All in Need

A few years ago I went on a Christmas/Birthday vacation to the beach with most of my family.  It was my step-mother's 60th Birthday, it was Christmas, she wanted all the kids together to celebrate and she loved the beach so we headed down to a beautiful spot at the very end of Alabama.  Having grown up in Alabama, I had never been there.  We always went to Florida instead.  We nicknamed any beach in Alabama the "Red Neck Riviera".  We're tacky, what can we say?  And this coming from a family who grew up in an apartment with no vacations I can honestly remember.  

Dad rented two beautiful homes right on the beach with a golf course (all the men in the family golf, I think Dad did some ritual on them to ensure this before we married them).  We arrived at night so we really couldn't see anything, but we could feel the beach.  I could feel the beach.   


I love the ocean.  I love the smell of the ocean breeze, I love sand in my toes and hair, I love drip drying in the sun.  I love keeping the door open so I can hear the waves.  I love the exhaustion that comes from swimming non-stop for hours at a time. I love sleeping in the sun. I love snorkeling.  I love seeing this entire world that you can't see unless you're under the water. And the quiet peacefulness of that.  I love everything about it.  


That night we all tucked in, I opened the door to hear the waves and slept like I had returned back to my home. I awoke the next morning, crammed a piece of toast in the kids' mouths, shewed the husbands out the door to golf and ran to the beach.  Giddy.  I took Julia, Emma and Olivia (my two daughters and their cousin) while everyone else was doing whatever they were doing.  


We stepped up on the sand and literally I could not see ONE SINGLE HUMAN BEING in either direction.  It was probably 68 degrees, a nice slow breeze, the sand was warm but not hot.  But if you dug down a little deeper it was chilly.  The water was cool but not cold.  And it was quiet.  All I could hear was the sound of the children laughing.  It was heaven for me.

Then I all of the sudden said to myself "Am I dead?"  Did I die last night and this is what heaven is?  Because, for me, a beach, the sound of children laughing, wind in my hair, sun on my face and not having one conceivable worry in my head is heaven.  The ultimate bonus was NO ONE else was there.  No one!  Really? Am I dead?


The funniest part was I had almost convinced myself that indeed I was dead until I heard a woman say "Enjoy it.  Can you imagine a more beautiful place?"  and walked down the stairs and disappeared.  


I told my Dad this when we all had dinner.  He laughed and Jim, Joel and Dad all said "That's exactly what we thought!  We were on a golf course, on a perfect day and NO ONE else was there.  We thought we had died."  We all just cracked up.  The kids didn't seem to get the humor.  


That feeling of 'this is almost too good' is where I am.  I feel like things are going so well that I'm going to drop dead.  Don't laugh. Most people call it 'waiting for the other shoe to drop' but I'm a bit more dramatic with my thoughts; death is surely before a tiny shoe.  I've handled boat loads of shoes at the same time.  That, I can handle.  As long as they aren't 4" platform stiletto heels (which, by the way seem to be on every ad, picture and magazine cover.  Since when did being a pole dancer become main stream?).  


My whirlwind tour of Georgia went extraordinarily well.  Too well.  Freakishly well.  So well, that one of my oldest friends in the world is going to partner with me on the textiles. Too many details, but it is a perfect fit for both of us and we don't have to worry about all of the 'what if's' because we've known each other for, dare I say it, 19 years.  EEEK.  Ok, it's out.  We're deciding on a business name at the moment.  Too much wine, too many funny stories and a wicked sense of humor might have us named "Edna Bubba".   That was for all my gals who went to the Bahamas with me for my 40th.  To the grave girls.  To the grave.  


The possibilities are literally endless right now.  And all the while I was staying with my soul sister in Atlanta plotting rituals for our Yuccah tribe children.  THAT is another story... but oh, the power of a 13 year olds' imagination....  


BODY:   I am trying to stay awake.  SO much to do, thoughts rambling non-stop and me not sleeping because of all of these thoughts make me skittered.  I'm going to join something. Something that has a set time where I need to be to exercise because, I just can't motivate myself to do it, mainly because I am starring at everything I need to do in my office.  


I did, however,  hire a friend to help get me organized on all of this.  That sounds so, so , ew. But I can't do this without her.  I don't have time to paint, sketch, come up with textile ideas, make the phone calls, find a studio (which, I think Sarah came through AGAIN for me), make the appointments,  blah blah and still be a Mom and wife.  Did someone say Celebrity Rehab? Maybe there should be a non-celebrity rehab. Oh wait, that's called INTERVENTION.  


SOUL:  Yen/Yang again.  Here I am getting some of the best news of my life in Atlanta/Columbus.  I return Wednesday to a sick red head so I snuggled her and laughed with her until she got to feeling better.  Then I read my emails and found out that a friend's husband died Saturday morning.  Died. Died of pneumonia.  Died. I was dumbfounded.  She has two small children and the most beautiful smile I've ever seen.  I had recently seen her and her beautiful children at the Nutcracker where a mutual friends' daughter was a mouse.  I can't imagine the pain she is in.  The celebration of his life is tomorrow and I will be there. Sometimes the English language doesn't come close to expressing our emotions.  Since she is French, I'm sure she would agree that the French language doesn't do much better of a job either.


Then I got a phone call reminding me of Room In The Inn.  What I had forgotten was the meal for 15 people that I was making the next day.   Entree, salad, bread.   Totally forgot.  So, I meet with my new lovely assistant about everything that needs to be done, have a phone meeting with the owner of the furniture company, pick up the girls from school and throw together two different pots of white turkey chili and grubbin' chicken soup along with a salad of cranberries, mixed greens, cucumbers, bleu cheese crumbles and two huge french bread loaves, all in 1 hour. I was supposed to make a pot each for us as well, but time was ticking.  I felt like those chefs on those shows; Chopped and Iron Chef.  No wonder those people sweat like pigs!  Hey wait.  THAT could be exercise, right? 


But you know what?  After I dropped off the food for them, and didn't have anything made for us :)  I felt better.  The girls delivered it with me.  I want them to SEE the action of doing for others.  Helping people move, paint their houses, feed the hungry (which includes your own friends), DO.  Not just throw a pair of worn out jeans in the back of a Goodwill truck and drive away or write a check to some organization that you have only heard of. 


I want them to look into the eyes of those in need because quite frankly, we are ALL in need.  For something. 

Pressure Light is ON

I've had one of the best days, accidentally and purposefully surrounded by good friends, old friends and new friends.  Blathering out everything that is going on in my life right now and listening to what's up in theirs.  Loved that.  At coffee shops as if we were 'people' to be seen.  I was dressed, brushed, cleaned and spiffied up by 8 a.m. and one of my friends nearly fainted.  She's only seen me in a robe or yoga pants yawning in the morning.  Hulloo!!

I had breakfast with one, late lunch with another.  Very different people but great none the less.  I was surprised by how similar our families really are/were; mainly spiritually.   I am delighted that we can laugh about that.  Of course, there really isn't much I can't laugh about.  I inherited that on both sides.  ALL of my family laughs first then says "Oh. Are you OK?"  Stairs seem to be the biggest source of laughter for us.  Mainly because we are attempting to fall down as many as we possibly can in our lifetimes.  It's FUNNY!

I am caffeinated and ready to pack for tomorrow.  Off to play, to do business, see old friends, check out the space for what looks to be a terrific evening in May for my art and to dip my big toe into the textile business.  All of this whilst my light keeps reading "low tire pressure".

I just spent an hour and a half on the phone with dealerships, service warranty people, and jackasses.  But, I got it resolved.  Sometimes you just need to nudge someone towards actually WANTING to find out the information for someone.  Amazing that one.

The conversation went something like this.  "I don't see you in our computers at all.  Sorry. Can't help you. Call the dealership."   "Well, *#@!, why don't you give me the dealership's number since I'm sitting in a carpool line?"  "I'm uh. I don't".  "You are at a computer. Look it up. Internet's pretty good with those things"  then I get the dealership and it goes like this "well, you didn't buy it from our dealership and uh, well, I can't see you until next week."  "Oh..I see. Well, Matt, I will be driving from here to Atlanta, back to Chattanooga, back to Atlanta, to Columbus, back up to Atlanta and then back to Nashville.  I won't be returning until Wednesday. My CHILD will be in the car with me, I apparently don't show up in the service agreement computer and my pressure light is on.  What might you suggest?"

I won't relay the rest, as I might incriminate the guilty.  Suffice it to say, I am now in the computer and I will be getting my oil changed and the tire looked at tomorrow.  Lovely.  I wish I could have had MY pressure taken during all of this.  Maybe not.

But the 'pressure' is still on.  The pressure to do well, to have a good show, to make this textiles thing work, to create more, to donate to the Art de Moore auction, to illustrate 2 of someone else's books and mine AND to see the printing guru.  It's a lot of pressure...... AND I'm hanging it all out there like a bare butt to the wind.

My body is reacting pretty well, although yesterday, after having a scrumptious lunch with my beautiful French friend for her birthday and picking up the children, I simply crashed.  Dead to the world.

I am still losing weight, eating well, need more cucumber water.  The orange water didn't make me happy yesterday. Maybe it was the decadent dessert I had with lunch.  It was worth a weeks' worth of calories.  Some rum chocolate mousse at Firefly's.  I adore that place.  Love the atmosphere; eclectic, arty, funky like me, but their food is just delicious.

But today I'm driven.  Lots to do. Love deadlines.  They are like rules for other people, to me.  They jerk me into focus.  Rules, on the other hand, sort make me want to go the wrong way..... Or had you not noticed.

 My soul has been uplifted by the outpour of good feedback I'm getting about all these endeavors.   And contrary to some of my family members' ideas, one of my great friends said today "Everything about you is spiritual.  How could anyone think otherwise?"  We were just talking about the miracles of every day life that are around us and that all I SEE sometimes is the beauty around me.  Some people just don't.  They need black and white. Rules.  Sinner/Saint.  And when  your life is that rigid, for me, you don't see the everyday beauty in the gift of homemade soup or a bunny hopping across the street or a smile from a complete stranger.  You miss out on so much.

Maybe we should all have 'pressure' gauges.  That way we could see, both in ourselves and others, just where we are at that very moment.  Are we open for the road; pot holes and all or are we slowly leaking or just plain flat?

Intertwined branches/long conversations

Have you ever noticed when you look at a group of trees, whether leafless or not, their branches look so beautifully intertwined?  Like long conversations between them all.  You really can't see where one begins and one ends.  And when they are full of leaves, their secrets are tucked into them.  You can't see the birds, the nests, both abandoned and newly created.  Nor can you see the thousands of bugs, caterpillars, and the occasional shoe.   


My life is like that right now.  Each project I have, most especially the art, is a leafless tree of sorts and it's intertwined with the others.  How can they not be?  But to look at it from a distance they look like one room filled with canvases; none of them distinct.  And I'm having to dart from one to the next like those squirrels in the snow this weekend. They skitter.  I can't think of a better word for it.  That's how I'm feeling right now.  Skittered. Textiles, now book, now art show, now editing, now hurting friends, now doctors appointments, now relationships, now children with hot fires, red cheeks and fast sleds.  But I do have a smile on my face.  Is that what separates us from the squirrels?  Smiles and hopefully brain size?  


Body
So excellent news this week.  My heart, my cholesterol (both good and bad), my lipids, my whatever are all in excellent shape!  All blood work came back outstanding.  The nurse on the phone was astounded that I wasn't on any medication... I smiled a wry smile and said "Well, none for that".  


GO me! All that good food, fresh ingredients, non-processed crap and I must bow down to the cucumber water have paid off.

There is only one number that is considered normal but low and it has something to do with exercising.  On the old exercise note.  I tried to 'ski' down my back porch this morning while taking the dogs out in my robe and slippers.  I think I know why they are called SLIPPERS now!  Because every single muscle in my body was tense does that count as exercise? AND I held on to the dogs, who were eager to bolt as if in the Iditarod. After that beautiful moment of humility, I swept the back porch of all snow and ice.  You know, so my CHILDREN don't fall down. Wink Wink. I think I get extra points for that one.  


Art
Skittered but productive.  I keep dreaming of the textile designs.  The big meeting is a week from tomorrow.  Lots to work on but I am crossing fingers, toes, and whatever else I can get my hands on.  Working on color combinations. This could be endless.


I finished the background of another painting last night right at midnight.  And I didn't even turn into a pumpkin.  It's Kiev. I chose it because my husband and one of our best friends went last September. 


All of my paintings are over-layed with nature; flowers, branches, leaves and I'm just now figuring this out.  I have a HUGE squirrel brain. 

The next one of Kiev I won't paint over.  I think I will give it as a gift to our friend.  I know he's seen Kiev 9 million times, but sometimes a fresh perspective gives you a new insight on all things. He is a brilliant, kind, funny, deeply caring person who needs to be given something back other than my fabulous gourmet meals. 
See... branches.


And the books.  Well, I've researched my bunnies and poppies but I've also thought about including one of my favorite artists/people I know to work with me.  She does multi-media. Gorgeous pieces that are woven through with such intimacy and insight. I don't know how or if this will work but the worst thing that could happen is we both get inspired to do other things.  Branches...


Ruth's books are sitting there quietly talking to me.  I can't quite decide on my background for one of them.  I think a library trip is in order.  


Soul

This should say music. I painted for hours last night and of course am listening to it right now.  I had a friend who said something along the lines of "I think I could define where I was in each part of my life by listening to music".  Brilliant.  I completely agreed.  Music is such an integral part of my life.  I have different types for different moods or intentions.  If I want to be paint, inspired, put to sleep, feel completely at ease, sing as loud as my lungs will allow, laugh, smile, reflect, cry, I will put my music on.  And I love Pandora.  It is fantastic! It has introduced me to musicians that I probably never would have been exposed to.


That's where the soul seeps into the conversation.  It is in each stroke of the brush, each part of the conversation, each daily action.  It is in the cereal you eat, the wine you drink, the smile you give the grocery check out gal. 


We are one big forest of trees; intertwined branches and long conversations.  


If you listen to David Gray, Ray Lamontagne, Amos Lee, Bob Marley, Damien Rice, Emmy Lou Harris, Frank Sinatra, Donavon Frankenreiter, Michael Franti, Tracy Chapman, Patty Griffin, Ryan Adams and Ladysmith Black Mombazo all in one night, like I did, you can't help but feel connected in on long conversation.  


And finally, something I came up with as we awoke to 4" of snow that quickly turned in to 6".   

Peaceful white snow continues to fall as if all those snowflakes are the wishes we've been making.....

                                              

         

The Earth Goes 'Round the Sun

I remember when Julia was in Montessori pre-K and on their birthday's the parents would come to class, all the kids in their 'room' would sit in a circle and they would place this globe in the center.  Then the birthday person would walk around it as they sang "The Earth goes round the sun, the earth goes round the sun, high ho dedario, and then Julia was ONE". They would continue this until they got to the actual age of the person walking in the circle.   I loved that!  Then it dawned on me how many circles it would take me and I would either throw up or dizzy myself right into the globe.  "And then Mommy was gone"... Makes me laugh just imagining that. 

Birthday's have always been a big deal in my house.  I LOVE birthdays! The cake with fresh flowers (yes, the girls actually asked me if they were real roses and gerbera daisies on Emma's cheesecake), picking up the gift, now the goody bags are getting goofier (pop rock candy, the gooey spray in a can, mardi gras masks and glow bracelets for the skating rink) and the sleep overs.  I never believed in the 'rent the damn pony' parties like my children were invited to. Never quite got into the 'rent a Cinderella carriage at the club' either.  It's the one day I DO let my children eat whatever they want.  Breakfast, lunch and dinner.  If I had eaten what Emma ate (sausage biscuit for breakfast, chicken fingers and mac & cheese for lunch with a tiaramisu dessert, pizza for dinner with her cheesecake) I would have instantly gained 50 pounds and I think arteries would have clogged immediately therefore sending me straight into the cheesecake.  Alas, I am not 11 though.  


Which brings me to my body.  I am not 11.  I am not 22.  I am not even 33.  I am 42.  I remember my Grandmother telling me when I was about 13 that inside she felt the exact same as I did, it was the outside that was having trouble keeping up.  Brilliant woman! Sweet Gramma.  She was my step-mother's Mom.  She lived with us in the house in Lexington, something so few people get to enjoy now.  I want to be her when I grow up. I watched Spanglish last night and realized that the Grandmother part, reminded me so much of her.  Smiling, laughing, always something funny and good to say.  She would pat your hand and DING it's 5:00 o'clock.  It's Scotch time. She died peacefully in her sleep at 85. 


OK back to the body thing.  I'm walking but not 'hoofing it'.  My friend Lisa said it best yesterday "I am the worst. If I can't find the ipod or I don't have any water or if it looks like it might rain, I won't go to the gym".  Well, I don't go to the gym. I walk in the hood here. Which, I do love.  But I realized that although I might be satisfied with what's going on everywhere else in my life, my body is not one of those areas. 


I'm not sagging like a raisin or anything. And I did get excited & was SO complimented when they carded me at Harris Teeter,  until I realized it was THE LAW.  Not a good moment.  But a needed one.  I DO feel the same on the inside that I did when I was 20, but my body is trying to rebel against me a little bit right now and I'm getting pretty pissed about it.  Can't sleep one minute, so exhausted the next I can't keep my eyes open. Not really hungry very much, but it appears if I went 1 calorie over 20 per day, I would be the size of a barn.  Now, who's gene pool did that one come from?!  And no, it's not THE change.  I checked. 

I want to kick box again.  I want to hit that bag HARD!  I want to almost run.  I want I want I want.  I know, the wambulance is coming.  And I read my MORE magazine last night; the one for women over 40.  It is funny and  uplifting and cheeky but seriously the women are airbrushed. So what's the point of that?  Be happy with your airbrushed self.  The girls' pictures even come with that 'option' now.  They can give them whiter teeth and smooth out acne.  Are you serious?!  
Apparently they are.  

My eldest has been having body issues for the past year.  She is the shortest in her class but gorgeous! And she hates that she has curves.  She's not the stick straight skinny jeans type, unlike most of her friends.  There are obese kids out there, but they don't seem to congregate around my children.  So, arguments ensue about what looks best on her body in the dressing room nearly every time for a few months there.  And I remember being there!  I remember what it was like to be the non stick child. I got boobs before ANY body in my class did.  I don't want to go too far down that path, but let's just say I had breast reduction surgery 16 years ago because of the trauma that put me through.  No kidding.  


So, I get it.  I tell my daughter that every time she tries to say "You don't understand" because I DO!  The names people called me in 7th grade were horrific.  Which, in turn, gave me a very very sharp tongue.  Took me a long time to drop that one.  It still pops out every once in a while, but only when it's absolutely necessary.  Promise. Good not evil uses.  


While I was sleeping Julia crawled into bed and said "Mommy you really are beautiful. I don't know why you worry about your weight. You're not fat."  I opened my eyes and said "Back at 'cha kiddo".  She smiled and said "I'll try" and I said "I will too".  


I don't want to give my children body issues.  I've tried very hard not to even step into that realm.  But what message am I sending them when I'm not happy with my body?  What am I saying to them?  They are gorgeous! No kidding, gorgeous.  Stop in your tracks gorgeous. Both as babies and now young ladies.  
I don't want them to get hung up on boobs, butts and botox.  I don't do Botox, by the way.  Have had no plastic anything inserted, injected or slathered on me.  


I have figured out one huge reason why I am a bit more paranoid than usual.  It's my friends.  They are all very thin, beautiful women. And several are younger than I am.  Most of them don't have children and/or are divorced.  But the ones that are married with children are thin too. I mean skinny thin.  I don't think ONE of my close, close friends is larger than a size 6.  That's half the average size woman. HAH.  Kidding.  


So my intention with this is to snap out of it! Jeeezusah.  I'm tired of even thinking about it.  I had a dream that I 'found' a check for $20,000 and sat there weighing whether I should use it for plastic surgery or pay off part of the house. Didn't come to any conclusions before I woke up.  


What does that say about me?  No wait. Don't answer that.  

Every day I need to work on getting the image of a skinny, tiny, wee bity person out of my head.  And hopefully that will help my daughter as well.  


This too shall pass.  This too shall pass.  

Thought I was dipping a toe in but....

Do you remember when you were a kid and it was the first day you could actually swim?  Whether it was your first trip of the season to the lake or the first official day the pool opened, or maybe even your neighbor's pool?


I would literally pray for the first day the pool opened.  During February or early March, I would some times resort to scooting my 'tanning' chair as far in the sun on our tiny porch as humanly possible, just  to feel the warmth of the sun on my skin.  We lived in apartments, way up on the side of a huge hill that looked down directly at the pool.  So I would stare at it with a longing that still is a part of my soul.  


Finally!  The day arrives, it sunny, 'broiling' hot, which was probably 60 and I was dying to jump in that pool.   I would walk all the way down the million track ties to get down there, lay everything on my chair, look up at the sun, get warm enough to have just a hint of hot and walk over to the edge.  I would put my toe in and it would turn blue.  FFFFFreezing cold water.  You remember.  And as you stand there mustering up your courage to walk down the nice little concrete steps to slowly take in this suicide, someone inevitably pushes you in.  

Every cell in your body is trying to flee. Not one little part of your body is happy about this sudden ice bath.  And when you come up for air you make the sound of someone who has been under for nearly a minute.  Mouth gapping like a bass, eyes as wide as a deer in headlights.  


Secretly though,  you're happy it's over.  You're relieved that someone made the decision for you. Otherwise, it would have been an excruciating exercise in how to freeze your body up to your waist, run back out and try again for God knows how long. Are you getting the metaphor here for trying something new?  I'm a crafty one, eh?


That is how I feel at this very moment in my life.  I was sticking my toe into the pond here and have been hurled into a shockingly cold and exciting world.  Having NO idea what pushed me into and being so grateful and scared at the same time.  

The book(s), the show, the textiles, it's all coming at me with the same force.  I just hope it doesn't pull me under.... not to worry.  I am a very strong swimmer.  Ask my kids. 


This is all making my body react as well.  I'm walking (with friends, just in case I pull the face first) 5 days a week and haven't had a flippy floppy in my heart in three days! Woo Hoo!  And I'm sleeping.  Really sleeping.  I put my lovely sleepy cd on (I've gone back to the Classics. No, not REO Speedwagon, but Mozart, Chopin, Vivaldi) have lots of warm and toasty covers on and knock out.  It's marvelous.  Really, really marvelous.  


And my soul has had some uplifting news of gargantuan proportion; my friend does not have cancer!  I may have said that in the last blog. Sorry, if I did. I'm just grateful beyond expression.


The other part of my soul is a bit shy.  I'm showing my wares here. But it's ok.  It's good to be 'uncomfortable' (love that word now).  

Like Tracy Chapman sings
I want to wake up and know where I'm going/Say I'm ready/Say I'm ready/ where the rivers are overflowing and/I'll be ready.   Go listen.. I've finally figured out how to put links in ,


Tracy Chapman - I'm Ready


So the soul focus today is to organize the Valentine's Day Room In the Inn.  I've signed up for all of it except for transportation and the overnight.  Dinner, washing sheets/towels, bagged lunches and I'm going to get the kids and their classmates to make cards for these men.  And throw in some chocolate! 


For me, I love valentine's because it's GIVING.  Who doesn't need to feel loved?  But I especially like helping someone feel loved, important, cared for, noticed.  Someone who doesn't even know your name.  THAT is love.  

Like I was saying to Ruth yesterday, "giving and loving are something you innately want to do, but watching by example and practicing are what make it a reality".  Ruth is my book writer, my friend, my sparkly eye that knows better..... She is a good gal and I am thrilled to be on this journey with her.


Ok Ok Now for the food part.  I've been a slacker about that. 
We had chicken fricassee night before last with our very good friends, the Rockey's.  Tonight we will be having salmon with a ginger/orange napa cabbage and tomorrow night a bit of steak with this yummy mushroom risotto that looks incredible. Have never made it... Mwaaahhaaahaa. Now, THAT'S the Joy of Cooking! 

Monitoring

Aren't we all being monitored in some way?  Isn't this little exercise of mine 'monitoring' my progress or lack there of in 3 areas of my life?  Don't we monitor the lights being on or how much we eat or who our children are being influenced by?  Don't we all monitor, hopefully and sometimes very unsuccessfully, our brain to mouth connections?

Body - 4 hours in a Cardiologist's suit is not my idea of fun.  However, Stacy Davis comforts me in so many ways that I did it without complaint.  She reminds me of my friend Christina 'from california' in her mannerisms, her smile, her work ethic, her endearing geekiness, her laughter, and even her height.  My La Petite Napolean (that's what I called her in France because she was exceptionally talented at directing us in the right direction).   There she is in France with my God Daughter this past Summer.  Julia, my eldest spent two and a half weeks there (I got 7 glorious days/3 in Paris)
Back to Dr. Stacy.  She is one talented lady and I know A LOT of doctors, personally.  In fact, way too personally it would seem.    

She has me on a lovely heart monitor for a month. And I'm not talking about the goofy watch thing that you get at Walmart. I'm talking about the sticky things that attached by super glue that you hook things into with wires and I have what looks like a very bad pager hooked to the top of my pants.   I get to squeeze this button if I am having any wonkiness in my chest, which is what started all of this.  I understand dogs and cats don't like this sound. Now I know why. I've heard it. It would give a grown man a tic.

 I'm looking forward to setting it off when my neighbors cat tries to pee on my car again.  I shall have my camera in hand too.  HAHAHAAH.  Sorry. I hate that cat.  I hope it loses one of it's nine lives.   I also think it would come in handy at the grocery store when a child pulls one of the 'freak out, lay on the floor, scream so loud it will peel wallpaper and the parents are ignoring the entire thing.  Just push the button.  I feel an evil power coming with this.

Also found out you can't get it wet or guess what?!  It will shock you. ZZZZAP!  No, really?  I might have to wear super absorbent clothing while drinking my red wine or around my friends that drink red wine.  If you see me and I look a bit puffy up top, it's the 4 layers of shirts I have on with wicking.  I'm not getting fat.

Art - I've sketched out the newest painting and have it at the ready to paint.  Both children are at various basketball games and Jim has to work, so I am listening to gorgeous classical guitar, drinking ginger water and about to let all my emotions flow onto the canvas.  Or as Jeff says "the slaughtering of the sheep".  He still can't get over my first painting.  He really feels it looked a bit morbid.  I say "that tells me more about YOU than me."

The news about the Columbus show has inspired me so.  I can't wait.  But I want another one in the interim.  Greedy gal that I am.  It's the monitor...making me a bit.... more.....e v i l.  I threw the more in there for those of you who know me.

Getting together with my children's book author on Tuesday!  And my textiles manufacturing lady on Thursday.

And lastly about Art, it is my redhead's birthday this coming Friday.  She will be 11.  ELEVEN!  My petite enfant.  My little one. My snuggly buggly.  Look at her!  That was from Kindergarten.  It was actually the first picture I took with our new camera.  I'm going to paint some more on her walls as a gift along with the camera she so desperately wants.  Nothing fancy pants but digital.  Some would say that's a weird gift, but hey! I believe you should give what you know, not what you can necessarily purchase.

Soul - Well, it's better.  It's tired. It's sore. It's better.  Haven't told the parents yet about the heart situation.  Found out my grandmother fell and broke her arm (she is 94) and is now in rehab. Not AA rehab, but you get the picture.  And my brother in law sent my Dad an email asking for days to get together with the kids to discuss him and my step mother along with their health.  Now that Haiti has been hit so hard, I have a feeling that it will be a while.  He has worked with Haiti for YEARS with Food for the Poor. It breaks my heart for those souls there.

And not to give kuddos to the news agencies, but my father knows those people.  They truly are full of hope when all else is literally crumbling around them.  When they are putting dirt in their 'stew' for supper. They have a beautiful peace about them that my father says you can just feel.  So when I saw them singing in the rubble, while looking for the dead, the injured, the lost, I cried.

There too adds to the hope.  I will be 'monitoring' their heartache from afar, but it effects me none the less.

Equal and Opposite Reactions

It's been nearly a week since I last blogged.  I have been on an extended 'trip' where time nor a computer were my friends.

I have awakened from a 3 hour nap where I truly believe if the house were ablaze, I would not have survived.  I am literally spent.  All three of my 'subjects' (no, not people) of this blog are so intertwined and intermingled that I
think I'll just throw it all in one big heap.

You've heard or used all these expressions yourself
yin/yang
calm before the storm
the valley before the peak
opposite ends of the spectrum
this too shall pass

All of these 'expressions' have happened during the last few days.  Bi-polar type ups and downs.  What began as a quick trip to look into selling art to textiles and/or print companies ended up being a marathon on my body, mind, soul and art.

I feel like I'm watching my heart/soul split in front of me and I can't stitch it together fast enough.  One side is ecstatic, the other is hurting horribly.  And all at the same time within hours of each other.  Is this what I get for wanting to be a more practiced, contemplative person?  Hmm?

Well here goes.  Hope you don't throw up from the ride.

Did some excellent research at ADAC.  Don't ask me what the E-I-E-I-O means.  It's changed and frankly, I don't care.  But the gist is that it is a haven for 'design professionals', non-professionals are not allowed in the building.   I think they are afraid you might actually decorate or design something yourself! EEEK!

Downside:  Forgot my driver's license so had to pull strings to get in,  MAJOR problem!!! (my string is my professional  husband).  Marital perk there.

Upside:  I sat not 3 feet away from Greg Norman during a quick bowl of soup in the cafe before running into him in one of the textile places.  Sorry. No Chrissy to be seen.  But he is a handsome man.

Downside:  One of the resources I was REALLY wanting to see has since closed.

Upside:  Excellent research and a new prospective relationship with outdoor furniture textiles.

Next I went to the Gift Mart to talk to the people that buy your art work to sell to people like Pottery Barn and Target.

Upside:  Not sure there was one.  I haven't been aware of so much tacky crap that people obviously not only produce but buy since I was a buyer for my gift store 13 years ago.  FUGLY stuff.  I mean, you wouldn't re-gift this to Goodwill, kind of stuff.  And people were standing there with their pens out ordering it.....I nearly ran but thought better of it. I would forget where I parked my car.

Downside:  The 'people' left a day earlier. Either they were so impressed they left  early or they were so DEpressed they left early.  All I could do was laugh.

Upside:  I have a contact in my backyard who went there to buy artwork. I'm going directly to him this time.

After this extraordinarily frustrating day, I came home to find a HUGE UPSIDE!!!!  It appears my art will be the featured art a Symphony fundraiser in Columbus, GA this May.  I asked Kate, who lives in Columbus and is heading this event, if they would think we were gay if I kissed her and her reply was "Of course. We're in Columbus"  HA!  Very very very big high.

But of course I had to go to bed that night realizing that the next day not only was one of my oldest friends having her surgery that could possibly tell her she has cancer (she is my age) but my best friend was having to go to court regarding her divorce.  Both things were awful.  Standing there waiting for the train to hit both of my friends with not a thing in the world I could/can do for either.  Helplessness is not one of my favorite feelings.  I abhor it.

I didn't get one minute's sleep.  Tossed and turned, flipped and flopped, much like my emotions.  We awoke before the sun came up, which I usually say is "before God is awake".  Can you tell I am NOT a morning person?

Side note.  I love Thai food. I used to cook it so much that my husband begged me to finally stop.  Sort of like the Bob Marley CD I played when we first dated.  Anyway, so to spoil myself,  I had Thai food two nights in a row.  Heavenly Thai food.  And yes this is on the eve of court.   And no, of course I did not even take into consideration what my body would do with all that spice with stress thrown in there.  Now I know why the Thai people are so skinny.  The food doesn't have a CHANCE to be absorbed into  your body!  I realized this on the WAY to court.  Nothing like a little more stress.

So I spend the day on a hard bench, surrounding by people with hard hearts making hard decisions.  My friend being one of them.  Beautiful, funny, brilliant and reduced to bickering for 3 solid hours over $500 a month.  Her soon to be ex's attorney, let's call him Napolean, puffing around and making odd faces but I don't think I heard a coherent sentence out of his mouth in 8 hours.  I have never contemplating wearing orange more.  (Orange is the color of jumpsuit Tennessee has for it's inmates, just in case you didn't get that. I didn't mean I wanted to be a UT fan).

All the while I can't get to a phone to find out about my other friend's surgery and I get a text that my red head is sick.  Are  you with me now on these pendulum swings?

After  many tears, much anger and then getting the joy of listening to one of the most pathetic excuses of a human being address the court about why he didn't need a restraining order (even though we heard lovely tapes of him threatening to kill his wife and he is a retired police officer), we got to do our diddy and leave.  Shew. I needed a fire hose to clean off all the bad feelings that were sticking to me.  That and the three parking tickets I had waving to me on my marshmallow.  Just waving.  "Hi, Stacey". "Nope. You're not finished yet".  That's when I decided we should go to the Ritz Carlton in Buckhead and drink a glass of champagne.  BRILLIANT idea, if I do say so myself.

That's just what we did.  I love the Ritz Carlton.  I've stayed there twice in my life.  One of the best times ever in my life was with my Mother. That's another story.  A hilarious one.  But this was just a tiny layover in the cushy sofa's with the soft light, beautiful chandeliers and perfectly chilled champagne and kind people to smile and serve us.  We had missed high tea, so it was perfect for the 5 o'clock cocktail hour.

It really changed our moods.  That and two glasses of champagne with only rice for lunch.  But who cares! We were able to step away from all that ugliness into a world of beauty.  We were able to laugh too.  And then the funniest, kindest two older Irishmen sat down and we had a delightful conversation.  They were so happy!  Their day had started at 6 am too, but in a jet flying to Chicago and back.  It was one of the gentlemen's birthday's.  THEY were having a ball that day.   And they were as good of friends to each other as we were.

We talked about travel, what in the world they were doing in Atlanta, how long they had been friends, their race cars (yes, they race cars), anything to keep the happy bubble from bursting.  It surrounded us with warmth and happiness and we went home with smiles on our faces.  I slept like a rock then awoke again before God and drove home.  I took a picture of the sunrise (blood orange red), listened to David Gray  (Shine) , Ben Harper (With My Own Two Hands), and any one else I could get my hands on that was uplifting.  Thank God for people who sing their souls out.  What a powerful gift. I am grateful.

When I parked my car in the driveway my redhead came outside (freezing arse cold) to get some loving. Doesn't get much better than that.  But it did!  My husband had cleaned the entire house down to the last load of laundry.

Maybe that's why a heart beat looks the way it does; spikes of up and down.  It just can't hold it all in at the same time.

Enjoy the lyrics to Ben's song.

I can change the world 
With my own two hands 
Make a better place 
With my own two hands 
Make a kinder place 
With my own two hands 
With my own 
With my own two hands 
I can make peace on earth 
With my own two hands 
I can clean up the earth 
With my own two hands 
I can reach out to you 
With my own two hands 
With my own 
With my own two hands 
I'm gonna make it a brighter place 
I'm gonna make it a safer place 
I'm gonna help the human race 
With my own 
With my own two hands 
I can hold you 
With my own two hands 
I can comfort you 
With my own two hands 
But you got to use 
Use your own two hands 
Use your own 
Use your own two hands 
With our own 
With our own two hands 
With my own 
With my own two hand

Tides, Easels, and GOOP

ART:  Did you hear it yesterday afternoon?   Around 4? The giddy jumping up and down and "WOOO HOOO" reaching to all corners of the Earth?  The National Football Championship game wasn't on yet.  It was ME!
I set my easel up!!!! With instructions in Italian even and I didn't have any left over pieces. HA!  It felt like Christmas when the girls were tiny, except they could watch and I actually did it correctly without having to hand it off to Jim.   I am so PROUD of myself.  It is set up in my office with a brand spankin' new canvas and all this gorgeous natural light.  Once I get off of here, I am sketching the background.

A mere 3 hours from now I also have my textiles meeting.  She seems charming and my brilliant friend will be with us, so let's see what path this opens up. Shall we?

BODY:  I know I mentioned earlier that I am drinking more water.  I am truly surprised that I could even  go to the bathroom because I was so PARCHED.  I'm loving mixing up the cucumber, clementines, lemons, whatever.  And I'm drinking much more and       have lost some weight because of it.

I also have noticed that I'm just not as hungry right now. I'm eating 2 meals a day on average. Good ones. And my proportions are smaller.  I'm also drinking more tea.   Green tea,  cranberry zinger, ginger tea, peppermint, you name it.  It's very yummy for the body and soul.  And no, I am not spiking it.     Yet....

Both daughters love tea, but Julia gets the expert label. She loves it probably more than I do.

All of this is grand but I got a great email from Ashley (think Gone with the wind and say it like a Suthernor  "Ashluh" except, she's a woman) about GOOP.  Looks like snot and comes in several different colors.  The blog is about 'cleansing' but shows you how to make the famous GOOP.  I know 'cleansing' has been done for centuries and goes in and out of fashion with the health people, but I'm sincerely considering doing it for 4-5 days.  Not necessarily all of the GOOP, but some version of it.  Throw some thoughts my way.  And castor oil will NOT be considered.  

I like the idea of cleansing.  We have cleansing breaths when we do yoga, cleansing breaths when we pray, we have spring cleaning, we have the phrase 'cleaning house' which could mean a plethora of things.  So, I like the idea of cleansing. Maybe that's what all this is (blog). Cleansing my little brain of it's random thoughts, throwing them out there and kapoof! It's all clean again.  I'm sorry. What did you say?  Who are you?

SOUL-
This section is rather the train driver, I've decided.  Found out some news yesterday that one of my oldest friends (who's known me since something like 6th grade) might have esophageal cancer.  She has a teenage boy, I bow down to her, and she is a single mother.  She is one of the hardest 'working' people I've ever known.  She works on relationships, works on herself, works on her house, works her fingers to the bone at her jobs.  She has always been like this.  Puts us all to shame, really.  She even ran track!

So now, she needs her friends and family to WORK for HER.  She is not in the same city I live in and I haven't seen her hysterical self in a little over a year (it was about 10 before that) but every time we pick up the phone, not a day has gone by.  I can say that about a handful of great friends that I've had a very long time and all of them live in different states from me.  I am truly blessed with them in my life.  She is one of them.  If I had a problem and asked her to come, she would be here.  Just like that.  Which makes my heart break that this 'thing' is even a blip on her screen.  By that I mean, going to the hospital, having surgery and taking care of her house , son and dog, shouldn't be a concern.  All of her friends right there in her home town should be stepping up.  I think part of the issue is asking for help.

She doesn't ask for help often, if ever.  What I said to her yesterday is something my Dad told me a LOOOOONG time ago.  When you ask for help, you are giving someone the opportunity to give something to you.  It's a gift for them as much as it is for you.  Amen.  That was a tough one for me to learn as well, but it finally sank in.  I am trying to help coordinate things from here to help her and may end up taking a quick 3 hour road trip for a few days if things aren't as smooth as they should be.

The point of this long drawn out blather is the gift of giving and receiving.  Not of 'stuff' but time, compassion, food, sleep, a stocked grocery when you're too sick to go, a walk of the dog.  It's all a gift.

FOOD:  Made another batch of the POO2U2 cookies, this time paying attention.  They turned out rather well.  Still  ugly, but yummy.  And then I made my OWN recipe of oats, honey, ginger and cranberry cookies and they rock!  And they don't even look like poop. Now, that's a success.

On a final note, Roll Tide!  National Football Champions of the World!!!!  hahah Great game last night.  I was connected to in the following ways; grew up in Birmingham, so I can't count how many of my high school friends went to University of Alabama, two of my dearest friends did their undergrad at UofA but SHE grew up in Texas and finally, my "Christina from California" lives in South Pasadena.  It's the ONLY time in my life, after Bear Bryant died, that I cheered for Alabama.  Same goes for my husband.  Who fell asleep during the last 10 minutes (the most exciting part of the game).

Snow dances and horse blinders

Let's start with the SOUL.  I don't know where you live, but here in Nashville, TN we have what's called the "Mad Dash for Milk/Bread".  This phenomenon happens when the weather people even hint that snow MIGHT be somewhere within a 50 miles radius.  Normal human beings literally get up from their couches, work chairs or coffee shops and make a mad dash to ANY store for all the milk and bread they can possibly haul in their vehicles and wait.  For "the big one".  By that, I mean the big ONE INCH of snow that will accumulate on the wayward side of your house.

Every child learns the spoon under your pillow, ice cubes down the toilet and wear your pajamas backwards to bed.  I'm not sure if there are any snow bunny sacrifices, but I am sure it's next.  My children actually came up with a 'snow dance' last night.  It was quite lovely, the creativity of it. They even got white scarves and hurled them around while dancing like they do at the pow wow's.  Very Cherokee of them.  Don't knock it. I found out I'm 1/16.

I really believe that the grocery stores are the puppeteers behind this.  I think they already prep the milk farmers and then 'leak' it to someone in the news that the snow is thinking about coming.  Now, I have been in Nashville for 18 years and I can personally tell you that God himself, with a mouth full of snow could be sitting literally on top of Nashville and he would blow it north, south, east or west,  just not here.  We've had plenty of ICE, a few good snows, but NOT "a BIG ONE".

Rather than being dismayed by this, however, I have discovered the hope in all of this.  I know the definition of insanity is "continuing to do the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome".  So Nashville must be the wacko capital of the universe and I proudly call it home.  But, the HOPE we have.  We can nearly feel it, see it, smell it, BEG for it again and again.  We stock up, for God's sake.  Half of Nashville is probably lactose intolerant but by golly we have MILK!  We could survive a storm of epic proportions.  I guess with bread pudding?  But here we are, so hopeful. So elated when anything white comes out of the sky.  ANYTHING.

I had a grand idea of buying all the flour at the grocery store, throwing it all over our yard, putting horse blinders on my kids and taking them outside.  I'm thinking this might be the answer in the end.

It has given me a soft spot for insane people now.  So think of something you really have wanted to do, to see, travel to, read about, seen pictures of and never really gotten to it.  It's the wonderfulness of the hope, to me, that allows us to get up again and again and still continue to love whatever that 'it' is.

As Gabe Dixon appropriately sings "All Will Be Well".
One of the lines from his lyrics goes like this

All will be well
Even after all the promises you've broken to yourself
All will be well
You can ask me how, but only time will tell.


Brilliant

Give him a try.  He sounds like a very young Billy Joel.  Even plays a mean piano and of course writes his own songs.  Yes, he's here from Nashville and he might even have a mantel set up with snow items, but what he really has is one helluva talent and hope.

The reason hope is so important to me right now is because I have so many people around me suffering and all in different ways; emotionally, spiritually, physically, occupationally, marriage wise.  So when the snow didn't come, it made me look out my frosty window a little bit differently.  I want to give them hope. I want to show them the hope all around them.  I want to inject it into them with a syringe.  But the non-snow did it for me.  And please don't think I am this freakily smiling person with doe eyes who talks like a tri-delt and named her tea cup poodle Polly.   I am far from it.

ART- I still haven't gotten my easel set up.  And it's pissing me off.   It's even speaking to me in my dreams.  Last night I had a dream that I was putting the easel up and it fell over, a broken leg.  So after this, I am setting that sucker  up.  I think I shall name it.  I name my cars (The Blue Crayon, The Episcobus, and now The Marshmallow) too.  I haven't gone off the deep end. I don't name my silverware.

I have sketched out the paintings in my sketch book. Looky there. They named it a sketch book! HA
Anyway, I don't care if the big one comes, I'm sketching today on those canvases.

Also, as I said before, HUGE day tomorrow.  Hope does spring eternal.

Body - I have a sneaky suspicion that I will be sledding with my children  one way or another. I'm even thinking of putting olive oil on the bottom of their sleds and going down the big STREET.  Now that's not insanity, it's called persistence!  And walking the dogs whilst trying not to kill myself is definitely exercise.

Food - Last night's white turkey chili was excellent! I've made this for about 10 years now, usually right after thanksgiving.  It's even better the next day.  I EVEN made a small pot of vegetarian for my Julia.  When she is in therapy in her twenties, please remind her of what a kind and GIVING mother I was.

Haven't tried to re-do the poop cookies.  Sarah graciously informed me that she has newly named them POOKIES.  HAH! She is masterful, that one.  So I guess mine will be called POO2U2.

And tonight, it's left over Chili or Thai shrimp/coconut soup with jasmine rice.  I'll let them decide since we will all be in different parts of Nashvegas Friday evening.