic is pulled way up underneath my rib cage to get it off my stomach. It's not pretty.

What has happened to me? I never used to be like this. I was always active - go, go, go; run, run, run; clean, clean, clean. Hustle and bustle! And I would never have even considered bringing powdered sugar donuts home, or if I did for some sort of occasion, they wouldn't have even been opened until just before the guests arrived. Tsk, tsk, tsk.

But I know what has happened to me. It's this. It's blogging. And Twitter. And Facebook (though not so much). And e-mail. And everything else that is a byproduct of one of the above, e.g., WTJ, collage art, links to interesting websites, etc. All such wonderful things! I'm not blaming them, however. You can't blame the pusher for an addict's addiction; you can't blame the pub for the alcoholic's fall from the wagon.

I have everything I need to right the situation. I have a trash can into which the donuts can go (actually I have the strength to just keep my hands off! The brownies too!). I have a yoga mat and yoga and pilates DVD's. I have an elliptical trainer and an iPod with some kick-ass tunes. So I figure I have options. I can:

• quit blogging altogether (yeah right)
• quit eating and only drink coffee and blog (hmmm . . .)
• hire a maid and a cook and buy more elastic waist shorts
• figure out a way to get my favorite bloggers to record themselves reading their blogs so I can listen while I work out (this might be my favorite)
• get a mini voice recorder and write/dictate my blog while on the eliptical trainer for posting later (if possible to understand with all the huffing and puffing and groaning)
• exercise for 30 minutes, blog for an hour; read (a book!) for an hour, blog for an hour;
• 15 minutes of meditation first, then 15 minutes of computer before work in the morning (in that order only!)

The key is really - though it sounds a bit (a lot) cliché - everything in moderation. And I can handle it. After all, I am a big girl - with big girl (elastic waisted) panties!

Happy weekend!

Wreck This Journal - Week 5

I played a little more this week and had great fun!


the page that got washed - this was a surprise. I expected it to hold up a little bit better!

this was great! it gave me a perfect reason to sort through my pile of markers and toss old ones.

have I mentioned that I love post-it notes, especially the little page marker flags?

There is so much more going on! Go to The Next Chapter - Wreck This Journal (hosted by Jamie at Starshyne Productions ) and be wowed by all the creative destruction!

And the Morning Coffee Award Goes To . . .

Some weeks back, Liz at The Fragrant Muse honored me with The Morning Coffee Award. It was my first award and meant a lot to me because I hadn't been blogging very long at all at the time. I thought I was all that and a bag of beans! (coffee beans of course!)

I have been remiss in not passing this token on to another. But I'm actually glad I waited, because in that time I've encountered a vivacious and authentic soul, who, with her verve, could almost replace my coffee in the morning. I get that much of a lift from her writing. I am very pleased to present The Morning Coffee Award to Holly at Your Mother Knows But Won't Tell You.

for blogs that go well with morning coffee

Holly, I hope you will accept this award from little ol' me, I mean, since you are the Queen of the Universe and everything! Thank you for sharing your spark with me, and please keep on writing!

Cheers!

Wishcasting Wednesday

What Do You Wish To Nurture?

Because I'm located on the west coast, I'm often one of the last to post on any given Wednesday for Wednesday Wishcasting. And I often sit and read and offer up wishes on everyone else's posts before actually writing mine. But I did something different today. I did not want to be influenced by any other's wishes. I wanted to contemplate the question and write my own wish first. I guess I wanted to take it a bit more seriously than usual.

This week, Jamie asks, "What do you wish to nurture?" I wish to nurture my inner yogi. I love yoga, and I love some of the associated/similar habits and practices, like meditation. I just don't manage very often to actually stop everything else I'm doing and spend my time practicing. I know the benefits of yoga and meditation - I've experienced them!

Lately, I've had too frequent periods where I almost can't draw in a deep breath, or my breath catches, and I have to consciously make myself breathe slowly and deeply. And there have been too many days where I have had to stop and tell myself to lower my shoulders because they've been hunched up around my ears for too long. And I know how to fix it, but . . .

So I implore you, Universe, I come to you on bended knee (or maybe two bended knees in child's pose) I wish to nurture my inner yogi. Namaste!