Let the Fierce within you sleep

Though she be but little, she is fierce. –  Shakespeare

It has been said by many that you must be fierce in order to survive in this day and age.  Indeed, with internet trolls, bullying, rude people, and those who just don’t care, it’s a tough world out there. And indeed, I have had to be fierce as well.  Especially after the passing of my parents.  Dealing with estate issues, family issues, legal issues and financial issues, I was all issued out.  And I had to be assertive to make sure that everything was done correctly, on time and by the right people.

But being fierce will also wear you out.  Because you must constantly be on the lookout, always aware, always “on.” You cannot be fierce all the time, you must be able to relax and enjoy life too. You must be able to be vulnerable, to laugh and smile and have fun as well. You must be able to have compassion and empathy and kindness and grace. The fact of the matter is that there is a season for everything in life, and fierceness cannot last.

With God, you are stronger than your struggles and more fierce than your fears.

And so it is with me.  This is the season, this summer, of relaxing.  Of having fun. Of enjoying fireflies and putting my bare feet up on the dash board while singing at the top of my lungs. It is planting 130+ day lilies from my mother’s garden.  It is enjoying the smell of the honey suckle and watching the humming birds at the feeder. It is spending time with sick friends, talking softly over fears and memories. It is walking in the woods, being in nature and breathing deeply.  It is live music, and many concerts that I will be attending this summer.

The mountains, the forest, and the sea, render men savage; they develop the fierce, but yet do not destroy the human. – Victor Hugo

When you are strong, you do not need to wear that strength and fierceness on your sleeve, you do not need to advertise it or make sure that others see it.  It is there, when you need it.  And whether or not it is seen is not your concern. Your concern is to be happy, and to love life. You concern is to live the life you intended, the life you will be happy with in your last moments, will as few regrets as possible.  Your concern is to smile at the sun and howl at the moon, to run with the starts and sing with the wind.

I don’t always feel fierce and fearless, but I do feel like I’m a rock star at being human. – Tracee Ellis Ross

And I will let the fierce within me sleep.  I have fought to have everything in order, I have fought to put myself back together, one heartbeat at a time.  I have fought to have only those who deserve to be at my table, and I have fought to drive out those who are not worthy. My soul needs the rest and my mind needs to fun. My lips need to smile and my heart needs to laugh.

And so goes.

The interval between the decay of the old and the formation and establishment of the new constitutes a period of transition which must always necessarily be one of uncertainty, confusion, error, and wild and fierce fanaticism.  – John C. Calhoun

The Best First

We all have those special holidays or events that our firsts.  But when they combine, the outcome can be magic. This year was a very special Thanksgiving for me. It was the first time that I hosted the family for the big day, and it was the first time in many ears that both my parents were healthy and could celebrate without hesitation.

I worked all week on getting the house ready – everything clean and neat, but just messy enough that Mom had a few things to do and felt useful. Many blankets on Dad’s bed and a heater just for his room so he is nice and warm and toasty. The smoking area in the garage, complete with the couch and back patio chairs, heaters and throw blankets. Plenty of firewood, towels, bed linens and snacks. And the carpet cleaned and looking good (thanks to my wonderful boyfriend).

And then it was time.  Mom and Dad arrived with hugs and kisses and coffee and smiles. Then later it was a hot dinner and cold wine. The next morning, my sister came with her two boys. And the cooking was on.  All of us Burch women in the kitchen, slicing, dicing, mixing and drinking wine and snacking on cheese and crackers.  It was a mess but it was fun.  And wonderful.  That kitchen was filled with so much love. And food – there was Mom’s stuffing recipe, and the secret broccoli and cheese casserole, then the turkey, and…

And then it was time to eat – a few hours past when I originally thought, but that just meant everyone was extra hungry.  We pulled my two tables together for a shabby chic, Hodge-podge Thanksgiving dinner. A prayer was said and then we all ate.  And laughed, and talked and drank and there was happy murmur and conversation.  And as I sat there, looking around at my family in my little home, at my little two tables, I was so very grateful. Another year with them, my family, where everyone is healthy and happy.  And as my heart beat, it swelled with such happiness and contentment that I was ready to pop.

And that is the thing about life, it doesn’t have to be perfect to be wonderful.  I have a small home in a small but nice neighborhood.  Mismatched glasses lined the two tables pushed together and mismatched place mats were under that plates. And no one cared. Because those ancillary things are just that. It’s the imperfections that make those moments and events great. Love makes the imperfections beautiful. .  It was perfect. And amazing. And wonderful. The best first Thanksgiving ever.

From There to Now

What a difference a year makes…or 4, or more.  It truly is amazing all that can happen, all that can change, all that can make you different, stronger, wiser, better. All that can be learned, in that small span of time, in the blink of an eye, that adds up to a lifetime.

Facebook has this nice little feature called “On this Day,” tt makes recalling everything from 1 year ago, 2, 3, 4 and so on years ago very easy.  And when I  look at these memories, I am reminded of all that has transpired from there to now.

1 year ago – I had just found out This Mold house was indeed The Hose of Mold…I was sleeping on my sisters couch, and attempting to make the last chances of a childhood friendship survive. That friendship ended in disaster and hard feelings and a death of sorts.

There was the very new curiosity of a suitor who, as it turns out after pursuing me hard for 6 months,  would prove to view me as nothing more than a burden to be endured, and made sure I felt it too.

Dad’s cancer was not officially in remission, but he had not had a chemo treatment in sometime and was doing very well, which was good after all the family friction of previous few months.

Job wise, I was at a place that was very unprofessional and was miserable. All in all, I was in a terrible place, trying to figure out how to dig out of the hole that had become my life. The digging out had just begun.

And then I look at the landscape of my life now…and I really have no desire to even peak at the last years gone by. That is all in the past, where it should stay.  The only thing left is to say that I am proud of how far I have come, from there to here, proud of the strength it took to walk those miles, those roads, those places, in that darkness and confusion and despair.

I am proud of where there was, and how many baby steps I took, after each heartbeat, to get to the light of where I am now.  Proud of the tears, and perseverance, the tenacity and hope and prayer, and faith, and belief that it must get better. That what is bad and hard is only temporary, and that certainly I could make it just a little longer.

But mostly, I am thankful, so very thankful, mostly because, all because, of my friends, and family and faith that kept me moving, even when I was down and out.  Those who believed in me, said I was strong and capable, and could do it. because I was the one who could take the heat, the one they all said couldn’t be beat.

So very grateful for the souls who held me while I cried, listen while I vented, sat with me quietly, just watching TV, while I healed from all that had passed. Who fixed me dinners and coffees, and tucked me in, making sure I was safe and warm while in this sea of high waves.

But then again, who couldn’t survive, even thrive, with wonderful people around them like that?  I couldn’t have done it without the,=m, as strong as I am.  I am blessed to have them in my life, and blessed, honored and privileged to try to give it back to them, should they ever be in need.

As I look out now, at my wonderful job, great relationship, family’s health and so much more. I am smiling again, writing again (like crazy, it is pouring out). There is a spring in my step and I am singing, though badly, around the house.  There is joy once again. And I know I am not alone.  I wasn’t alone in the rough seas, and I am not alone now that there is celebration to be had.

And that is what this season, this winter, this upcoming year will be – The time of celebration. And healing. And that is the best thing about getting from there to here. Join me, won’t you?

The Oposite of Seasons

This is the season for parties, festivities, socializing, seeing old friends, making new friends and just a lot of hustle and bustle. It is a season of extraverts. But this season I am feeling anything but extravert.

This year I am feeling very be cozy and warm mama bearish. I just want to be home, or with a close circle of friends. Yes, the invites have been pouring in for this and that.  And surely these are people whose company I have enjoyed in the past. But my couch is so very comfortable and the fire is warm.

This year, after being terrible displaced from my home due to toxic mold, I am more appreciative of e safe place to hang my hat.  I want to make this space warm and welcoming to all those whom I love and care.

And as the pictures of festive parties, pretty dresses, fixed hair, perfect make up and lots of drinks are posted on Facebook and other social media outlets, I smile and click like from the comfort and warmth of my own hearth, on my flannel PJ’s and fuzzy socks (yes, super sexy, I know).

I sip wine and listen to my favorite music, unpacking, organizing, arranging furniture and getting settled.  And who says you have to be and about on the town seeing and being seen to be social? I have my friends close by, still meeting for dinners and drinks.  I run to theirs or they come to mine. It is nice and quiet and small and quaint.

There is home cooking – soups and sauces, new recipes and old favorite, smells and fragrances filling the house. Putting up and decorating the Christmas tree, with all the old ornaments from childhood that make me smile and love my parents. There is eggnog and mistletoe and kisses and laughter. There is the gentleness of starting over.

And sometimes, in the big world, it is good to be small and close.  It is good to make sure that all of our fingers and toes and accounted for and painted pretty colors, enjoying the small comforts that build the foundation of a good and happy life. Sometimes the small celebrations are even more meaningful than the big ones.

And sometimes, when it is all said and done, it is the building of many of those small moments that make a life worth living and loving. Sometimes being the opposite of the season is what gives it it’s meaning.

When a Klutz Mows the Lawn

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.

Thank You Vegas

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.

Sitcom Moments: Adventures in Travel

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…

I am Secretly Bridget Jones

Upon looking back on my life…I release that my life resembles that of a movie…not, not Armageddon. No, not Sex in the City (it’s more like Zip in the City) .No, it’s more along the lines of Bridget Jones’s Diary. Minus the Blonde hair.

While I have never “bonked” my boss, I have dated co-workers. (Never do that. Really.) I have worked in media as a reporter, DJ, traffic person, etc. No, I have not dressed in a Playboy Bunny constume (yet), I have been known to do and say the wrong thing at exactly the wrong time and make an idiot of myself…pretty much on a regular basis.

I am extremely clumsy and can find myself in embarrassing moments at any given time (stay tuned for regular tales of chaos as I try to concur the fix-up “To Do” list on my house – Ada vs. the yard, the lawn mower, ladder, the paint can and brush, the calk gun, the leaf blower, the what-ever-the-is-in-the-dark-corner-of0the-garage….).

And my tales of romance, except for one major disaster, have been quite entertaining. There have been many moments of “Really?” not to mention uncomfortable moments with my doctor as he advises me that if I want to have a child I need to “hurry up,” as it’s not good for a woman of my age. (Never thought my doctor’s biological clock would be ticking harder for me than my own).

And then there is the now infamous 20lbs that has attached it’s self to my thighs…and stomach, and underside of my arms, and chin. Seriously, what’s up with that? The upside is that the Girls are looking full and fabulous. I don’t diet, and eventually when (if) it ever gets warm, I’ll be outside running, jogging and hiking those extra pounds away.

All I need now are two fabulously handsome British men fighting over me. No? Well, there’s always the next chapter. Until then, I will enjoy my Bridget-esc like existence. And write the tales of this life for all to be entertained.

The Turture Store

Technical skill comes easy for some, others, like me, have to work at it. I love technology, work in the industry, and can make the internet sing. However, some of the more basic hardware issues, like which cord, adaptor, plug-in thingy (yes, that is the proper technical term, at least in my dictionary) works with what, is beyond my capabilities.

I love computer gadgets and power tools, I just don’t know how to use them. I go to the tool section of the hardware store and my mind just whizzes with all of the possibilities…it’s like going into a magic store. These things make other things work.  OOoooooooo, ahhhhhhhhh……

Don’t get me wrong …I can change my own oil, change my own brake pads, calipers, spark plugs (when I had a car that actually had them), change and even rotate my tires, and a few minor tasks like that. I can paint a wall, use a big monkey wrench to take apart the pipe thingy under the bathroom sing to fish out a lost contact lens (not that that has actually happened…just hypothetically speaking). I even changed out the plug on my dryer, hooking up the red, green and red wires….

But don’t ask me to change to ringtone on my iPhone, or set up my wireless router, or get my TV to connect to my wireless network…Or, know which connector/chord/adapter thingy is required to tether my two monitors together at work. It is simple, I was told…just get this one kind of adapter…

Apparently it is hard for the guys at the computer store too…because I now have to go back for the third time to get the right connector/cord/adapter thingy. I hate going into computer stores because most of what’s in there looks like ancient torture devices.  I start getting dizzy, can’t breath…I think I may be allergic.

The first thingy was a DVI-A, when I needed a DVD-D. Except the store doesn’t carry those. OK, could I connect one through the port and one through a USB? Yes!  This made me very happy…until found out that the USB<->D89 adapter is the wrong one.  Again.

So, I am actually going to carry the cords that the two monitors would be connected with if they went that way…and maybe that will be easier…And hopefully my next trip to the torture device, eerrrr, I mean, Computer store, will be the last one for this task.

The Art of the Move

They say that movement is an art – if you have any doubt, just watch someone do ti-chi. But what about the art of moving? You know, all that is involved in packing and moving? I am convinced that this too is an art…and maybe should even be considered an Olympic sport.  After all, you have things like packing weight in appropriate boxes, box wrangling (the art of finding free boxes), Creative packing (example: packing collectable with sweaters, using towels to secure plates so that they do not move or break). There is the art of speed packing (how fast you can pack when moving day is here and there are still 1,001 things still not packed). And Deep packing (just how much CAN you fit in a box before it implodes and falls apart?)…

Then there is all the labeling. Most are fine with simply writing the room -Kitchen, Master bath, living room…but not me. No, there is an art to this too.  For those of us who truly believe is raising the bar…not only are the boxes labeled to the room, but they are numbered with a general list of contents. Then there is a master list written in a notepad that lists, in detail, in numerical order, exactly is in which box. No more wondering where the paper towels or coffee pot are, no more going through 15 boxes just to find the toothpaste, or clean sheets. No, just go to the boxes numbered and grouped for that room, and go t=down the itemized list of contents.

There is skeezy neighbor dodging – us girls are especially experienced in this area. For example, I got a text from my next door neighbor tonight asking if he could help me pack…at 11pm. I politely said thank you, but it was late and I was done for the day, about to go to bed. Then here it comes…The (and I kid you not) answer: “If you are tired can I give you a good massage am very good. And you are moving and I don’t know if I will see you again and I like to have a beautiful memory of…you. :)”  More like he wanted a beautiful memory of my vagina. Um, NO.

Seriously? Men, let me help you out and give you a little advice here: If your neighbor has lived next to you for 3 years and has Never shown an interest in your what-so-ever…save yourself from the embarrassment of the “Hell will freeze over before That ever happens!” response…and just don’t do it. Choose to be a nice guy who just offers to help move – no other “offers” attached. M’kay? Good.

Next is the Friends Drama Frenzy category. Because one cannot have a big move or life change, without drama from friends. So the trick is knowing which ones to cut, and which ones to keep…kind of like Kenny Rogers in The Gambler. Because there is normal Everyone-is-just-tired-tired-from-helping-you-pack drama, and there is the W-T-H-? Drama. Drop the ones who bring the WTH? ones…you don’t need them. Stop. Drop. And Run. Like the wind. And don’t look back.

And we cannot forget my personal favorite category of moving..The I-am-a-klutz-and-am-trying-not-to-trip-and-break-my-neck-or-anythng-in-the-boxes category. Yes, my name is Ada (middle name Grace) and I am a Klutz. And during this packing marathon, I have tripped over boxes, tape, kitchen things, piles of clothes, bubble wrap, dishes, the contents of drawers, the cats, the floor, my own feet (well the last two I trip over even when I am not moving)…

Last, but not least is Drink and pack…that involves the amount of wine that can be consumed while packing, and still have the items still effectively packed and protected. In other words – does it look like an adult packed the box, or a 5 year old? While wine (and chocolate) help make everything better, it may be time to cut back if it looks like Santa’s very young elves packed your Grandmother’s china. Not good.

So the art of moving is just that…an art. Truly. So, even though it is a time consuming hassle, enjoy it, make it fun and try to to break anything…

 

Spanx For Playing

We should open a store called Forever 39 and sell wine and Spanx.

Being a curvy girl is a wonderful thing. And I have found that I truly love my new-found curves. Because you are soft, curvy, feminine and very womanly. It’s great to have hips, but, thighs and boobs.  And it’s great that I little invention called Spanx helps keeps everything from spilling out and bulging over in the tighter fitting knit styles that are so popular today.

What is not wonderful? Trying to wiggle, squirm, squeeze and contort to get into these Spanx – especially every time you have to go to the bathroom.  I think I’ll pass up the gym today – I’ve already had my workout. Anyone who has ever worn them, or even seen these tiny things come out of the package, has wondered how in the heck are these going to fit? You know what I am talking about.

There are 1 piece top and bottoms, then there is the one piece – which I have – that smooths everything, tummy, belly, hips and thighs. It is perfect if you have a long-ish outfit. Basically it takes an act of congress to negotiate out of the one piece Spanx. No matter what you are wearing (today it’s a dress) you have to take all of it off just to get to the Spanx. So you better hope the stall has enough room to get undressed. After you take your clothes off, then you have to take off your panty hose, if wearing them. Ok, that’s easy enough, just takes time. Then you get to the magic that keeps everything the place.

You have to do the Out-of-Spanx dance, that makes you look like you are from Outer space. First, you get the straps over your shoulder, and slowly suck in as you peel the Spanx off of your upper torso.. Then you wiggle to get the Spanx off your waste…and then…it’s the hips. If you are like me…and you have lot s s O’Hip…this is a challenge. You suck in, wiggle, woggle (yes, that is a word) stretch and eventually they will slowly start to budge.

After you get them off, then you have to contort, wiggle and dance to get them back on. You have stretch the Spanx beyond what it seems their capacity to be and smooth them out to make sure everything is in place underneath and nothing is bulging in the wrong spaces. Once everything is in place, you can put your clothes back on and step out of the stall.

So men, if your girlfriend, who looks fabulous in that dress, is taking a long time in the bathroom, changes are she may be stuck in Spanx. (Think of the episode of Friends where Ross gets stuck on those leather pants…). It’s also a bit like Bridget Jones wearing the panties that make it more likely to have sex, unless the dress comes off….but so be patient– it takes a lot to look this hot. But don’t worry, we’re worth it.

No Regrets

I have no regrets, looking back on the landscape if this year, in this life. I have no regrets on what I have done and what has been left undone.

There are no words that haunt me, spoken or kept still. No actions that trouble my soul, no undone thrill.

There are no tears that have been dried or kept at bay, or escaping down my cheek from rims of wide weary eyes, that partake in regret.

No longing set free, no feelings left unturned. There is nothing to look back upon, and wish another way for me.

And as I look back, standing at the edge of this year, this long, hard, undone, overdone year, there is nothing that makes me want a other walk down the path or choose another road than the one I have traveled.

There has been compassion and contention, love, discord, pain and happiness. More joy than one can hold, more sorrow than one should endure. There have been sacrifices and giving of self, hiding, finding, sipping and devouring…it all.

I am all of it, every bit. The complete all of it, the unfinished of it, the breadth and depth of it. I am glad for it all, the good bad and the big and small.

I have no regrets waking up with you, all of you and your deals, wet from us and warm with skin on mine. No regrets of swimming, riding with my bare feet on the dash or taking a shower in the rain. No regrets sitting, listening to drops on the tin roof, in your little place. No regrets of you at all.

No regrets for fighting for family and what is right. None for being brave, saying what is felt and what should have been said long ago. No regrets for the love and loss of the year as it has passed.No regrets for the mistakes and lessons learned.

There has been hard work, harder play and many things let go this year. I carried the map of my life with every. Single. Heartbeat. And you were there too. Yes you.

Books have been read, put down and some left unfinished. Thoughts written down and lost or erased from time. And still, no regrets. Nooks and crannies have been explored, many prayers said and blessing given. Dreams have come to fruition, nightmares have been banished beneath the cloak of in in which they came.

I have carried this heart, heavy with sorrow and joy, across this country, in cars, in airplanes, in boats, up on a horse in hiking trails, in the woods, in the city, to work, to run, in water, in the anonymity of the night, and the harsh light of day.

This year, this 12 months, I have been the judge and jury, been judged and done the judging, been right, wrong, black, white and gray. I have laid it all out and picked up the deck.

And at the end of this year, this moment in my life, there is Peace. There is happiness. Mostly because, all because, you have been in my heart.

Freedom

I swam in the ocean and played like a child. I did back flips, hand stands and the back stroke. I let the current of the ocean carry me as I floated on the surface. I swam underwater, like a fish, seeing how long I could hd my breath before coming up to the surface for that first gasp of air when my lungs felt like they are going to burst. There was an excitement, an innocents that coursed through my veins as I felt the water against my skin.

At first the water was almost too cold, but then as my body adjusted tot he temperature, it felt refreshing and I was energized. The entire sea in front of me, with all the mystery it holds. All it’s secrets being whispered to me in the currents.

It had been almost two years since I swam in the ocean. Almost two years since I did back flips and let the water carry me. And it was wonderful.

It makes you appreciate the cool fresh salty air of the sea. And to feel the soft breeze across my damp face was pure heaven. And I saw God, in the sea, int he sky, in the everything of the moment. And I knew He had me in his hands and that all was well in my world.

There were hot Krispy Kreme donuts in bed, melting in my mouth from the first bite to the last. There was laughter, wine and dancing. There was the innocence and playfulness of a child. It was freedom.

Falling for Fall

It is Fall here in the south. The weather is turning cooler, with the highs in the low 80’s and high 70’s. At night the air is crisp and cool, promising the cold of the winter to come. In a word, it is delicious. I love this time of year. The air-conditioning gets turned off and the windows or up at night, as the cooler temperatures makes sleeping under a warm blanket a wonderful experience…until you try to get out of bed the next morning. Car rides have the windows down and the radio up, as the cool fall air mixes with  the warm sun to make the perfect recipe for road trip.

The fall festivals have already started, and the leaves are beginning to turn colors. The air is light and fresh, as  are the spirits of those around. Yes, it is fall, yummy, cool, promising, busy and fun. This weekend was a great taste of what is to come.

Family is a big part of my life. My youngest nephew came up with his girlfriend to explore and go to see a concert. Leaving us boring adults behind, they went shopping, eating, concert going and had much fun just being together. But I suspect we boring old people had much more fun.

Friday night were “crack tots” and beer with friends. Crack tots, true to their name, are highly addictive. You cannot just have one of these delicious tots dipped in equally addictive cheese sauce.  Thank goodness they have no calories either (at least that is what I tell myself as I devour them). Later that night my nephew and his girlfriend arrived, and there was much laughter and love.

Saturday was crazy busy, as once again the two lovebirds went out looking for cool things to do in Atlanta. Breakfast was cooked, more laughter and lots of activity around the Burch household. Then it was time for the adults to play, as we planned a fun time downtown. A friend of mine has a brother who bought a favorite bar, so we went down for the celebration. And we celebrated a lot. There were hugs of friend that I had not seen for a=years, laughter, catching up, eating and drinking. There was great live music, an old bank vault filled with everything Elvis, dancing and lots of Johnny Cash. There were pictures and smiles, and of course, several times I nearly tripped.

Sunday brought about sleeping late, brunching and lots of laughter and love

And I have to say that I am falling in love…with this season, and these weekends, and my family, and this time, these moments, in life. I am falling for Fall. And it is wonderfully delicious!

The Life of Family

When you have family living with you, life changes a bit from living on your own. You see it in movies, and it’s true. There are all kinds of interesting and funny moments. And considering at any time in the past moments I could have had 5 people and 7 cats, the soil has been ripe with opportunities for comedy moments. Take the typical day:

I wake up to the purring and kitties looking for attention, giving  me kisses, poking my face for attention and trying to sleep on my face. Then, at another point before sunrise, I hear my sister get up and get ready. Then I hear the beeping of the alarm system as she leaves.

After the sunrises, I get up to an entire bed full of cats. As I am in the shower, I hear the familiar cry of the kittens who don’t like me going where they can’t go – the shower being one of those places. I stick my head out several times to so they can see me. Inevitably, this leads them to think, once again, that may be able to squeeze in between the drops and not get wet. Wrong. They try to come in, discover the rainstorm, panic and run out.

Then I notice that the cream rinse is gone…the 7 bottles of shampoo are there – but the one bottle of conditioner is missing. Must be in their bathroom since they ran out (note to self pick up more conditioner at the store).

As I get out of the shower, they have recovered and are now jumping up trying to catch the towel as I wrap it around my hair with playful eyes and little sharp claws.

Next is the sink…and trying to brush my teeth, wash my face as they jump in and out of the stream of water…and then they get bored with that. And as I reach for my toothbrush…I notice one of them chewing on it. Time for a new toothbrush! But the seemingly endless stash of new toothbrushes that are (were) under the sink are gone…Great. (Note to self: buy more new toothbrushes. Hide them.)

If it is a morning where I take my nephew to campus, after trying not to trip over cats racing us down the stairs, we gather our things downstairs, make our lunch and fix our coffee before the ride. There is quite a bit of hustle and bustle.  Lots of tripping over cats, feeding them, and making plans for what do to for dinner. Then it is off in the car, listening to classical music, and discussing things that make me feel very intelligent…mostly.

At the end f the day, when everyone is home, it’s either a sit down dinner, where all the events of the day are discussed, jokes and made and wine is poured. Or a “fend for yourself” evening where we all grab what is yummy out of the fridge. We congregate downstairs by the TV, watching the Science Channel, or up in my room, they sitting on the bed lightly talking while the TV is on and I am at the desk writing. Or I will be in my sisters room, in her bed, she at her desk, and my nephew coming in to discuss things as he thinks of them.

There is laughter, plans discussed and made and just good family time. And many moments that make a house a home. A happy home.

HAve Fun to Be Happy

There is a saying that all work and no play makes for a dull life. That certainly could not be said of life recently.  Summer has wrapped up, fall is in the air and fun is everywhere. The last few months have seen so many wonderful adventures, first tries, new experiences, new friends, lots of laughter, so many memories and lots of smiles.

This past weekend almost a blur of activity with wonderful friends. There was a bike ride on a friends Harley, hot tubbing, dancing, singing, brunching, and topped off with a night of incredible music filled with so much soul it brought one of my friends and I to tears. I haven’t danced like that in a few years. And some of the best places to dance are redneck bars – where many on the dance floor have already taken off their shoes. Club dancing is fun – if you have on a super hot fabulous outfit, if you want to see and be seen, and if you want to meet models…but for just plain, fun, don’t care how I look, just want to have fun dancing, you need a red neck bar. Trust me on this.

Riding on the back of a bike is wonderful. To be that free, to have the wind rushing past you, is amazing and the best way to travel. And with someone trusted it is pure fun. And to do something just for the pure fun of it is something we forget to do as adults. We have responsiblities and haven;t the time for such nonsense. What. Ev. Ah. Always be curious.

Then there was a the roller derby – a friend had extra tickets. Having never been to a roller derby, and being the adventurous type that is always up for trying new tings, I said yes before i could lace up the roller skates.  If you never been to one and ever get the chance to go, do it. It is so much fun. It’s like going to a hockey game. Except it’s on skates. And it’s girls. My nephew loved it and thought it was the best thing since the National Cheer-leading Competition cam to Atlanta. Sitting with friends, drinking cheap beer while in a packed stadium, watching girls on roller skates zip around the track and push each other around was a total blast.

Next was going to a dirt track and watching all the races – formula cars, mustangs, more kinds of cars and races than I can remember.  Don’t go for the beer – they don’t serve it, but it’s a great family atmosphere with lots of cars that go fast and make a lot of noise. Perfect for a father/son outing. Or just a couple sisters hanging out with a friend. And I almost  managed to NOT smile anything. Almost.

In the past month I have also worked quite a bit in a friends shop. I remember my dad having a hue shop and doing a lot of woodwork. As he would work, I would hear the loud sound of the saw, smell the saw dust then hear the hammer or sander. So it was so much fun to go into my friends shop and watch as he worked with the wood and metal, instructing me what to do and how to do it. I helped build shelves.  Yes, I had done this before, but not in many years. And I stained the shelves. And then they were put up in his house, where they will be used and loved for many years. It was a great feeling to have made something out of nothing. To have it be tangible, useful and pretty.

And I have gone swimming in a river, in the woods, where only the locals go. Again, something I have grown up doing, but not for a long time. And I have ridden in a truck, with the windows down and my feet either on the dash, or out of the window, in true, southern style. I have driven miles and miles, gone hiking, listened to the rain on a tin roof, felt sound and been exhausted from pure joy of life.

Yes, I have worked very hard during this time, but in the spirit of keeping things balanced I have done something new. I have played just as hard as well. I have taken pause and time to take care of the playful in me. I have indulged my curiosity, sung at the top of my lungs, listened to the crickets and watched the magic of the fireflies.

And I have let my emotions go as well. I have cried when I felt like it instead of holding back. And even when it was scary, I was vulnerable, and let others comfort me in my tears. I have known the pain of too much tenderness. And in morning, when the sun rose, there was always a new chance.

So play as hard as you work. Take as many chances as you can, as many new experiences as you can stand and drink them up like a sponge. Because you will never get that day, that chance again. And you never know just what treasure you may find.

live authentically., live honestly. Live passionately.

Aaaand, Im Back!

Ada Lamar has been dark for over 6 months as I took a break from this blog. The time away has been wonderful and filled with much magic. Life is filled with long walks, long talks, lots of family, hope, dreams, love, hand holding and wine. There has been much writing, a career I love, meeting great people, making stronger bonds with old friends, midnight gardening by the moonlight, travel, sunburns, house cleaning and warm sheets. Along the way there has been good news, bad news, tears and laughter. Lots of desserts, plans, saying goodbye and many hello’s. Prayers, fights, triumphs, motorcycle rides, roller derbies, boxing, running, playing and working. Sweat equity, painting, organizing, consolidating, planning, building staining hammering, learning and eating.

And every step pf the way, every heartbeat along the road, for everything I have carried and all that I have let go, I am happy and life is good.

And I look forward to writing about many more adventures to come!

Old Picutre, Great Memories

A friend sent me these OLD pictures…dating back to High school to about 5 years ago. Hysterical!

The Gang posing. age 19
The Gang posing. age 19
What was I thinking with all those bangs?? Age 15
What was I thinking with all those bangs?? Age 15
Again, whats up with those bangs? Age 16.
Again, whats up with those bangs? Age 16.
Homecoming. Age 17
Homecoming. Age 17
THe Gang again. Age 19
THe Gang again. Age 19
Yeah, I thought I was a model, Haha! Age 14
Yeah, I thought I was a model, Haha! Age 14
Promo radio shot with my then morning partner. Age 27
Promo radio shot with my then morning partner. Age 27
In NYC. Age 30
In NYC. Age 30
Very tired girl. Age 16
Very tired girl. Age 16
Junior in high school. Wow, was my hair really that long?
Junior in high school. Wow, was my hair really that long?
On the beach with my BFF
On the beach with my BFF
Halloween 1992, age 19
Halloween 1992, age 19
Me back in my radio days. Age 29
Me back in my radio days. Age 29
The famous "ass shot" taken when modeling in NYC
The famous “ass shot” taken when modeling in NYC
Kiss me...again, what's up with the hair?
Kiss me…again, what’s up with the hair?
Short hair, Age 34
Short hair, Age 34
Long hair again, Age 33
Long hair again, Age 33
Me and Mom, the pick ladies, Age 33
Me and Mom, the pick ladies, Age 33

What Turning 40 Really Means

We all have birthdays, we all have milestones in our lives. What is fun is when the two intersect. And there are many times in our lives that this happens: turning 13, 16, 18, 21, 25, 30, 40, 50…

Yesterday I experiences my 40th birthday. It was the best birthday ever and one hellava milestone in life. I am not sure why, but most women dread their 40th birthday, and just getting older period. I have never understood this. Growing older, to me, is a wonderful thing. And I have always looked forward to my 40th birthday. Oddly enough, it’s those who are under the age of 40 who seem to fear that number so much.

The women I know who are 40 and above, smiled, told me how wonderful being in my 40’s would be, that I would love it and welcomed me to the club. And it does feel like I have entered into some exclusive club now, a place where only women o f a certain age and maturity understand and are allowed. And not one of those women said that their 40’s were bad, or even unpleasant. They all smiled and said they loved being in their 40’s and it truly was magnificent. And truly it is.

It does make me wonder though, why do younger women fear that number so much? D they feel that it is the loss of youth? That they no longer will be beautiful or desirable?  Is it the young that give 40 a bad name? Because I have to tell you, from this side of the mirror, it’s fantastic.

I spent what is arguably the best birthday of my life in the spa, being pampered. It was wonderful and my skin and hair are glowing today. But even beyond the wonderful spa treatemtns, I have noticed something wonderful: I have noticed and fallen in love with the process of aging.

And why not? You can’t stop it, so you might as well enjoy it. Which is something I have found rather easy. I enjoy seeing those little laugh lines around my eyes and mouth. I enjoy my body and how it looks and feels as I age.  And the older I get, the more like a women I feel. I enjoy the way my stomach looks, even though it is not as flat as it used to be. I enjoy the look of my legs, my arms, everything. There is a new confidence that never existed when I was younger. It is a comfort of not only being comfortable in my own skin, but loving my skin.

My 20’s were so much fun, and I had a good time and worked hard in my 30’s. But I LOVE being 40. And I look at those young girls, who are as I used to be, and I smile. I think “good for them!” They are younger and they should enjoy it, because as much fun as they ae having now, it’s only going to get better.

At 40, you become more relaxed. You’ve been there, done that and really don’t care. You have nothing to prove and know you have earned the right to do what you want, no explanation needed, or given. You can do things in your 40’s that you could never do at any younger age. You have the confidence to carry yourself in whatever situation you may find you want to get into. Things that bothered you before don’t bother you now. And you just shake your head and know that you are too busy to be bothered with the small stuff. And most things are the small stuff.

And so it is with a smile and a wink…and a fabulous day at the spa, that I enter into this new decade.

How Being a Misfit is Good

I have a confession to make. And it’s pretty big, so you may want to sit down. Here it is: I am a misfit. Yep. Totally. Absolutley.

According to the Briggs-Meyers personality test, I am an ENTJ, which for those people who know me in reality, describes me to a T. And I am also quite a bit of a misfit. I am clumsy, often put my foot in my mouth, my entire life is a sitcom of embarrassing and Bridget Jones type situations. And my lack of ability to spell on this blog puts me in rare company. Let’s face it, anyone who manages to drop their drug test pee cup in front of a super hot guy, or trip over a couch in a furniture store just has to accept the fact that they are different.

But everyone else is different too, that makes me normal. Kind of.

Being a misfit is not all bad. Many people and companies can benefit from the “misfits.” These traits are what also make me creative and able to write so well. These traits are what give me the ability to communicate with such a huge cross-section of people about such a wide array of topics. These traits are also what get me into trouble from time to time.

Details are very important. and they are the bane of my existence. I am horrible at details. When I was in school, I could do the math in my head, but hard a hard time getting the right answers when I worked  them out long hand. Want to see both a frustrated student and teacher? Try a student who can only do the math in her head, and a teacher who can’t get the student to get the right answer worked out on paper. I couldn’t explain how I got it right, but the teacher knew I wasn’t cheating because I did not have access to the answers.

Which is more important though, the ability to pay attention to detail, or the ability to concentrate? Not sure. I do have great concentration abilities. Which is good because I am so bad at details. I have to concentrate very hard to be meticulous. And it works. I often uncover details in my research that no one else can find and am able to put the information together in ways others can not connect.  And the great thing about being an adult and not in school is that you can just call it “instinct,” and then you don’t have to explain it on paper.

Listening is also a great ability to have, but it is one that does not come natural to me either. That is because many times my brain is going so fast with ideas that I miss out on what the other person is saying. I have to concentrate, once again, on slowing down and make a conscious effort to listen. That takes an effort. So what it boils dow to is this: If I care about you I will listen to you. If I don’t, I won’t. Because if I don’t care about you, why would I care what you have to say? It’s not very politically correct, but that is the reality.

What I have found about listening  is that it’s an intensely intimate act. To quiet your own thoughts down enough to hear the other persons voice is tremendous. To really take in what they are saying, comprehend the meaning behind it, and listen to what they are not saying as well. Listening is an act of compassion, caring, empathy and love. Because just the single act of listening creates connection. You cannot truly listen to another and not feel a connection, whether positive or negative.

Listening also forces you to take a step back and consider other possibilities. I am a bit of a control freak, but if I listen to what someone I care about wants, and it is different from what I want, I have to let go. I have to give up control and let the other person in. Listening forces you to let go, because if you care about the other person, what they want and how they feel, you want them to be happy. Others cannot be happy if you are always in control.

Another thing that makes me a misfit? The fact that when I am in my car I have conversations in my head. I think of how the best way to handle meetings, conflicts and conversations. I plan out what I need to say and how. That is how much of a control freak I am. So listening to others helps me stay connected with others. Listening helps me let life unfold on it’s own, without my interference.

Those are the big things that contribute to my misfitness. There are also the issues of my extreme clumsiness, my inability to grow houseplants without killing them, the fact that I must walk on my tip toes when happy or when going up stairs, the extreme need for a daily fix of chocolate and a ridiculous work ethic.

But looking around, many others have those issues too. So maybe we can all be misfits, together.

Rules for Christmas

I saw this on a friends Facebook Status and had to share!  Please enjoy and get ready to laugh!!
 
1.Avoid carrot sticks. Anyone who puts carrots on a holiday buffet table knows nothing of the Holiday spirit. In fact, if you see carrots, leave immediately. Go next door, where they’re serving rum balls.
 
2. Drink as much eggnog as you can. And quickly. It’s rare… You cannot find it any other time of year but now. So drink up! Who cares that it has 10,000 calories in every sip? It’s not as if …you’re going to turn into an eggnog-alcoholic or something. It’s a treat. Enjoy it. Have one for me. Have two. It’s later than you think. It’s Christmas!
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3. If something comes with gravy, use it. That’s the whole point of gravy. Gravy does not stand alone. Pour it on. Make a volcano out of your mashed potatoes. Fill it with gravy. Eat the volcano. Repeat.

4. As for mashed potatoes, always ask if they’re made with skim milk or whole milk. If it’s skim, pass. Why bother? It’s like buying a sports car with an automatic transmission.

5. Do not have a snack before going to a party in an effort to control your eating. The whole point of going to a Holiday party is to eat other people’s food for free. Lots of it. Hello?

6. Under no circumstances should you exercise between now and New Year’s. You can do that in January when you have nothing else to do. This is the time for long naps, which you’ll need after circling the buffet table while carrying a 10-pound plate of food and that vat of eggnog.

7. If you come across something really good at a buffet table, like frosted Christmas cookies in the shape and size of Santa, position yourself near them and don’t budge. Have as many as you can before becoming the center of attention. They’re like a beautiful pair of shoes. If you leave them behind, you’re never going to see them again.

8. Same for pies. Apple, Pumpkin, Mincemeat. Have a slice of each. Or if you don’t like mincemeat, have two apples and one pumpkin. Always have three. When else do you get to have more than one dessert? LaborDay?

9. Did someone mention fruitcake? Granted, it’s loaded with the mandatory celebratory calories, but avoid it at all cost. I mean, have some standards.

10. One final tip: If you don’t feel terrible when you leave the party or get up from the table, you haven’t been paying attention. Re-read tips; start over, but hurry, January is just around the corner. Remember this motto to live by:

Quote:
“Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand and wine in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming “YEE-HA!!! WHAT A RIDE!!!”

The Benefits of Being Sick

Flu season is here, now, just in time for the holidays. Chance are that if you don;t get sick, you will know several people who do. Coughing, sneezing, blowing your nose, and feeling like crap is no way to spend Christmas, or anytime for that matter. But, as irritating as it might be, every cloud has a silver lining, including being sick. continue reading for the upside of feeling sideways.

Only when you are sick can you be as crabby and ornery as you want…and people just smile, pat you on the head, say you really must be feeling horrible and the give you more chicken soup.

Dress any way you want. You could come around the corner wearing polka dots and paisley, and no one would say anything. You could wear the most baggy, unflattering outfit, and again, people just smile and give you more chicken soup because you obviously don’t feel well at all. I love wearing my ugliest, most comfortable pair of pajama’s and my fuzzy fish slippers. If I am going to be sick, I am going to also make everyone around me nauseous with my ugly PJ’s.

You get to work from home. You can also show up late to work and most people just appreciate that you tried to show up and work. If you look really bad, they will beg you to go home and feel better soon.

You get to indulge in really bad day time TV Let’s face it, Day time TV is horrible. Except when you are sick. Then, somehow, Judge Judy, Cops, Jerry Springer are all your friends and are great TV. Under the influence of cold medicine, almost any horrible daytime TV show can seem Emmy worthy. So just sit back and enjoy…indulge in your guilty pleasures.

You can eat what you want. No one questions what you eat when you are sick. You could have a diet of nothing but chocolate, and as long as it makes you feel better, no one will complain or say anything. So get to know Ben and Jerry a little better…I know you want to…

People do things for you. When you are sick, people are willing to make you tea, bring you hot soup, make sure you are comfortable, enjoy it while you can, because as soon as you feel better, it will be back to normal.

So, while being sick is o picnic, enjoy the perks. And take your vitamin

Stop. It’s Snuggie Time

It’s that time of year again, when the nights are cool and another blanket gets [ut on the bed. The air is crisp with the promise of the season. You may say it’s winter, you may say it’s the holiday season, you may say it’s Christmas, and you would be correct. however, there is another season that is often overlooked, though highly celebrated by many. What season is that?

It’s Snuggie Season!  That’s right, the celebrated blanket with arms. You may laugh now, but there is nothing like wrapping up in the sweet softness of the Snuggie. And you have many choices of colors and patterns. My coveted Snuggie is the basic blue…but you have orange, pink, even leopard print to choose from. And if you are a sports fan, you can choose you favorite team as well.

So go ahead, wrap up in the warmth and comfort of the Snuggie…you know you want to…

Me in my Snuggie

The Best Things About Winter

There are many things to love about Spring, with all the warm weather and new leaves. Summer is the season of fun and fall is when we finally cool down and enjoy the colors of the leaves. But what about winter? I think this season gets a bad reputation. Don’t get me wrong, i do hate to be cold, but winter is wonderful. Don’t think so? Just read continue reading.

hibernation: Suffering from a bit of overexposure after all the summer pool parties and fall festivals? Winter is the time to relax, rejuvenate and hibernate. Read a good book, watch your favorite movies, do those home projects you’ve been putting off. It gets dark sooner so it’s perfect for sleeping. And girls, take a break from shaving…yes! (girls, don;t even try to deny it, you know you’ve done it) We can also gain a few pounds since we’ll all be covered up on sweaters anyway. So go ahead, have that extra piece of pie. Yum!

Warm blankets and hot chocolate: They just go together like peanut butter and jelly. Wrap up in something soft and warm and drink that wonderful hot chocolate to heat you up from the inside out. Maybe even put a little Baily’s in it for some extra snap. Warm fuzzy socks are also great for the season. Along with warm, soft sweaters that guys love to see us girls wearing. Just be careful if you are a klutz like me and try not to spill really hot chocolate all over your favorite sweater…or your favorite guy.

Christmas lights and holidays: We get a lot of time off during the winter and see family (which, lets face it, can be good or bad). In between saying hello to creepy Uncle Bob and Dodging Aunt Nancy, we may find ourselves catching up with family we actually love and miss. We get to go shopping, sing Christmas carols and see all the wonderful Christmas lights. To me, they are magic. I love them and they make me happy. And if you don’t like the holidays…then boo to you! I’ll talk to you in the Spring thaw.

Fireplaces: Not too much beats the warmth and great sound of a fire. And I love to hear that wonderful crackle. Unfortunately, I have a gas fireplace, not a log burning one. It’s jsut not the same…Roasting marshmallows, having a glass of wine, laughing and long conversations are all made perfect by the fireside. Just remember, don’t drink too much by the fire…or you may fall in (not that that has ever happened…)

Snuggle weather:  One of the best things about winter. Cold nights make for wonderful snuggling, and what better excuse to get cozy with that cutie you have a crush on than to keep warm? From cold nights to sitting by the fire to kissing in the snow…winter is made for love. As long as you don’t have the flu or have been near anyone who has been close to anyone who has the flu.

Boots: Nothing says winter like a great pair of boots for the season. And guys, you know you love when we wear them too. And they are made for walking away quickly should you encounter anyone with the flu.

Snow: Here in the south we don’t get that much snow, but when we do it’s a lot of fun…as long as you don’t have to drive in it. You don’t have to work and you can just stay home, make snow angels and snow men. And if it doesn’t snow this year, I plan to take a trip to the mountains to play. It is my goal to be kissed in the snow this year as well. I just have to find some mistletoe.These are just some of the great things about winter. As the season goes along I am sure there will be many more things to list. So get out those warms blankets and soft sweaters.

Day 5: Not in Sandy’s Path

In the spirit of being thankful for something each day this month, I am thankful for where I live and that Sandy did not hit us like it did up North.  This area could just as easily be damaged by a strong storm. Funny that we think skyscrapers and big cities are indestructable.  A few years ago a tornado came through Atlanta and did a lot of damage to the buildings downtown. I can only imagine what hours of a strong, slow moving hurricane could do.

The power outages when it is so cold, the flooding and homes that were destroyed, the tempuratures dipping down below freezing, the gas shortages, long lines and generators that are on empty. Many times when our lives are easy, we forget that there are others still dealing with what happened. Seeing the news and hearing how gas is being rationed, hearing from my friends who tell me how they are doing, and the things that the news doesn’t report…it makes me so very thankful that I am OK, that I have power, that gas is not at a shortage, that my house is dry and I am safe.

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On a lighter note, I am also thankful for No Shave November, and all the men that have facial hair. I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE facial hair. It makes me smile. 🙂

A Happy Summer

It is summer. The air is warm, well hot actually. There are summer tunes heard playing on radios, the malls are full of kids who are playing in the public “spray” areas where they get to run through streams of cold water and scream and giggle with delight.  The music of ice cream trucks can be heard in almost every neighborhood as the temperatures reach triple digits and everyone is wearing shorts and cool t-shirts.

The days are lazy yet simultaneously filled with activities as vacations are planned, while others enjoy lazy afternoons reading by the pool or relaxing in a soft chair indoors. Fabrics are light and cool, calls are missed as phones are left behind for boat rides and dips in the ocean. Laptops are left on desks as days are longer and friends linger on patios, laughing over wine, sweet memories and long stories.

And I think of my own life, and how for I have come since just the beginning of the year, and the beginning of last month even. And how, in the slow march of time that zips by at the speed of life, I have changed and grown in my own skin. I think of my friends, those who are far and close, and of my favorite memories. Think of my family, and how dear we are to each other. I think of the man in my life, and how sweet it is to enjoy being the girl and getting to know someone. And the sweet taste of salty summer kisses.

Life is not perfect. My house is a bit messy, with clothes from the weekend still not folded or put away. I am still 10 pounds (ok, maybe 15) away from my ideal weight. I still have a creepy ex, and I still have not won the lottery. But it is summer. And I am happy, giddy even, about my life and this season of love and warmth. And that is perfect enough for me.

A Great Weekend Ahead

It is summer and that means long days by the pool, sleeping late, Bar B Q’s and tan lines. If you are out for the summer that is.  If you are among the working, as I am, summer relaxation and fun is often restricted to the weekends. Maybe that is why I am so looking forward to this weekend. Or maybe it is spending it with the man I am dating that has me so excited.

In addition to romance, the weekend will have old friends, laughter, great food, and lots of adventure. Old friends are coming into town and though I may not see a lot of them, no doubt the time spent with them will be wonderful. The only problem? That the weekend is too short and I will not want to come back to reality after two days.

But for two days I am free falling –  in love, in laughter, in friendship and in the sweet mushy wonderfulness of life. And nothing can rain on my parade, take away my peace or contentment, the glow in my eyes or the smile on  my face. Indeed, my life is adrift in candy wrapper sweetness and the arms of a true man, courtesy of Rex, who introduced us (who I hope will guest blog again soon).

Yes life is good and I am happy.

A Day of Play

We all need those days where we just get away. Yesterday was that day for me. I was taken away for one of the best and most fun days in a long time. It started out with lunch and then moved to zip lining. Now if you have not been zip lining, I highly recommend it, as long as you are not afraid of heights or swinging at 40 mph through the trees at 70 feet about the ground.

When I was growing up I was often climbing trees (yes I was a tomboy). I grew up in the country and we were almost always outside playing. It was so much fun to hang on and zip along – one handed, no hands, and even racing and going about 40 mph (I think). It was fantastically fun.

The last 2 months have been a lot of worry and tears. Everything has turned out well, but that does not mean it has been stressful along the way. It is hard when a loved on is sick, it is even harder when you are far away from that family member. This was the first time I was not able to take off and go down to be with my Dad and family. My mother had cancer and was going through treatment when I lived in New york many years ago. It doesn’t get any easier.

Yesterday was a gift, because I was able to forget about everything but the woods and the trees and the air whizzing past me. I was able to laugh (and I have not laughed that hard in a long time). I was able to just relax and have a great time. I was able to be a kid again, so to speak, with no worries or concerns in the world. It was wonderful. Pure unadulterated fun.

Dinner and a movie later, I was tired, happy and full. I slept like a rock and woke up smiling. A vacation, a day of play is good for the heart, mind, body and the soul.

 

Hello, My Name is Ada and I am a Klutz

For those of you who know me personally, or who read this blog, you know I am a klutz. In life we all must accept who we are and our limitations. And for me, I really have no choice but to accept my clumsiness  and not only admit to it, but own it. When you absolutely cannot hide something, own it. It makes things a lot easier.

The latest adventure in my life as a klutz was at lunch today. I am in the breakroom heating up my Lean Cuisine culinary frozen delight, when a gorgeous man comes in. We exchange pleasantries, no big deal. He is waiting to use the microwave. When my dish is done, I get it out, grab my drink and…and…

And something goes terribly wrong. It happened so fast that I have no idea what exactly happened. One minute I was walking, the next minute, there was Lean Cuisine all over my shirt and down my front. For those who wear darker colors because they don’t show stains…let me assure you that even the blackest shirt is no match for Lean Cuisine.

I felt my cheeks burn and I am sure I was scarlet. I looked around for anything big and heavy to crawl under. Nope, nothing. There I was, Ms. McClumsy in the break room with Mr. Mcgorgeous.

And as if spilling my lunch all over myself in front of gorgeous man is not enough, then I nearly fall when I slipped over the little bit of said lunch that is on the floor and not on my shirt. Yep. 4′ stilletos and slippery lunches do not mix, in case you ever wondered. The man was very nice and helped me clean it off the floor. He managed not to laugh while I was there, though I am sure that he busted out laughing as soon as I left.

If I have to be clumsy, why can’t it be in front of someone’s grandmother? A nice little old lady? I can hear you laughing. And in life, we must not take ourselves to seriously. We must be willing to laugh at ourselves. Of course for someone as clumsy as I am, laughing at ones self is a daily accurance.

More Confessions

Tonight was a great night. Tonight I reclaimed my house. I cleaned, disinfected, swept and vacuumed. I cleaned all of the remnants of the RMFH (roommate form hell) out of my house.  And it really needed to be done…there were some rather scary things under the bed. The dust bunnies were about to start a war with the tufts of cat hair. It was ugly. I have seen things tonight, horrible things. And then I broke out the bleach.

There is something cathartic about cleaning when someone leaves your life. It is a reclaiming of sorts, and it is closure (yes, I used the C word). Every room smells clean and fresh, even the sheets have been washed. But the best part? I get all my drawer space back!

I have a confession to make. You might want to sit down. I am Drawer/Closet Hog. That’s right…I use all the closet space in a house. Some people hog covers, I hog closet and drawer space. All of it. It’s mine. I have 2 huge closets in the master bedroom and both are overflowing. One with clothes, one with shoes and frilly, lacy delicates. Clothes fill all the drawers in the master suite and there is a full bedroom set in the spare bedroom, which now, once again, are filled with my clothes too.

It is odd that the most exciting thing to me tonight was the fact that I got to use all the drawers in the spare bedroom again?  I am a girl. I love being girly. I love the fact that my house is once again my house. And I love the fact that I am unappologtically a drawer and closet hog. And now, as I sit on my bed with nice, fresh. clean sheets, watching Sex and the City, this city girl needs some sleep.