Just Ramblings

It feels like a lifetime since I've last blogged. My world has been filled to capacity of late, to the point of being over whelmed. Work of course has reached its midyear peak, with more deadlines than I care to count. The weather here has been rain, rain and more rain, which led to the leaking of gutters and the skylight in the kitchen.

Then of course there are the world problems; BP and the Gulf of Mexico oil deluge (you can't call it a spill any longer, it is certainly larger than a glass of milk). Border agents fired upon and killed a 15 year old Mexican (child) citizen trying to come into this country (the land of the free). A local child has been missing since last Friday. I think this one hits the hardest, as a parent I can't imagine the pain of not knowing where your child is and are they well; since last Friday. The one time when my daughter was little that she didn't come directly home after school, (she'd gone to visit a friend) the terror and downright pain I felt until I had her safely in my arms was beyond description. My heart and prayers go out to his parents for his safe return.

Such is my world at the moment, a whirlwind of deadlines, sadness, fear for this country, our world, and one small child.

Work Is Calling....And I Must Answer

I'm going to take a short break this week from blogging.  I will as time permits be stopping by the blogs I follow and keeping up with all of you.  But the remainder of my time will be with the spreadsheets. 

By the way, blessings to the inventor of spreadsheets.  The new 2007 Excel is wonderful.

Have a wonderful week.

Time To Curl Up & Enjoy a Good Book

Finally Saturday we are going to be getting warmer weather.  This has been a cold and very wet spring.  So cold that I've not been able to do much in the garden.  Last night we had frost.  Saturday I'm spending in my garden, planting, weeding and general clean up from the storms. 

 But Friday night I have absolutely one thing planned for the evening. Tucked into an afgan on the sofa, soft down pillows at my back, with a good book, the dog curled by my feet, and a steady stream of soft jazz playing in the background. I intend to stay put for the entire evening, until the dog wakes me up most likely.  In other words....ME time. 

I stopped by the library on the way home this evening and picked up the books I'd reserved earlier in the week.  Dinner has been cooked for tomorrow and all I have to do is warm it. Now I just have to decide which of the books I picked up to start with.  I think I will start with ..........

I wish you all a wonderful weekend.

PEACE

As you can see below I've been having a debate/discussion regarding America and the world.   Much in this world has been done in the name of Religion and in the name of Greed. This is my wish.... Peace for our world.  The rose on the title line of this blog is a rose I grew and photographed.  It's here for a reason.... It is a Peace Rose. 

America Bashing

I recently did something I'm not prone to do. I took offense to a comment posted to another blogs post and commented on it. The actual post was funny; the comment not. The post dealt with two separate encounters on public transit with individual delusions, one most likely mentally ill the other suffering the delusion of a conspiracy theory. The post infused the humor of being trapped with these individuals with concern for their well being. It was well done as always by this blogger. These events took place in Canada, my near neighbors to the north.

The comments by Indian Pundit in their entirety: "Indian Pundit said...

"I have five locks on my front door, but last night the CIA broke into my house and stole my make-up bag."

Hahahahaha......i cannot not stop laughing...

R u sure they are citizens of Canada??

These sort of conspiracy theories are VERY POPULAR with a large section of Americans.
They are just normal Americans who believe in all sorts of conspiracies.

"You know, you must never trust the government. There is a secret underground government, and they run everything, and the government are just puppets."

Actually this gentleman is very normal. It is one of the most popular conspiracy theories in America.

Check it out. You will be SHOCKED:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Illuminati


May 2, 2010 9:51 PM

Indian Pundit said...

It is nothing but a by-product of corporate media and plain stupidity.

Cheers "; are offensive.

I re-read his comments a few times, but still came away with the inference that he feels the majority of Americans have delusional conspiracy theories, the reader should be "SHOCKED" by this, and that we are "plain stupid" and easily swayed by "corporate media".

I am not a flag wavier. I am well aware of this nation’s problems and idiosyncrasies. We are a nation of individuals who have brought with us our cultures, religions, histories, natures, habits and individual points of view; both good and bad. We are a nation that others still bring to our shores their cultures, religions, natures, habits, individual points of view and dreams, both good and bad; to be integrated into our nation.

We have struggled; first for recognition and independence, then unity. We struggle still with tolerance among ourselves. While the idealism of our Constitution and Bill of Rights are commendable, we as a people are NOT perfect. But then what country can claim perfection. We are individuals and as such should be judged on our own merits and foibles, NOT based on a poorly researched impression garnered from Wikipedia.

Yes I'm certain that there are some individuals so disillusioned with the current state of affairs, which are turning to and clinging to a conspiracy theory of one sort or another. It's their coping mechanism. Who am I, and for that matter who are YOU to judge how they are handling the stresses in their individual lives as well as outside stressors. Secondly what harm are they doing to or have done to you with their theories? IP I think you were trying for humor, however, do you pride yourself on humor that belittles others?

For others that like to take pot shots at Americans and their way of life:  As to our style of government, like a great ocean liner we cannot stop and turn on a dime. Each new administration inherits the results of its predecessors' work and ideologies that have been established both in the inner workings of this country and our national policies.

 Remember we came from many countries, probably some from yours.  We came from a place and or time, or political climate, where we could no longer pursue our hopes and dreams, to these shores to start anew. It would behoove the world to remember we are also your sisters and brothers in humanity.

Tracy Chapman - New Beginning

It is time to start over!  I couldn't have said it better than Tracy Chapman does with New Beginnings.

Yes It's Spring In The Great Northwest...Or....I Pray The 40 Ft. Fir Doesn't Crash Down On My Home

It's time to throw open the windows and let the fresh spring air waft blow throughout the house.  The great northwest is under siege at the moment with winds here in the Portland area up to 50 mph.  I'm sitting in my studio/office with the blinds open enjoying a brief moment of sunshine, watching the 40 to 50 foot fir in my back yard sway with the winds.  I'm praying the fir's roots have dug deep into mother earth and that my ceiling doesn't meet floor in a thunderous crash.

I do love storms, the energy swirling around, tugging at my hair and clothes; scrubbing the air clean.  

Palin, Palin, Palin. Shut up and go back to Alaska

You know I actually hate saying I'm a woman with Palin splashed all over the world. I guess I should re-phrase that....I hate saying I'm an American Woman. Sarah Palin is an embarrassment!

I'm actually an American woman who once lived in Alaska. They had a saying in Alaska, it was on signs everywhere, falling out of every other mouth that opened when I first arrived in Alaska, and that saying you ask? "We don't give a damn how they do it in the lower 48." It is a mind set there, of course most of the residents of Alaska were from the "lower 48". A great deal from Texas during the pipeline project. Alaska at the time and seems to be still if Sarah Palin is a representative of an Alaskan woman, prides itself on being a collection of "Unique" individuals. That is all well and good. I'm all for individualism, to a point. For Sarah Palin to stand up and gush her "hokey, folksy" crap mantra, pandering to the fears and prejudices of others and inciting violence steps over the boundaries of individualism into the mindset of a racist.

There is enough violence in this world, without the Sarah Palins and Glen Becks inciting more of it. Whatever happened to sitting down and discussing differences? If they don't like the health care bill, then sit down at the table and constructively discuss options. If you have no options to discuss or you just don't give a damn hoot about the health of the poor in this country, then shut up and let those that do bring this country back to what it should be about "The People", ALL of the people, not just those that can do for themselves.

Sarah...go back to ALASKA...we in the lower 48 do give damn about our country.

I'll be back soon

Things here are a bit frayed. I will be back within the week.

Lost In A Maze

I've been lost in the deadline maze of my work. At times I've felt quite like Alice in wonderland. It is so nice to have the end of this maze in sight.

My sanity has been saved by "puzzling". When work is so hectic, I buy a new puzzle and spread it across the dining table. A few times a night I get up from the computer and columns of figures, go into the dining room and place a piece, then go back to the work I've brought home. My "puzzling" helps get me out of the chair to stretch and lets me focus briefly on something other than numbers.

Work and the puzzle have progressed to near completion and I actually have some time for myself to catch up with all the wonderful blogs that I've missed and to post again.

Thank you Canada ;)

Canada you are a remarkable country and people. I've so enjoyed these Olympic games, and the insights on A Majority of Two's blog on her view of Vancouver and the games. Thank you Jo, while I was swamped with deadlines you kept me up to date.

If there were a medal for being hosts Canada would be awarded GOLD! Congratulations on your athletes GOLD!

I Climbed To New Heights

Quite literally! I spent the glorious weekend not in my backyard but on a ladder cleaning out the gutters of my patio roof. I had quite the argument with myself (it's age, and I'm sticking to it) about the fun of gardening and playing in the soil, or the responsibility to my home. Getting done what needed to be done and was forgotten in the preparing for winter. I lost, responsible won!

I HATE ladders, I'm not good with heights, so it was an adventure. Have any of you cleaned a gutter...in one word YUCK!!! While I love digging in the soil, that found on my patio roof and in its gutters was not soil: moss, slime and whatever else that had been blown around and deposited on my roof, branches, decomposed leaves, bugs.

The day started with organization, (I am an accountant). Line up the tools needed, easy enough; it's all in the garden shed. The standard, buckets, a trowel, garden gloves (I had to go out and purchase those, I love my hands in the soil), rake, hoe, hose, nozzle and of course the ladder.

It was lovely out, and the dog wanted to come play on the patio while I worked. Mandy is a mini schnauzer. Any of you who have known, or have schnauzers, know how vocal they can be. Mandy is no exception. She is in a word a "Barker", adorable, well behaved otherwise, a great but mouthy companion. I hooked her up on her out door lead. I grabbed the ladder, buckets, gloves, trowel and headed to the edge of the patio. I carefully lined up everything in the order I thought I might need it in. Then placed the ladder and took the first hesitant step on to it.

Did the world just tilt, or am I sinking? Oh this is Oregon and it rains a lot...hmm back to the garden shed looking for bricks to help level out the area and a sufficiently sized board to distribute the weight so the ladder won't sink.

Now I was sure that I had everything at hand and was ready to get this done in an hour! (stop laughing) I positioned the ladder on the board, tested it on the first step and then climbed up, and up and up. Wow that cedar needs trimming, looks like a dead branch. Back to the matter at hand I reached around to pick up the rake and found I was grasping air....then looked down. It had fallen down and lay flat on the ground. I climbed back down picked it up and made my way back up the ladder.

I made some headway raking the material down towards the gutter where I could grab it and fling it into the bucket attached to the ladder. I worked at the raking for a half an hour and had accomplished a quarter of the roof. I needed a break, down the ladder I went, into the house for a Pepsi for me and a dog treat for Mandy.

Back up the ladder I picked up the trowel and discovered IT was wider than the gutter…..I needed something with a hook to scoop the gunk towards me and into the bucket. Standard sized tools were not designed for narrow gutters. That was ok, I could make what I needed. That took a bit more scrounging, and an odd assortment of things, duct tape (where would the world be without duct tape), wire coat hangers, an expandable pole, pliers to bend the coat hangers.
With my new tool in hand I climbed yet again, back up the ladder.

My neighbors were enjoying the day as well, and now they were all out talking to each other, and walking their dogs. I reached out with my newly made specialized tool and dragged the gunk back towards me .... woof, Woof, WOOOOOF,HOWLLLLLLLLLLLLL. It startled me so much I almost fell off the ladder, grabbed onto the gutter and steadied myself while Mandy greeted all standing at the base of my sidewalk watching me attempt to remain sane. Down the ladder across the patio, waving hi to my neighbors, unhooked Mandy and took her in the house, muttering to myself about nosey neighbors and noisy dogs (walking by this time on feet not meant for ladders).

The bush that was blocking my ladder for the second half of the patio roof has been trimmed. No I didn't cut it down, but it is smaller. My gutters shine (well they are clean)and now have specially cut mesh guards installed. It only took me two days (laughing at my only an hour thoughts)! One could say my weekend had it's ups and downs. I'm so glad to be back on solid ground,blogging and catching up with all of you on your blogs ;)

Spring? Dreaming of Gardening

Our forecast is for "April" weather the next few days. It's only mid February!! Now if I just had the next few days off. Last weekend between house work and home work, I got out my seed catalogs and gardening magazines. I'm just itching to plop down in the middle of my backyard, dig into the soil and run my hands through it.

My love of gardening is a gift from my Grandmother. I spent many warm sunny days when I was little, digging and weeding in her large garden. On winters visits, she would get out her notebook and seed catalogs and ponder what we would plant in the spring. The vegetable garden and flower beds, the cutting garden.

I've been walking my backyard the last couple of nights when I get home, designing in my head. A small drift of astilbe and hostas at the edge of the fir in dappled shade, closer to the trunk of the fir, a curved bench with hostas on either side. I'd like to sprinkle trillium here and there in the shady half of my yard. The yard had been landscaped at one time I'm sure. Some of the structure is still there, some of it will be removed to make room for my studio. But the forsythia, lilacs and rhododendrons will stay. The boxwood and azaleas,old and scruffy, will go. It will be a full spring and summer. Now if I could just import firefly's for the summer evenings, and still it's only February.

To Kindle or Not To Kindle

I'm a reader. I LOVE reading. I carry a book or two or three with me at all times. At least two reside in my car, one in my briefcase and one is always tucked in a drawer at work (not that I ever read at work, who has the time) but for that occasional lunch hour that I have nothing to do, no personal or work errands, left my netbook at home, etc. Because of this habit of salting my areas with books, I am generally reading three or four books at a time. Recently a friend who also reads a great deal, asked me what I thought of the new readers for electronic books, specifically Amazons Kindle.

I love the idea of electronic books. Immediate gratification! Cringe...I know I do lean towards that more and more, perhaps its age or time availability. I wouldn't have to drive at lunch over to XXXXXXs Books (one of my favorite bookstores here in the Portland Metro area), dash around to find something new by the authors I read. Or a new author, which requires browsing time or at least one cell phone call to my daughter digging for anyone she's run across that she likes or thinks I would like, while hanging on to my bag and the books I've already found. If she hasn't any suggestions then another call to a close friend, and little time spent reading that lunch. With the Kindle I could sit at my desk download new books on it while working on spreadsheets, then go find a shady spot, set my cell alarm for an hour (otherwise I would read the afternoon away) and read. When done bookmark the place and tuck it into my briefcase and go back to work.

Sounds great...but then.....I love to hold a book, its weight, turn the pages, dog ear the pages where I left off, (and now you all will cringe) open the book and crack the spine. And what about falling asleep with an electronic reader? I've definately fallen asleep with books (not that the book was boring). What would happen to an electronic reader if you drooled on it, (Laughing), rolled over on it, or knocked it off the bed? Of course an electronic reader I don't suppose weighs much, so I wouldn't have to worry about flattening my nose as books have often almost done as I fell asleep reading. Another thing, a trip to a bookstore when I can take time and browse, soak up the atmosphere, meet friends, discuss books, is something I enjoy. A quick dash to an online bookstore and downloading doesn't seem to have the same ambiance.

I thought about other types of reading I do, newspapers and magazines. I can go to the Oregonian online anytime and it's free, but I love my newspaper on the weekends. Getting up Sunday morning and sitting on the patio with a cup of tea and the newspaper is my Sunday ritual. I recycle my newspapers, some go out to the recycle bin, some line the debris trays of my parrots cages. I love getting my magazines and turning the glossy pages, reading, even turning to page 98 to finish the article.

The other thing about any electronic reader is the ability to lend or share books. I purchase a great deal of books, when I have to start looking for places to put them (the bookcases are full and now so is under the bed) I "clean house" so to speak and sort through books, box them up and haul them to work. We have a bookcase in the ladies lounge for our lending library. I donate books, I pass books on to friends and even box them up and send them to my daughter.

After the discussion with my friend, we both came to the conclusion that we love our printed books. I will look into a reader, my friend, not to sure about them. A reader would tuck easily into my briefcase and would hold more than one book and Icould leave my books at home. A call to my daughter to get her opinion on electronic readers surprised me, into all the latest, she twitters, or is that tweets?, is on FB, blogs, texts, etc., it seems that she's not sure about electronic readers either. She did say that she has downloaded some books onto her laptop, but for the price of an electronic book device she would rather get a netbook.

So my question to those of you who do Kindle: How do you like it? Is it all you hoped for? Storage capacity? Book availability? I'm sure this would be a NO but, lending ability?

To those of you that haven't, To Kindle or Not To Kindle?

Lucy and Ethel

As a child I loved the I Love Lucy sitcom. Lucy and Ethel were the epitome of true friendship. For all their squabbles and misadventures neither ever let the other down in the long run. I've been so fortunate in my life to have had such friends. I've often felt like I was living in a I Love Lucy show. I'm not sure how I got there but the circumstances always seem to balance on a fine line between tragic and comedic. Various friends and I have swapped back and forth the rolls of Lucy and Ethel.

One memorable incident I was Ethel to a friends Lucy. It was late one evening when the phone rang, much later than one should be calling. My daughter, a teenager at the time, was in her room safe at home. I hesitated to pick up the phone, until I saw it was a call from the "Smiths" home. My friend (I'll call her Alice) was working there. Alice's life was filled to capacity. She's a single mother like myself but her daughter was grown, and lived with her. Alice is a wonderful woman and great with kids. She was a foster parent for "Therapeutic" foster children. Her home was their last hope to live as close to a normal life as possible, if they failed there, their next place would be an institution. She worked very hard. Her only respite was her daughter who had been approved to care for them when Alice needed a break.

It was near Christmas and the child in Alice's home wanted a computer for Christmas. Alice heard about it day and night, but it just wasn't in the budget. One of Alice's other friends called to see if Alice would help out temporarily care taking her elderly mother in the evenings (when Alice's daughter could be with her charge). The friend needed a break and would be taking an art class at night for a couple of hours. It seemed the ideal way to find the extra money for the computer. The elderly mother had advanced alzheimer's. The family had warned Alice that their Mother was quite cranky. They didn't tell her that she smoked like a chimney.

I picked up the phone, Alice was frantic, her voice muffled. All I got was " Smiths", come quick. I called to my daughter that I was going out and would call her as soon as I got to the Smiths. The streets were slick with rain. It was raining buckets, so much for a white Christmas I thought. I finally arrived at the house Alice had called from. I got to the door and rang the bell. Alice yelled come in it's unlocked. That in its self was strange, the door should have been locked.

I stepped into the house and stood there shocked, then almost fell down laughing. The family had purchased an older hospital bed and moved it into the living room for their mother so that she could see out. Before me "Mrs. Smith" lay in her hospital bed sound asleep, but there was a definate downward slant to that bed. Underneath the bed lay Alice, trapped. Alice was alternately laughing and crying. "Ok Ethel" she said...get me out of here. I pulled myself together and tried to see how to get Alice out from under the bed.

While I was tugging and pulling and lifting the end of the mattress Alice filled me in on HOW she got there. Alice is allergic to smoke and Mrs. Smiths house reeked of smoke. I was trying hard NOT to breathe. Alice said her eyes were watering from coughing so she stepped out on the porch for a minute to get a breath of air while Mrs. Smith was sleeping (or so she thought). Mrs. Smith, it seems, decided to play with the crank at the end of the bed. When Alice came back in she hurridly got Mrs. Smith back in bed then set about tiding up the covers, then she noticed that the bed was slanting slightly. She tried the crank but it was stuck. Alice crawled under the bed to unstick the crank and it fell lose from the bed which then slanted further, trapping her under it. It was lucky that the phone was near the bed, she pulled it off the table by the cord and called me. With me holding the bed frame up, Alice managed to get the crank back into the slot and crawled out. After we checked on Mrs. Smith, who slept through the entire ordeal, cranked the bed up and made sure it was stable, we sat on the floor laughing, while Mrs. Smith snored peacefully.

Christmas morning under the tree at Alice's house was a box with a very good used computer in it. Alice resigned from elderly care taking, she mutter for months that they were harder than children. I still laugh today at our trying to get Alice out from under that bed.

A Delicate Subject: Consideration For Others: Flush and Move On: Get Off Your Cell and Stop Texting:

How to put this delicately? Have you ever gone tent camping? Invariably you camp next to another campsite that is totally unaware that they are in a "TENT", a fabric structure and not a structure of solid (somewhat)sound proof walls. I spend a great deal of the time camping just blushing with embarrassment for the campers around them and the offending campers themselves. (This was the lead in for the topic, a delicate approach.)

There is another place where consideration for others would be most appreciated. I work in an office with about 30 female employees; there are TWO stalls in the Ladies restroom. We are privileged in that we have a lounge as well, furnished with a sofa and end tables, lamps included. A much better place to carry on a conversation or text with wayward or argumentative family/friend/relationship members. NOT the STALL. I've been that person that required use of one of them, just to open the door from the lounge and find both doors closed, voices (not talking to each other) or the click, click of texting. When finally there's a free stall, I've heard the doors open the grumble and sigh and the door bang closed...another desperate woman. This happens in public restrooms all the time as well. There are NEVER enough stalls. And WHY the need to text or use the cell phone in the restroom???? Aren't they afraid to drop it? I actually had a friend do just that, and that presents a whole other quandry...how to get the cell out of there! I don't recommend flushing, it causes a tidal wave of events, as a friend found out.

Since I've gotten this far, I might as well continue with the embarassment issue. Stalls in and of themselves are the site of embarassing situations. I know not to eat garlic infused foods, but sometimes I just can't refuse, neither can others. I wind up choking back giggles on both sides of that fence. I've never figured out why I get the giggles. I've been known to giggle at the most inappropriate times, funerals, the hushed silence in church between words, often when the Pastor is about to lead in prayer or just following the AMEN, and there is a huge BURP or "Fluff" as my Mother would have put it. Mostly it's embarrassment for the other person, or the timing is just right and it strikes my funny bone, which seems to be either well developed or just plain juvenile. In self defense I grew up in a straight laced "Ladies never "fluff", nor should they ever acknowledge them" type of home. Yes my sitting posture is excellent as well. The giggling must be my overdeveloped sense of rebellion, or empathy.

To conclude, I'll try not to giggle, please respond in kind when I shouldn't have endeavored at lunch, dinner, snack, etc. And PLEASE use your cell phone and text where you won't create any more desperate women. Those of you that still tent camp in this world of motor homes, please carry on as usual, but, keep in mind that you're in a FABRIC tent and that EVERYONE around you hears it all.

Thank you

A most grateful giggler ;)

The Post That Got Sidetracked

A post idea smacked me right in the middle of reviewing an updated retirement contract. Which is one of the most boring items to read (legaleeeeeeeeeeese), late this afternoon. I restrained myself, finished the review process, downed my computer, locked my door and drove home, mind in overdrive (thoughts and ideas for the post). I ran in, deposited coat, bag and briefcase in my home office. Took the dog for the shortest of runs, returned to my computer, just itching to get going..but I just needed that special piece of music or artwork.

I tabbed my way to YouTube...and got lost in the music: Eartha, Ella, Billy, Sarah, Dinah Washington: Ain't Misbehavin, What Difference A Day Makes, Santa Baby,'Taint Nobody's Business If I Do, One Note Samba, Good Morning Heartache, Summertime, This Bitter Earth. Wandered over to Tracy Chapman, The Promise, Telling Stories. On to Gershwin's Rhapsody In Blue (I think this is my all time favorite piece of music that or Summertime, my lullaby as a child).

Music and creating art have always stopped time for me. I lose myself and the world in them. It was a lovely evening, wonderful music and the memories that flowed with the music and this different Post. Good night all, pleasant dreams.

"Monday, Monday...Can't Trust That Day"

Here's to abolishing Mondays....Universally! "Every other day, every other day
Every other day of the week is fine...." OK, I promise not to sing for the rest of this post, even if I'm loving this old Mamas & Papas tune ;). It has been a MONDAY!

Saturday you are busy with household matters, laundry, vacuuming, shopping and cooking. Sunday (sigh) a day of rest and leisure. You are relaxed, dreamily sublime, and then you walk into your office or workplace on Monday and it is off to the race again. It is a shock to ones system, it should be outlawed! Just think....an extra SUNDAY in every week. Another day to relax, pursue your interests. It should be taken to the people for a vote! Signs and banners made, people gathered in front of all work places, waving banners, chanting "NO MORE MONDAYS..... NO MORE MONDAYS" Errrr......... well .......... ummm ............ not, huh? Sigh, well just a dream...no more mondays, no more mondays.....

What would You do with another Sunday every week?

Been Crazy And It Did Not Look Good!

This weekend January ends....On Sunday in fact. January 31st, 2010! The first BIG hurdle has been jumped, completed and now on Monday it can be filed in expanding folders and locked away, but it made for a couple of CRAZY weeks. Yes crazy, not just a little nuts. I've been putting in 10 to 12 hour days between the office and what I dragged home in my briefcase. The year of 2009 has been internally audited, tugged, pulled, prodded and pushed around, every dangling thread has been unraveled and traversed. Chaos reigned, and then the sorting and ordering of data into concise, precise informational statements and returns..ahhhh...I love the calm after the storm (to borrow a phrase)! Well perhaps I should put it more as the calm of the eye of the storm, but one of the major crazies has been put to bed.

Now I can BLOG again!!! I can see becoming addicted to this blogosphere. I'm certainly addicted to the blogs I'm following, and yes I did take minutes here and there to peak into them and I loved them. Some are thought provoking, others are whimsical and funny, some uplifting, some nostalgic, some are full of beautiful photography and some make crazy look good! I would love to learn to do that (make crazy look good), during these times I always feel that I look like I stuck my finger in a light socket! Each blog I follow added something nice to my weeks of crazy. Thank you.

Genteel Ladies - Ms. Lila

I have a neighbor that I adore. She is in her mid to late eighties and is elfin in stature. Petite and fine boned, but with a personality the size of Texas. I really must mind my manners when speaking with her; it could be misconstrued if I were to break out giggling. But giggling is just what she inspires.

This well mannered woman has reached the stage in life that allows her to speak her mind. Have any of you read "When I Grow Old I Will Wear Purple." by Jenny Joseph? Ms. Lila has taken up the spirit of the poem, I've never witnessed her pressing alarm bells, but I wouldn't be surprised to hear of it. The restraints of her early life have been lifted and she seems delighted to wield shock value. I'm quite sure she is well aware of how contrasting it is to her delicate appearance.

Shortly after I moved into my home I met Ms. Lila. Myself and a few friends were taking a break on the patio from painting. Ms. Lila stepped out of her house waving hello and proceeded to introduce herself and welcome us "girls" to the neighborhood. Her voice is soft, her welcome warm and cultured, and then...."By the way which one of you owns the house and chose that color?" We looked at each other not sure what to expect, I stepped forward and said it was me, and that I was very pleased to meet her. "Why I just LOVE it, its bumble bee YELLOW!!! That old house hasn't been painted in the 16 years I've lived here. It was just atrocious, and that WOMAN had breakfast on her patio every morning," The patio is nice, it has a lovely view of the street and neighbors, I well could see myself with a cup of tea every morning and reading the paper. "in nothing but panties and a sheer nightie." Now I live in a quiet neighborhood, but I was beginning to doubt my purchase slightly. With that she waved good bye so we could get back to painting my home its soft butter cream yellow (who knew butter cream yellow could be seen as bumble bee yellow and that the former owner of my home .... ummm ..... had decidedly liberal wardrobe choices for dining on the patio).

Ms. Lila continues to be a delight, one day while we were visiting in the yard she reached up and adjusted her wig. I was trying not to notice, but she was having none of that. "I've worn a wig for 35 years. Lost every hair on my head." Oh, its lovely I replied as if I hadn't known it was a wig. It is bronze in color, perfectly styled at all times (although it can slip a little now and then) and about 4 times to big for her delicate face. She stood there smoking her cigarette, a perfect dramatic Betty Davis. "I'm seeing my Doctor this afternoon. I'm always under the weather it seems. I was so worried that they would require I give up smoking. My doctor said I had the right to choose, quality over quantity. Of course quality. Well dear I have to get ready; my daughter will be picking me up shortly. Have a lovely afternoon." I did. And Ms. Lila, I wish you many many years of lovely afternoons. I'm delighted you're my neighbor!

What Makes You Feel Like You're At Home?

I mentioned in my last post that I was obsessed with "Nesting". I have been obsessed with it, my house is sparkly, not a dust mote can be found, the floors are spotless, magazines, books, Cd's and DVDs are in order. And yet, there is something amiss. Several months ago I ended a relationship, started looking to purchase a home and move. I found an older "fixer" with hidden potential, just the right size (until I saw the boxes I'd packed), purchased it and moved. Which in and of its self was a project, two blue crown conures and a mini schnauzer have almost as much "stuff", and personal needs as I do. I spent the last sunny warm days of September painting the outside of the house, cleaning up the shrubs and looking at the possibilities for gardening and landscaping next spring and summer. Then I moved inside and did the most important room for me, my office/studio. The rest of the house was unpacked and I began "living" in my new house.

This afternoon, after I'd spent the morning on work from the office, I was basking in the stillness, content with all that I had accomplished. I got up and wandered from room to room, poking my head into cupboards and closets, looking for something. Home. I was looking for home. Not the house or person I left, but my home. It dawned on me that this is the first time in a long time that I am able to create a home entirely of my own. I was widowed 20 years ago, and I raised our daughter on my own. The banter of children and friends filled the hours, days and our home. It was not always the neatest, sparkly-est place but it was always "warm". A nest.

My obsession with nesting lately I've discovered for me, is not about how orderly my house is but about the quality and graciousness of "home". This brought up for me what is "Nesting", and what constitutes "Home". I spent several hours delving into the internet trying to define nesting and the psychology of nesting. No I'm NOT pregnant, which is about all one can find on the internet regarding the nesting instinct. There are also several articles regarding "empty nesting", not exactly on track either. That is a sort of " been there done that", my daughter was away at college for several years, graduated and is now happily married to a wonderful man. She is an intelligent, fulfilled individual that I'm quite proud of. My life is full with friends, when I make the time (they all understand my crunch at the new year), so it is not the need to interact and socialize. It is the need to "Nest" or create a home.

I'm amazed at all the possibilities that lay ahead of me in creating my new home, my nest. But I'm also intrigued with this instinct to nest. Have any of you had this feeling of needing to nest? What makes you feel like you're at home? What is the difference between a house and a home for you?

Crazy Making

Recently it was mentioned, that any friend of a certian friend of mine "has to be at least a little bit nuts". I agree, and in my defense the following:

Now I know that everyone has "DEADLINES". There are numerous must dos by a certian time that we all bend to or suffer the consequences, bills (this is a given, unless you don't care about your credit), shopping sales (must take advantage of that sale...or buy at full price the day after), our self imposed I'm going to do by a certian time (resolutions) that we more than likely don't do (the consequence? One carries the weight, remains in a bad relationship, continues to smoke, etc.) TAXES and WORK. This is my madness....I'm an accountant.

Tis the season for all good Accountants to indulge in insanity! Of course there isn't ANY SEASON that we don't indulge in insanity, but this time of year is especially crazy making. Because of the pressures we tend to over do, add to and create more havoc for ourselves, most in the name of relaxing. Hence, I've just started blogging during the most deadline dense time of year. I've become obsessed with "Nesting" (the house has to sparkle) and I need to repair, spackle and paint the interior.

SIDENOTE: Those of you who aren't accountants are just as guilty..."The Holidays" I just know there are others out there that over did or bit off more than they could chew regarding the "HOLIDAYS" and are now just beginning to even think about relaxing. And "mistletoe-ing", marathon shopping and Ho, Ho, Ho-ing aren't just a little nuts?

When my daughter was younger I took her along with me, literally, when I had deadlines looming and I needed to work long hours, I would pick her up from school, grab take out and go back to the office with her. She learned to file and could use a ten key by the time she was 11. Needless to say her degrees are NOT in accounting, and she keeps hinting that she could recommend a compentent shrink.

Now is the time to prepare: quarterlies, year end data and file file file the corporate taxes. Prepare seems to be such a simple quiet word, calming, "being prepared" is so, hmmm....., soothing. It is the getting to that stage that is nerve wracking, as the dreaded DEADLINES loom.

So I agree, I can be just a little nuts, my defense....Tis just the season ;)

Welcome

I am totally new to blogging, a friend has blogged for years on and off. She is the reason I've decided to try my hand at this. I would suspect that this blog will be as diversified as my interests.

I must admit though, I failed at "diaries" when a teenager, journals as I grew older, always afraid it would be read, I'd be discovered (the internal me). Or perhaps leery that I should discover me. I'm delighted to have left that phase behind. The awkward, geekie me (and yes NOW "geekie" is the thing).

I'm a woman about to arrive at the end of middle age. By the way, who or what defines middle age? The U.S Census Bureau? Society? Chronological years? Maturity? I've been told that life expectancy in 2010 is 80 plus for a woman. Then middle would be 40? By that standard I'm past middle age. Is it exuberance for life? If so then I'm 20. Is it ones body or state of mind?

Or...are we as humans always sliding between ages. My blogger friend is a "Mature" woman, intellegent,irreverent,funny and satirical. Yet...she has this ability to shed years and be 4; small, playful and even needful. Her four year old draws tenderness from those near her. She seems to galvinize women into mothers or playmates. I envy her ability to fully immerse herself in the age of 4. Try it sometime, it's not as easy as it sounds. Your mission should you decide to accept it, is to be 4 for an entire day. This message will self destruct in 30 seconds.....29,28,27,26.... (lord I've just aged myself).

Welcome to my musings, I hope you visit often.