AdaLamar's Blog

A Sassy Girls Guide to a Life of Wanderlust

Pain into Power

Posted by adalamar on September 17, 2014

I think you need to go through some stuff to really appreciate life and understand what it means to persevere, overcome and have faith. I think those tough times make you a stronger person.Judith Hill

We all go through hard times, struggles that push us to our limits and test what we are made of. Events that break our hearts, make us weary and so so tired. As we struggle to make things right in our lives, with jobs, love, family, friends, love and over and over.

What keeps us going, what drives us to succeed anyway? I truly don’t know. I think sometimes it’s just sheer determination. Finding your voice, your strength and refusing to give up even when it’s easier. Digging your heels in, being stubborn and simply refusing to be beaten.

Oh, no one told us life would get this hard. Cinderella never lived in these times. Turned inward is bitterness and anger. But turned out, you can use it to rise above, to reach deep down inside and pull yourself up with the strength of steel.

Harness the power of the pain and use it to grow, to succeed, to make it and finally to explode and light the world on fire with your strength and passion. Let the naysayers watch as you light up the path for them to follow, if they are brave enough.

But it’s hard when you’ve been fighting for so long. But that is what makes us great, our Will, our ingenuity, and the power of the human spirit to persevere, despite the odds. We just need to tap into it just a little bit longer.

And that is the key, I think. Is knowing, deep down, where even the light not dare go , to that place that is only yours and God’s. And you know, deep down there, that it truly does not matter where you come from, or how long or high the struggle. Because it is only temporary. It won’t be like this 10 years from now, five years from now, one year from now, even one month from now.

And you can persevere. Forget the odds, don’t listen to what all of them are saying. You listen to your gut, to God, and you trust in yourself and in Faith. And you know that you have a steel frame, a steel heart that beats strength into your body.

And you take it one day at a time, on baby step at a time. And soon you will be able to look back and see how far, how many, many miles you have walked. How you turned that pain into power. One step, one heartbeat at a time.

And that is how a superhero learns to fly.

A hero is an ordinary individual who finds the strength to persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles.Christopher Reeve

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Protected: As The Mold Turns

Posted by adalamar on September 16, 2014

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The Spa Between

Posted by adalamar on September 8, 2014

Often times we need to step away, take pause, take time to enjoy and slow down. This past weekend was a slow down Dow me, time to take space, thoughts, plan and breathe. So much to do in the life Iive, that getting away for the weekend was a wonderful gift.

After getting lost on the way there, (because getting lost is just what I do), sleep the the wonderful, huge luxurious bed came easy.

and in the wonderful morning, it was time to enjoy a delicious breakfast followed by a day of pampering and relaxation. But it was toe about more than that, it about reclaiming peace that had been lost in the flurry of life. As the fingertips of the therapist massaged my body, my mind started making lists of things to be done upon my return. And I had to listen very closely to the voice that said let go and just breath.

Aand I’m the space between breaths, in the time between prayers and words spoken secretly, silently, only to God, was the Origen of Peace.

And so went the weekend…a thousand little perfect moments, suspended perfections, I found my breath. And I sat, listening to the birds, Nd the crickets and the frogs Nd the water. Laughed, cried, was held, and ate and drank.

And it is these moments that we should hang onto in times of trouble. After all, if we are struggling to find moments to feel joy, the. Start out small.

I do have to remind myself of this even now as I examine so many bongs out my life, what to do and which direction to go.

As I figure and research, discuss and strategies. Big decision to make and I cant help but wonder, is a the work worth it In The end? Or should I walk away for  a simpler life in the mountains?

I cannot answer, I do not know. But what I do knowis that time away, a spa away, gives us the space between to figure it out. Just take the time to slow down and breath. It will come to you,

 

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Of Guts and Grace

Posted by adalamar on August 28, 2014

We all have those family members that are just forces of nature. They can move mountains by sheer will – that and the mountain not dare to disobey. This is my mother. . She has always been feisty (I come by it naturally) always spirited, always determined. And she will argue with you all night long that she is not stubborn.

Be beat stage 4+  ovarian cancer, many times when the doctors expected her not to make it she surprised them.  Once even leaving messages for them that if they did not come and get her out of the “dying ward” of the hospital, she would walk out herself  because she was going home. Who can argue with that? She had a team of doctors in her room shortly after leaving the message.

And yes, she still smokes, thankyouverymuch. Yes, she knows it’s bad for her, especially after she survived such late stage cancer, but she did survive, she old, she enjoys smoking and she is going to do it.

And once again she has surprised me.  After hearing the news that she was not in good health and doctors were not optimistic, she is, once again, just fine. I have often said she will outlive us all, cigarette in hand. And after this I am nore4 convinced than ever. And even though she will swear she is not stubborn at all, I am very thankful for it in her, because I have no doubt has been a combination of unwavering Faith and simply determination that has seen her through.

My mother: Pure Guts and Grace.

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The Beauty in Boredom

Posted by adalamar on August 25, 2014

I read an article on Psychology today that talked about boredom, it’s definition and affects. Oddly enough I had the definition all wrong. Boredom to me had always been just a feeling of having nothing to do, nothing around that was interesting. And that is it in part, but in the article it is defined as a state of listlessness or torpor (new word) that is related to melancholy. A deeply unpleasant state of “unmet arousal.”

To me that sounds more like being restless…having all that energy and having no where to place it. That place where you want to do something, anything, but not knowing what or being able.  We usually try to avoid boredom because it is unpleasant.  I remember being a child and complaining about being bored during summer vacation because there we nothing to do, to which my mother quickly replied “bored people are boring.” Or “intelligent people are rarely bored.”

At first these statements seem like a witty response, but maybe there is more truth to them than wit. Boredom is part of the human condition. Never has a single person on earth never experienced boredom.  So why fight it? Why not find the good in it and use it. Just how would that happen? We try to avoid boredom by way of stimulation. But there is a difference between stimulation and …….Why not instead, peer inside ourselves to cure boredom? Instead of going outside of a situation to find stimulation, like a video game, why not be present in the moment?

Get out of your phone, your game, or little world and look around a bit. Notice who and what is around you instead. Notice the air around you, notice all the little things that you would normally gloss over in your search for everything to strike your nerves at once. Embrace the non stimulation, the slow down, the peace and quiet in the boredom. But this can be a dangerous thing. Sometimes the tranquility of the quiet can make ones demons or unsorted baggage come to the surface. Go ahead and deal with them, and all, you’re bored right? What else do you have to do?

Once we look inside, once we become present and notice the world around us, magically the boredom disappears. So take a deep breath and embrace the boredom. As counterintuitive as it may sound, by the very act of embracing boredom we no longer suffer from it. We can take the time to look inside and begin to let go of what is holding us back. Ultimately that will bring us Peace and I have often said that which gives us Peace also gives us happiness.

Samuel Johnson once said, “It is by studying the little things that we attain the art of having as little misery, and as much happiness, as possible.”

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Summer Slow Down

Posted by adalamar on August 20, 2014

As the last leg of summer starts to wind down, I look forward to the coming season, but nor before enjoying the rest of what summer has to offer. Right now kids are back in school, daylight still lasts until pretty late, evenings are still warm with gentle breezes and the days are still hot enough to enjoy the pool.

It should be a time of slowing down, yet for me it is not.  Yes, I will take my time to complete the tasks at hand, but there is still much to do. In addition to the work on the house, which I have been told by other homeowners will never be completely complete, there are books to read, movies to watch, meals to cook, wine to drink, and memories to make. There are thoughts to be written and recorded, songs that I want to listen to, loud. And my piano that needs to be picked up, played; touching, caressing the keys for the first time in over 20 years, sitting in my home. That sweet piano, where if I listen close enough, I will hear my heartbeat.

I want to take road trips with the windows down, radio up, hair in the wind…maybe even barefoot. There are trails to be hiked, picnics to eat and sunshine to enjoy.  I also want to start prayer meditation to help discover inner Peace and Grace. Then there is all the exercise…running again, Pilates and weights and boxing. Pushing my body and my goals beyond.

There is the beautiful house which I need to make a home. A home has soul, and that takes time, moments, thoughts and love. To have friends and family over, learn how to cook on the grill. I wonder how many things I will burn?

With all these things to do as the summer turns and the season starts to change, I am not going out much these days. Something that a friend recently made mention of – that is not the Ada he knew.  But my life is not out there, it is in here, this place, my circle of friends, the loves of my life. It is in finding curiosity and wonder. It is in trusting others and my search.

So in these last days of summer, I smile as the sun sets and a breeze blows the hair across my sun kissed cheek. A life is always under construction, our stories are always being written, we are always seeking, reaching and defining. And I close my eyes and jump in.

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The Need Trap

Posted by adalamar on August 7, 2014

No, you can’t always get what you want

No, you can’t always get what you want

No, you can’t always get what you want

But if you try sometime, you just might find

You get what you need.

I think it might just be a trap. It happens when we listen to our needs instead of our head. When we know something may not be the best thing, but we need it. Or we think that because we need it, it is the best choice. We are taught to follow our needs. We are, after all, human beings. We Need. It could be a job – we need the money, but we are not happy. Maybe it’s the need for friendship or companionship that’s leads us down the path to the wrong people and the wrong relationships.  Maybe the need for a cheap car that makes us buy one that is unsafe or is breaking down all the time.

The fact is that just because we need, does not mean we should follow. So how do we know the difference from what we need and what is best or even just good for us? I don’t know.  Everyone assumes that getting what you need is better than just getting what you want. But is that really the case? I don’t know that answer to that question either.

I have only said I needed someone twice in my life. And neither time it worked out. And I can’t help but wonder what if I never needed them at all?

Need exposes vulnerabilities. When we are vulnerable, we don’t always make the best decisions or choices.  Because we fulfill the need based on our vulnerable nature. And I was so vulnerable. I needed a partner and a companion. I needed friendship. And I needed love. So I went with that need and instead now have the opposite, which is not what I needed at all. And maybe had I thought about it more with my head, instead of leading with my needs, I would have made the wiser decision.

The fact is that I am very vulnerable these days. And that vulnerability scares me, because what if my choices are made on the needs of those vulnerabilities? What happens if what I need does not materialize? Or when those vulnerabilities are no longer? Or when those whom I need, no longer need me?  If I am vulnerable, I will believe the promises made to me instead of approaching them with caution. It is human nature to pursue what is needed to be fulfilled.

So maybe the secret is to take a step back and think with our heads.  Make sure our needs are on solid ground and not quicksand.

If what you need doesn’t come to fruition, then what’s wrong with just going after what you want? Or is it better to pursue no needs at all and be somewhat of an island, letting the waves of life wash upon you, but never joining the sea?

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I Believe

Posted by adalamar on August 5, 2014

I believe in love (most of the time). I believe faith and hard work can overcome anything, and what they won’t overcome, love will. I believe right always wins over evil (eventually) and men should stand up for what they believe in. I believe in hope, I believe in Astrology, I believe in back rubs. I believe in copious amounts of premarital sex, and I believe you should enjoy it. I also believe you should be very picky about who you share such activities with, as what you do cannot be undone. I believe in getting drunk every now and that it’s good for the soul. I believe in being loyal to your friends and your enemies. I believe in long passionate kisses and conversations that last all night. I believe in passion and dignity, honor and integrity. And I believe if people who said they believed in those things practiced them a lot more the world would be a better place. I believe the Shawshank Redemption is a great movie about the human spirit, and yes, I do believe Andy was innocent. I believe in moonlight and slow dancing. And I believe in karma.

I believe in smoking every now and then, and drinking brandy often. I believe in laughing every day and singing at the top of your lungs. I believe sexy has nothing to do with your looks and more to do with what’s inside you. I believe scars make us more beautiful and flaws make us endearing. I believe in the word Capricious. I believe in following your passion, where ever takes you. I believe in baseball and the power of family. I believe it takes more than a village, but it starts with the parents. I believe a man is only as good as his word, and his handshake is his bond. I believe in cussing when you are mad and saying I love you only when you mean it.

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Life is Real. Messy

Posted by adalamar on August 4, 2014

Life is messy. We have to, in our lifetime, deal with betrayal, lies, heartache, and false friends. But in the end, those that try to harm us and hurt us only make us stronger. Better. And they hate that. The best revenge truly is simply being happy and living a fabulous life. And when you move on, happy and confident, it is your life returned to you. And each time we feel pain, we feel it a little deeper in our soul, until we are the beautiful, complex works of art we were meant to be. But life must carve out those deep spaces in us first.

When I was 19 I read a book called the Prophet. Amazing book. It changed my life. In it was the passage that said:

“But if in your fear you would seek only love’s peace and love’s pleasure, Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love’s threshing-floor, Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.”

I decided right then and there, at the tender age of 19, that I would live a life that was full, full of love, sorrow, joy, tears, laughter and much, much more. I decided that I would make my life the great epic novel it could be. I have soared above the clouds and crashed below the ocean. I have made mistakes and paid dearly for them. And I would do it all over agian. Because in the end, everyone, those who like me and those who do not, will never be able to deny that I lived and loved with my whole heart.

But this life wears you out sometimes, wounds you, gives you scars. They heal, yes, but scars they leave just the same. And then we wake up, all tattered and torn, and wonder about our lives and get very introspective. I wonder if the choice I made to live life to the fullest, both the good and the bad, was the right choice? Then I read the following quote from a book titled Kisses from Katie:

I was like the Velveteen Rabbit. I was tattered and worn out. I’d been hurt and scarred and banged around a bit in the past year, but God was using all those things to help me become real. I was coming to understand that what it means to be real is to love and be loved until there is nothing left. And when there is nothing left, and we feel we’re all in pieces, God begins to make us whole. He makes us real.

These words spoke to my heart and soul. And I realized that only in living life to the fullest, can we truly honor God’s plan for us.  Only in experiencing and loving till there is nothing left, can we honor the life we are meant to live.  The desire to live a meaningful life of purpose is universal. It is in our bones, our blood, our humanity. We strive.

Because in this life, what really matters? It is not the big house or expensive things, though they may give us enjoyment. But they are not real. What is real is loving, playing, working, kissing, living, with all your heart. Those we hurt us show us who we are supposed to be, and give us the life we are supposed to have. They help us reach the heights we only would have imagined.  So I thank all those who helped make me real.

 

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What is Real Repost

Posted by adalamar on August 4, 2014

“What is REAL?” asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. “Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?””Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.”

“Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.”Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. “When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.”  “Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,” he asked, “or bit by bit?”

“It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse. “You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.” – The Velveteen Rabbit

“What is real?” asked the Rabbit.  One of my favorite questions of one of my favorite stories.  And a very good question.  In this day and age of bigger is better, plastic rules and superficial is best…does Real exist?  Yes, At least I think so. To me to be real means our experiences have made us deep enough people to understand what is truly important in life.

The problem, I think, is that by the time we are real, we have lived, been loved, unloved, hurt and roughed up to the point where we are a bit shabby.  We’re not new and shiny any more.  Sometimes we feel that we have lost our worth – after all, how could anyone love a worn out little rabbit? And someone may have to look past all the roughness to see what real really means.

I think it means that you have a real heart, you have been through enough to know, through experience, what is right, wrong and in between.  Living through those experiences teaches us compassion, empathy, how to love and so much more.  It makes us a better, deeper person.

What about the shabby parts?  Well, I guess that depends on your definition of shabby.  To me it’s nothing on the outside.  It’s a heart that is so closed it can no longer let love and light in.  Maybe we all get a little shabby…but just like the Skin Horse said, you can only be ugly to those who do not understand.

So, the key is to find someone who can see through our shabbyness, our weary-ness to see the beauty of our Realness.  Someone that can love us anyway.  But being shabby and a little worn is ok. I have often said that it is our scars and flaws that make us our most human, most beautiful…and most Real.

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Balancing Needs

Posted by adalamar on August 4, 2014

A requested Re-post:

We all have needs. Things we need from others in our life. When we are in a relationship, part of the problem is communicating what you need. That has never been my problem. I am very good at communicating what I need.

The trick is finding someone who you can tell your needs to and have them met. Men always say they want a girl who tells them what they (the girl) need, a girl who will be assertive and not make the man guess what is wrong. I don’t think men know what they want, because I am that kind of girl and it only causes problems. And I guess it will continue to cause problems until I find that man who is the right fit. You, that mysterious “One” people talk about.

For that man who is a fit, he will gain a wonderful partner. Someone who will always be there for them, but it must be reciprocated. I think some guys get lazy when they are spoiled, and then when the girl needs something, they get upset. – Well she hasn’t needed anything before? She hasn’t required anything but me saying thank you for cooking, cleaning, and everything else-ing, why do I have do anything more now? Where is this coming from? Why is she being so unreasonable? I just need some space….

But the man who is the right one for me, will gladly step up and support me as much as I have them. It will be a true partnership, one where there is give and take. And I don’t think it is ever fair to say 50/50, because life doesn’t happen 50/50. Life happens all kinds of ways and most of the time one person will give 70% the other 30%, then the next time it may be 20/80, then the next time 60/40…but it all balances.

The problem happens when the one who has given 70% suddenly can only give 20%…and the other who is used to receiving that 70%, is not ready to give 80% in return. Confused yet? Yes math, and relationships, do that to a lot of people. But that is what being a partner means, picking up the slack when the other cannot do that 50%, and the other picking up your slack when you cannot do your share either. It should balance out.

And if a person is brave enough to say what they need, brave enough to trust and be vulnerable, to say they cannot do it all themselves and need a partner, and that partner bails….Then was the bailing party ever a partner to begin with? Probably not. But if that partner steps up, then hold onto them, because they are a rare jem indeed.

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A Step Away

Posted by adalamar on July 14, 2014

Sometimes it is good to just take a few steps away. And many times it really doesn’t matter where, it could be a walk in a park, a trip to get away, or sometimes just a car ride and a bit of exploring. That is what is was for me today. I have been here about 4  months, and between work and family, I have not had the opportunity to just step away for a bit. Sometimes we just need to get out of the house and away for a break. I have been writing, job hunting, cleaning, getting the HVAC, roof and pool taken care of and the four walls were about to close in on me. SO when the invitation came up to get out of the house, drive around and explore the area a but came up, I jumped on it.

Amazing how much a little break can have an affect on you. It was a simple ride, just down the main road with all the “stuff.” We drove into every little strip mall, all the stores, all the restaurants to check them out and see what was in the neighborhood. Great places, mom and pop shops and then there was the antique place.

I love this little antique place, except it’s not so little. Full of strange things from old times and far off places, eclectic findings, new smells and fabulous fabrics. I found a ton of things that I wanted to buy, so many ideas for decorating the house. Nice, fun, super feminine pictures to hang in the very masculine master bath. A panel to slide over and be the door for the bedroom downstairs, some pillows for the couch, great chairs for the master screened in porch, some great towels and some paintings.

And as I was walking through the wonderful mix of strange items, I realized that there is life outside of the house, outside of the family, outside of the HVAC, outside of the leaky roof, outside of the jog hunt.

And there was a spring in  my step as walked out.

Sometimes we just need to step away to remember there is life outside of our immediate struggles. So take time to step away.

 

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Time and a House

Posted by adalamar on July 12, 2014

It seems I have had a bit of writers block recently. Though when I look around there should be plenty to write about – the new house, relationship happenings, looking for a job, visits from my parents, Mom and Dad’s health, visiting an older sister. It’s not that there is nothing about which to write, just rather things have been so crazy and so busy, it is hard to get it out of my head and onto paper…or screen.

Yes life has been a bit of a DIY-Dramedy-AcMysterfan-Raventure (trying to do things myself, drama, comedy, mystery action and adventure). Yes, the past few months have had it all.  But mostly, it’s had the house.

Yes,, I am not sure if other first time home buyers wonder what they have gotten themselves into, but that is definitely the case here. There is the HVAC, the leaky roof, the closet shelves, the green pool, the bad toilet handle, the leaning dishwasher, the step, the ice maker attach-thingy (yes, that is the actual scientific name), the skylights…and I think that’s it. And there is me. And the boyfriend and my parents.

And everyone says that is just what it is like when you own your won home. I swear it should come with instructions. A warning label. Because even when you read all the books, articles, blogs and such…you are never really prepared for all that is owning your won first home. And all that is required.

My life is a series of sitcom moments as I try to get the dishwasher to stop leaning or re-attach the toilet handle that keeps falling off. Or the part of the roof that is leaking. Again.

And then I smile. Because all these little (or big) house issues are, at the very least, mine. Because it comes with owning your own home. And no matter what, I have a home. That is safe. That is secure. That is loving, and beautiful, and strange, and eclectic, and mine. A place to build memories and laughs, and moments, and tears, and smiles, and days and nights. A place to build a life.

And in the end, our lives are always a little “under construction” because we are never truly done. We should always be learning, living, doing, seeking, finding and experiencing. That is how we grow.

And at the end of this, I should have learned a great deal about home  improvements, with many clumsy sitcom moments and stories to tell. And I’ll have many repairmen on speed dial.

 

 

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A Way to Give Back

Posted by adalamar on July 10, 2014

I have always said that no matter what, you should always give back. No matter where we are, what we do, who we are or how much or how little we make, there is always a way to give back. I was raised with this belief and was surprised to hear it again at a formal holiday dinner party for a bank  worked for several years ago. I was surprised to it because of the man who was giving the speech at the dinner – no other than Jerry Springer. Yes THE Jerry Springer.

The bank headquarters were in Cincinnati, OH, where Springer was at one point the mayor and a practicing attorney before that. Then he was fired as mayor after the paid a “Lady” with a city check. I know that because he actually told the story right before he talked about why we should always give back.

This past week I helped a friend with an animal rescue fund raiser. Giving back and volunteering is often not very easy, and this was no exception. The fundraiser was an all night adopt-a-thon what started 5pm and went until 6pm the next day. We all arrived, got the animals situated, grilled hot dogs and then attempted to sleep. We had sleeping bags and inflatable mattresses in one of the temporary buildings set up around the event.

The next day was a brutal 97, hot and sunny. I think we all thought we might melt. But, we washed dogs to raise money, so we did get to cool off a bit.  It wasn’t glamorous, it wasn’t easy, it wasn’t always fun. But it was for a good cause and a good friend.

The bottom line is  that there is always a way to help out, always a way to give back. And it doesn’t have to be a non profit agency. It can be helping out a neighbor by watching her kids while she goes on a job interview. Or encouraging someone who has had a bad day, making a cake and delivering it to someone who is sick, or who doesn’t get many visitors. It can be many things. Just give back and make a difference.

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The Carved Out Heart

Posted by adalamar on June 28, 2014

“The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that hold your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter’s oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?”

I once read this and it made an impression. After a particularly bad break up, my mother also explained it to me. She said that when you fall in love and it doesn’t work out, it hurts and burns your soul. And each time you get hurt, and it carves out a little bit more of your soul.  And each time you hurn, you hurt a little deeper and a little deeper. And each time you love, because of how deep your soul and heart have been carved out, you love a little deeper each time too. And so is the cycle. My mother is a very wise woman.

And the past few years have been so very hard with so very much pain and betrayal. And now when I love, my soul and heart have been carved clean by the pain, and all that is left is deep, and pure, and all of it.  Yes, at the end of the carved out heart, is the all of it.

And because of the all of it, I can love my family, my friends, my lovers, with so much more than I ever could before. And while I wold never want to go through the past few years again, I realized that all that pain and emotion was not in vain. It was simply burning out the impurities.

Of course you really cannot see that, when you are in the middle of the thick of it, knee deep, heart sick and soul troubled. But then the fog clears, and the sun peaks out. And you realize that life isn’t over, it hasn’t killed you and you can go on. But the heart must be carved out first.

 

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The Trip

Posted by adalamar on June 28, 2014

Everyone has those great trips, where memories are made, where there is laughter, thoughts, wine and good times. I went to Washington DC recently to visit one of my older sisters. It had been a long time since we really spoke and talked of things, of both little and great importance. We have not been overly close, though I do suspect a mutual curiosity. It was the perfect time.

Friday was delicious home made dinner followed by wine and conversation and the family dinner table.  Saturday was venturing into the city, seeing the monuments. Jefferson was my favorite, though the Vietnam Wall had the biggest affect on me.  To actually see that many names, to take your finger and touch the wall, touch the names of the young men, was very powerful. Lincoln and FDR Memorials were my favorites too.  The history of these monuments, and that of these men, and of this country. They truly loved and believed in this country, something that is surely lacking now.

There was the jump on and off buses, the Zen of the FDR and why it is her favorite. There was the Capital Building and the National Archives. There were different people walking, laughing and touristing, just like us, though my sister lives in the area. She made sure that I read the history and saw cool things, that she herself had seen many times. She was patient with me, as I looked around, wide-eyed and reading so many of the quotes and inscriptions. She was just like a big sister. And it was very nice.

Next was the Smithsonian Museum of Space and Air. And again she was so patient as I looked and read everything.  She had been there too many times to count, because that is where everyone wants to go, including me.  Her favorite was the Natural History Museum (hope I have that right). I wanted to go not only to see space suits and things like the space shuttle (which is not actually there, but they do have pieces of it), but to see part of what our father worked on so many years ago when he lived in DC. He worked on ballistic Missiles called Nike-Zeus, Atlas and a few other things. They really didn’t have much there that he worked on, but it was very interesting to see the things that he might have worked on, things his friends might have worked on.  The day came to a close over a funny movie and Chinese take out.

We went to church the next morning, something I needed, my should needed and my heart needed. Going to church together was a quietly sweet experience.

And I left with so much than with what I came. In addition to great conversations about life, love, family, faith, God, new experiences that are coming, some recipes and instructions for prayer and meditation, I left with wonderful memories and  a new appreciation for someone I am so glad I had the chance and took the time to get to know better. My only regret is that I did not make the trip sooner.

In this day and age of bigger, better, faster and the flashier the better, we cannot forget to spend time with family. To take the time to build relationships, to talk about things that that matter and to not forget from where we came, and what we have in common.

When I talked to my Dad about going, his face lit up and talked about how much this trip meant to him too. What we do has an affect on those around us. When we operate with love, love is returned to us, and to all those around.  When we operate in fear and lies, the same is returned and damages all those who come in contact. Treat your family well, with care, with love and with tender handling. Because they are the only family you have.

 

 

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The Eve

Posted by adalamar on June 28, 2014

It is this night, this eve, this moment in time, after which my life will not ever be the same. And on this is eve, there is excitement, fear, happiness and calm. There are lists of things that need to be done, and the desire to just relax and enjoy the fireflies.

It is this eve that marks a new time, a new chapter and new life going forward.  It is an eve to treasure each. and. every. moment. Because this is the last eve that everything will be the same.

And after this eve, I will look back at tonight, and all those that came before, and be thankful for it all, the good and the bad.

And so it, on this eve.

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This Father’s Day

Posted by adalamar on June 17, 2014

aDA PICTRURI wrote this about my Dad several years ago. It describes how I see him and the man he is. Every Father’s Day I post it on several sights. It’s a few days late this year, things were busy and I did not make it to the computer to post.

He is doing much better now, My father. He is feeling good, more energy than he has had a quite a while, and is in very good spirits. He was s out working quite a bit this weekend, enjoying being with his family, laughing, kissing Mom and the cheek, saying those funny one liners with his incredible dry sense of humor. So here is my Father’s Day tribute to my Dad:

My Dad is like one of those men from the old movies.  The hero.  A man of few words rides into town, stands up for what he believes in, and touches everyone around him.

He leads by example:  Loyalty, honesty and spirituality.  Always keep your word.  Hold family close and God Closer.

My Dad has worked very hard to make a business and a reputation many would envy.  He’s worked hard to give his family the kind of life and opportunities where we would want for nothing.  He has integrity and honor, and those are not easy qualities to find these days.

He has been a wonderful example of a man, a father and a human being.  From quietly asking mom about our dates to sharing boiled peanuts and beer, to watching thunderstorms and lighting with us.

He has taught me so many things about life, just by example.  And he is the best father a girl could ever hope to have. I have so many wonderful memories of him growing up, and as an adult.  Like him, try to read fairy tails to me and mispronouncing the names – like “Ra-pun-zel”, or reciting the bedtime story of “Once upon a time, a deer drank wine…”

Then the is “Piddles Jumping Spunker” and Chief Beer Fetcher in Charge (CBFC), can’t forget being the Cowstail, or all the lessons on the bottom shelf.

He taught me how to change the oil in my car, how to rotate my own tires, change the break pads and calipers, check the spark plugs (when cars actually had spark plugs). I remember going out to dinner with him, and how he opened my doors for me, pulled out my chair, found out what I wanted to eat and ordered for me. Always wanting to make sure that I was happy.

I will always love his voice, his hands, the way he smells and his little smile. Yes, I will always love my Daddy. The first man to make me feel safe and secure, the man who has always been the example of how a man should treat a woman, and how I should expect a man to treat me.

And he gave me the best Christmas present I have ever been given. One he hand made a wonderful case for my Barbie Dolls, complete with a little mirror for them, a place to hang all their little clothes, and he even hand made these little wire hangers for all their clothes to hang. I still have it and it is one of my most cherished possessions.

For these and so many reasons, too many to list, I am proud to call Jim Burch my Dad.  If I could have looked out and chosen who my father would be, I would have chosen you.

Love you Dad.  Happy Father’s Day.

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When a Klutz Mows the Lawn

Posted by adalamar on June 13, 2014

There is nothing quite like experiencing life as a Klutz. Take it from me, nicknamed The Pinktank since I was a child. Life is a series of missed steps, wrong-in, bad outs, embarrassing moments, almost disasters, slippery treads, delightful trips, spills and fumbles…and that’s just for starters.

For much of my adulthood, I have been banned from using my  parents riding lawn mower. It’s much like my eternal ban from snow-skiing – there are just certain things which in which a klutz should never partake.

So a few weeks ago when I was at my parents house, helping out because my father was so sick, the idea of me mowing the lawn came up. And it was passed that yes, at the tender age of 41, I would finally be allowe3d to used that elusive riding lawn mower. As my father shgowe3d me how to use it, where the gears where, what they did and when to shift, I was almost giddy I was so excited.

And then, it was time. My father handed me the keys, smiled a half wistful, half OMG-I-hope-she-does-drive-this-thing-iunto-the-water look.  And as I climbed up on the powerful machine, I felt like an adult. I turned the ignition and felt the horse power. this was going to be fun.

And indeed it was.   That little lawn mower could go, fast. I remember watching the TV show Home Improvement with Tim Allen. There was one episode where he and his Tool Time co-host did some kind of race with riding lawn mowers. I did not understand how this could be fun or exciting until I got on one  myself. And it was full throttle. I was zipping around the yard, mowing the long over grown grass, having a blast. I was doing donuts around the trees and loving it.

And then.

And then something happened. I thought I left enough space, but I didn’t. I felt a jar as it happened, then I turned around to see it. And t here is was…the water pump I had just run over, water spewing out of it about a foot or so high. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I just sat there, lawn mower running, for just a moment, staring at the water pouring out of the broken pipe.

Crap. (not the word used) I ran over the water pump. I will never live this down.

I ran in  and got my Dad, his immediate question of “what did you do??” ringing in my ears.

“Well, at least I didn’t drive it  into the water,” I said, smiling sheepishly.

And hour and a half later, with the help of my wonderful father and amazing boyfriend, the water pump was fixed. We had to turn of the water to the  house – during the hottest part of the day – saw both ends of the broken pipe to make sure it was a smooth “Break”, get new piping, put glue-stuff on it, and attach it to the old piping. Piece of cake. Thank goodness my dad was around to tell us how to do it.

And that is what happens when a klutz mows the lawn.

I did gt back up on the mower and finished the yard, without incident. I went slow and did no more donuts around the trees…but man it was worth it, having all that fun. And sometimes you just have to have fun anyway, live a little, enjoy the moment and do donuts around the tress and such. Make a fool of yourself, laugh out load and just say the heck with the rules. Just make sure you don;t run over the water pump in the process!

I can hear you laughing.

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Fireflies Dance

Posted by adalamar on June 12, 2014

In adulthood, there are very few things that are still magic, that still capture our imagination and remind us of childhood and the time when you could still fly to the moon on your bike.  One of those things for me are fireflies. Since I was a child, these magic little bugs seemed to come from the mythic places of legends; where dragons, fairies and mermaids lived. They were left over from king Author’s gardens, somewhere between Narnia and Neverland, and everywhere magic and mystery lived.

And yet here they were, these fireflies, in the yard flashing their magic beauty.  Yes I was fascinated by them as a child.

I remember the first time I really saw them. I was at my grandmother’s house and maybe about six or seven. And they were everywhere, hundreds of them.  My grandmother asked if I wanted to capture them in a jar, but I decided not to after find thing out that they would die if kept in the jar. I wanted them free, out in the fresh air.

When I lived in Ohio many years ago, I would see them in the woods next to the apartment complex  where I lived. My then boyfriend and I would sit on the fence, watching them dance in the evening air, like little diamonds flashing on the horizon when it finally got dark.

And just a few nights ago. I saw a tiny flash out of the corner of my eye. My heart skipped a beat – it is the right time of the year…I stopped what I was doing and ran to the back yard window. And there they were, dancing and sparkling in the night sky. A little army of fireflies, my little army of magic. And I had to stand and watch them, as they performed their nightly ritual, with a grin on my face from ear to ear.

It’s truly the little things in life. And you must always take the time to stop and notice, listen and see. For the little things are what makes life worth it, what makes the bad bearable and the good even better.

And now every night, I take the time to notice these little miracles, that seem to dance just for me, putting on  a private show in my back yard.  And just for a few moments, I am taken away from all the troubles and thoughts. And I just smile. If these little bugs can light up the night sky, certainly I can raise above and shine bright as well.

 

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Storms With My Dad

Posted by adalamar on May 20, 2014

When I was a child, my father and I would sit outside during storms and watch the lightning. We always had covered back or front porches, always lived in the country, so you could see the sky for miles. And we would sit out there, sometimes for an hour or more, and watch the lightning dance across the sky. The air would crackle with the electricity of the storms and I would be thrilled to see the beauty play out before my eyes.

Maybe that is from where my life of storms comes, or my desire to capture lightning on film. Because it’s like capturing those memories, as I think of my father every time I see lightning in a storm. And I remember feeling so very special as we sat and watched, my father and I.

It’s these wonderful precious memories I have of my Dad that often make me smile.  I have always been a Daddy’s Girl, and will always be. While my Dad is sick and recovering, it is these memories that somewhat ease the pain I feel.

Never underestimate the  memories someone may have of you. Sometimes the simplest of things will be the best of memories for those you love and who love you. And When I pray at night, for his quick recovery from this last chemo treatment, so many memories come to mind. Indeed, I am a lucky girl.

My Dad, a good storm and two chairs. Yes, that’s the good stuff.

And I am lucky enough to have found a man that my father respects.  That means the world to me. And to my  heart.

 

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Of Firsts

Posted by adalamar on May 9, 2014

In our life we all have a lists of firsts – first dates, first kisses, first job…this next month is going to be about several firsts for me. This weekend, my parents are coming up for their first visit to see my first house. Next month I am going to have my first visit with one of my sisters that I am getting to know (I am the youngest of five) and in about a month, there will be some first moments with someone very special who has re-entered into my life.

The great things about firsts is that they exciting. Filled with promise, hope and excitement of the unknown. My Mom and I have been talking and planning this first visit since I first moved into the house. We have so much do together in this new place. She has a green thumb and she is bringing plants and flowers to help me with my gardens and figuring out the landscape of my first yard. There are many conversations to be had, much wine and coffee to drink together.

And I can’t wait for Dad to see my new place. I have a to do list all set up of small projects we can do together while he is here; connecting the water line to the refrigerator, putting up shelves and such. I love working with my Dad. We used to work on small projects with my car, like changing out the break pads. But this is different, this is the first time we will be able to work on projects for my house. There is something wonderful about that, to have those memories of working with him. It’s part of what will make this house a home.

Family means so much to me, and with everything imploding with my closest sister and my parents health not being that good, I released that there were other members of my family that I want to know. The visit with one of my oldest sisters is beyond exciting and there are few words to express the emotions attached. There is so much curiosity and I only wish there was more time to get to know her. I wonder why I waited so long. I should have done this a lot sooner.

And then there is Love. There is another chance, a new chance with someone trusted, known and who knows me, down to my bones. So many years, and yet, the core is still the same. The first time at a second chance. And when we are in the same space, there is a sense of calm, a sense of comfort, a place where I can relax. And in my head I hear what so many have said for years: “There is no need to look. You already know him. He is already there.” I have often said when so many say the same thing, chances are it is true.

And so it is, this season of firsts. As the days get hotter and longer, the air is thick with the promise of the unknown and to move into this season with my parents, sibling and loved one is truly amazing. I knew that 2014 would be a new year of new things, and that the wheels would starting turning once I got into the new house. And indeed all the love I wanted in my life is here and all the dreams are coming to fruition. There is Peace, there is happines, there is a great life right in front of me.

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This Old House

Posted by adalamar on May 5, 2014

Everyone has that one place for them that is safe, sacred, that is Peace. For me that is my home. In many ways it still has not sunk in that this beautiful place is mine. As I sat on the back porch this past weekend, enjoying the light evening air, hearing the crickets and frogs and leaves rustling in the breeze, I realized how peaceful my home could be. I love my porch time, my house time, my “Me” time. There have been many changes and life events over the past few years. Some have been good, some bad, some sad, some small, others life changing.

And I am making Peace with everything. In the end, life isn’t a popularity contest and doing the right thing often is not the most popular choice. If you have standards, mortals and character, you have to be OK with that. You have to be OK with being lonely sometimes. You have to be OK enough with yourself that you can sit alone on your porch, and enjoy the sights and sounds around.

It helps to be someplace you love. And I love my house, my home.

In the future, I hope my home to be a gathering place for friends and family. I want people to feel as welcome and peaceful as I do, sitting there on my porch, looking out at the yard, watching the birds and haring the crickets. My parents will soon be here, Dad getting further cancer treatment, Mom helping with planting the garden. Friends want to come by to see them again, or meet them for the first time. An invitation will be sent to my sister and her boys, that they are always welcome to visit Mom and Dad when when they stay here. And Peace will remain.

Do I regret any decisions that have been made? No. I do regret having to make them, and I regret that cost. But I can never regret standing up for what is right, I can never regret doing what needs to be done to have a healthy life.

And so I sit on my porch, quiet and still, listening to the life around me. Listening to God. Knowing in my heart, that life is about to burst open with more hope and promise than can be imagined. And it is at this house, on this porch, in this yard, that is all happens. Yes, I have found my home.

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Overwhelmed

Posted by adalamar on April 21, 2014

All of us, as some point, feel overwhelmed.  The To Do list seems to laugh at us, as we feebly try to cross things off. And it grows, and grows, like Kudzu during a hot a wet summer, taking over our lives. Until we release it;s time to get a machete and cut that list back. <Maybe even burn it. Wouldn’t that feel good?

The only way I know to get through being overwhelmed, which is how I have felt since buying the house, is to just put your head down and work through it.  And just like walking a tightrope – don’t look down. Just keep plugging along, don’t worry about how much you have to do, how for you have to go, or what you have already done.

And I have felt oh so over whelmed. Moving into a huge new house, myself. Working like crazy and not having any time to finish unpacking, looking around and mentally going through the ever-growing to do list. Dealing with the leaky skylight and the fact that Friday, water was dripping from the skylight, the ceiling and all down my walls. I just had a moment and just cried as I looked at all the water, though I am pretty sure more was rolling down my cheek than down the wall.

I felt defeated, overwhelmed, and just a mess.

The funny ting is that somehow, the shape of my house seems to reflect how I feel about the shape of my internal self right now. As  my house was/is a mess, so am I. . My house is not fully unpacked, I have trouble finding things, there are boxes everywhere and nothing looks put together. And that pretty much sums up how I have been feeling – very not put together.

A year of not taking care of myself has taken it’s toll, as I try to squeeze into a pair of my favorite jeans. They obviously shrunk in the dryer.

So I took this weekend off to put my house together, to get unpacked, organized, do things like set up my guest bathrooms, finish unpacking my my office, getting the guest rooms set up and cleaning out the garage. To dust, disinfect, sweep and mop…and even to plant a few flowers in the yard. I have politely turned down many invitations so I can get things in order, so I can stop feeling overwhelmed and start feeling put together. And sometimes you just have to do that – take time for regular maintenance and eradicate that To Do list. Sometimes in all the rush duplicity of life, you have to slow down, take a breath and un-overwhelm yourself.

And now, I look at and see that while there is still work to be done,  I will be just fine. The house is slowly getting put together and organized, as am I, deep down in my soul. And deep down, as I lay down to sleep after a full day, my soul feels just a little more at Peace. This Lenten Season has not been as Spiritual as i had wanted, due to working so much and being exhausted. But it’s never too late to pick up where you left off. And no doubt, the rest, putting my head down and working hard, and prayer, and that to do list, both for myself and the house, will be completed before I know it.

 

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Hilliarious Southwest Flight Attendant

Posted by adalamar on April 17, 2014

Flew Southwest when I went out to Vegas. And while the attendants were funny, this lady is hysterical!  Enjoy!

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I am Ready

Posted by adalamar on April 16, 2014

I am ready to remember winter and start spring, new like a green leaf on the tree outside my window. Ready for the yard to be green and the pool water to be blue, for sunscreen and tea, and lazy days on the deck. I want home to be home, happy and carefree, with music, food, wine and laughter.

I am ready for friendships and smiles, fresh air and long walks, midnight conversations, face to face rather than screen to screen. To exhale, and relax, work hard to play, rest and do it again the next day. I want to feel the sun on my face, the breeze on my skin with the windows down and the radio up. Walk barefoot through the grass, my car in the driveway, meet the neighbors and make new friends.
I am ready to be a part of a community, a group, to get to know, grow and share.

I am ready for first dates and kisses, movies and dinners. Ready to try again, blinders off and wade in. Ready for a hand to reach to and take mine, a door to be opened, and smiles given. Ready for p[picnics in the parks, concerts after dark, enjoying the festivals of the Spring and being treated like the lady I have come to be.

I have been dormant this winter, the soul freezing cold. Now it is time for the great thaw, to come alive again, so much to do, feel and hold. The harsh winter is over, finally, the seasons change and I want to embrace the newness of the new. I am ready to be given to, treated well and see the world with unspoiled eyes, optimistic of the future, shedding all the broken and leaving it behind.

I want margaritas on the patio, listening to that song I know, creating memories of this life, this moment in time. Ready to feel  my heart beat again, as life begins a new, ready to feel arms around my waist, and happiness.

I am ready to start my life, with hopefulness, carefulness, optimism and baited breath. I am Springtime ready.

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Thge Last Born

Posted by adalamar on April 13, 2014

While surfing the net, waiting to be able to test out website again, I happened upon an article that talked about how birth order affected your relationships.  I am the youngest of 5 and they got me all wrong in this.

Lastborns: Ah, the little sibs of the family. Beloved, treasured, and in many cases babied for much longer than their older siblings (and often by their older siblings), the stereotypical youngest of the brood tends to be less responsible and more devil-may-care, with less of a hankering to take charge. “That can be different if the baby of the family came after a gap of more than a few years, though,” says Dr. Salmon. In that case, the baby of the family may act more like an only child or an older sibling—as though the family had started all over again.

For the baby of the family, I have a lot of the responsibility…I am more like the oldest.  I have always taken care of my nephews, even paying for my oldest nephews college. I last year I worked and supported all of Rita’s family. My parents also depend on me for a lot. I have never been spoiled, any more than the other kids in the family. My parents were much more strict on my than any of my siblings (I had a curfew and had to tell them everyone I was with, everything that we were doing and everywhere we were going).

Rita (older sister) has always gotten everything (several cars, a house, lots of money, etc) because she always had the kids, so I was pretty much on my own. Whatever it was, I heard “Well, it’s just you, so it’s not as hard, but Rita has a boys, so she needs more.” Which I suppose is true.

I am a risk taker though, but it’s always calculated. Most of the time the risks pay off, but not always. I am a free spirit, but a responsible one (yes, it can happen). I was the first one to get a tattoo, the first one to really move away, I have always been the most independent, always the one who traveled. I have always been the one who spoke my mind, set things right, told the truth and did what needed to be done, regardless of what anyone else thought. Everything I have done, all that I have, I have done it on my own.

All my older siblings come to me when they need to get in touch with the others, they all call me when they need to find out information about what is going on. I often seem to find myself in charge, yet I have no desire to be, as others would be much better at it.

And no one takes care of me, I take care of myself, always have. Sometimes I think it would be nice to have someone take care of me for a bit. But then I quickly banish that thought from my mind.

Moral of the story: Sometimes birth order has nothing to do with it. Sometimes it’s just who you are. And sometimes, who you are cannot be contained, quantified or categorized.

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Thank You Vegas

Posted by adalamar on April 9, 2014

We all have those times were we feel as if we are climbing out of a big dark pit. And we all have that moment where we realize we can finally feel the sun on our faces and have managed to climb out. This recently happened to me, when I took a trip to a place called Las Vegas.

While I can’t really say that I came back rested (it was Vegas after all), but there was much more peace when the plane landed, than when it took off. Sometimes, just having the chance to step away, gain some distance and perspective is the key. Sometimes, just being able to relax and not be surrounded and submerged in all that was is enough to wake us up.

For me it was a combination of all of that, and the company I was with. First, it’s hard not to have a great time in Vegas, it’s just a fun place to be. My friend and I have traveled together before, and we always have a good time together. Even though we had not seen each other in a few years, we seemed to fall into our easy rhythm within a few minutes. There is something very comfortable with him, and he is one of the few people I trust. I feel safe. Maybe it’s his gentle, unassuming way of things.

After the past few months, it was wonderful to just be. To laugh, explore, gamble a bit (am am terrible at gambling, unless it’s with fake money), drink a bit, enjoy some food and people watch. There was a show Cirque De Solie (I know that it’s misspelled and I’ll care after the next cup of coffee), front row seats. You really get to see great detail when sitting that close, and as a stage and theater junkie, I loved it.

Hoover Dam was next and that was fascinating. When you see the enormity of it, of what they did and how they did it, without any of the modern technology, the risks they took and how well done it was, you feel really proud. I felt proud of your country, of the men who worked on it, and the ingenuity and vision it took to make it happen. Wow. And it was just cool. We walked across it, on a beautiful day with clear blue skies. I felt free, for the first time in a long time. If those men could do all of that, then my life can be just as magnificent.

Then there was downtown Vegas, which is different from the Strip. It feels more like a fair than anything else, with the scent of food from the street vendors, people walking around in costume (You take their pictures for tips, lots of people, loud 80’s rock music and a laser light show on the outdoor ceiling. I love the Golden Nugget Casino and the buffet there is quite yummy.

Upon return I felt lighter, albeit tired, but much happier. I just needed a little trip to bring me back to life, so to speak. To remind me that life is to be enjoyed. The past year is over, all those struggles are done, my tasks are complete. Now I move forward building my life, my own Hoover Dam.

Work hard, play harder, love completely, and laugh often. So thank you to my friend, for inviting out to play, thank you Vegas for being such a gracious host and playground, and thank you life.

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Sitcom Moments: Adventures in Travel

Posted by adalamar on April 4, 2014

I have many times said that my is a sitcom. And nothing seems to prove it more than traveling..

Sunday morning I slept a little elate, got up, made coffee, cleaned up and got everything ready for the trip. There were some last minute things to throw into the suitcase, but I was actually 10 minutes ahead of schedule. Until….

The plan was to get gas, catch the Marta train to the airport and head out of town to Vegas. I would have an easy hour to roam around the airport.

Moment #1 – Since I am in the new house, I had to plug the Marta station into the GPS…But it could not find the satellite. Try Google Maps. And Waze. Neither of them worked. Crap. (Not the word I used)…After fiddling with the 3 GPSs (what is the plural of GPS…GPI?) I unpacked my laptop, go back in house, turn on laptop, get address, get and print directions. I grab a cup of ginger ale on the way out (this is important for later). Only 20 minutes behind schedule.

Moment #2 – Go back out to the car, packed up laptop again. It’s beautiful outside, so open the sunroof for the drive…COLD cup of ginger ale that I placed on top of car, is now in my hair, in my lap, on my favorite jeans and green shirt and all over the car. Crap! (not the word I used). Run back inside, change shirt and pants…except everything that currently fits is packed in suitcase. Finally find something. Go back to car. 45 minutes behind schedule.

Moment #3 – Go to gas station, only to see that purse was left at home. Get $6 worth of gas with cash I have in car, go back home, find purse under seat of car where it landed when took out the laptop. Finally leave the house an hour late. Go directly to airport.

Arrive and fly out without incident. Land in Vegas 1.5 hours ahead of my friend and travel partner. After his flight gets in, we spend another hour tracking down his suitcase that arrived on another plane. After getting into hotel, we decide to have a drink in the bar. It’s good to see him after so long and catch up before going to bed.

Moment #4 – Get up to use the bathroom. On the way, I fumble around in the very dark room…and SMACK my nose on the corner of the wall. Crap. (Not the word I used) The noise from the smack is so loud, it wakes up my friend who asks if I am OK. “I’ll tell you in a minute.” Go into bathroom, discover nose is bleeding profusely. Crap! Crap! (not words used). Come out ?? minutes later after bleeding stops. Then upon returning, I cannot stop laughing at how ridiculously humorous the situation is.

The next day I fully expected two black eyes, but thank goodness, all was fine, though my nose was very sore. What is it about me breaking bones while traveling?

Moment #5 – Manage to go the entire day without incident, until walking in botanical gardens filled with cacti…and loose my balance while reading one of the little plagues….fall into a small cactus. Thank goodness there were no spears.

The rest of the trip was great, and will write about that later. Yes, my life is a sitcom. I can hear you laughing…

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The Noble Art of Doing Nothing

Posted by adalamar on March 27, 2014

The To Do list is growing daily. Let’s face it, when you buy a new house, your first home, there are a ton of things to take care of. The screens need to be put on the windows, my ice maker/water thingy needs to be hooked up the refrigerator, the yard needs to be mowed, the pool guy called, the outlight light by the street needs to be fixed, laundry to be washed and folded, vacuuming, mopping, and more unpacking.

Boxes are still in corners and closets, hiding their secret contents. And I look around and notice certain things are missing – those shoes, that brush, the other nik-naks…could they be in the unpacked boxes? Or did that bag/box get placed in the throw away pile when it should have been kept? Hmmmm….

The guest bathroom is not set up yet, the guest bedrooms and still littered with misc items that have yet to be placed. Pictures have yet to be hung.

It can be a little overwhelming with all there is to do. And there is an inner slave drier constantly saying to be “get busy. Rest when you are dead, too much to do now.” But yet everyone else that I know is telling me to rest, take it easy, relax because there is no hurry. I am not going anywhere, I can relax and take my time. My friends are telling that I have been through a lot and to just do nothing for a little while. But when have I ever listened to others?

When they are right, and in this case, I truly think they are. It feels good to relax and recover from the last while. It feels good to do nothing, but just take care of myself- to laugh, dink some wine, love, eat, catch up with friends and paint my nails, take long baths and let the emotions flow out of me, cleansing my soul as they go.

So maybe there is something to this do nothing thing…and while it is not going to last forever, my friends are right. There is no hurry. I am home. HOME. And for the first time in a few years, I can just be. I have no where to go, no one to be, nothing but the gentle sound of my own heartbeat…and the sound of the rain against the skylights, and the light of the moon through the windows. For the first time in a long time, I can breath. Exhale.

And it is lovely. Pass the win,e will you?

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