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.