According to flight tracker, our flights are a go and on time, departing at 10, layover in Charlotte, then on to New York.
I didn't sleep at all last night, not one wink--so I'm hoping to snooze between SA and Charlotte. I asked Jan to poke me if I snore, and I'm quite sure she will.
We've had drizzles of rain all night, but nothing to write home about.
We're off!
Sunday, August 27, 2017
Saturday, August 26, 2017
The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry
This is for you, Victoria, most of all--and for all you book lovers. I'm three chapters short of finishing this delightful novel and I like it so much I hope to find other books by Gabrielle Zevin.
Each chapter of A.J. Fikry's life begins with a book review--as he is a bookseller on Alice Island (probably Nantucket or Martha's Vineyard, Linda Kot.) The entire novel is artfully written in the present tense and it's such a pleasure to read!
For all of you who like to watch series you can get lost in, be sure to see La Esclava Blanca on Netflix. It takes place in the 1800s in Columbia and is primarily the story of a baby (now young woman) named Victoria. The photography, settings and clothing--all are beautiful. You'll fall in love with some of the characters as I have.
A disclaimer from Gerlinde who's on episode 42 (and doesn't want it to end): "The characters are noble, beautiful, despicable, fascinating --- on and on. But be forewarned - some scenes of punishment are difficult to watch and some I literally had to move past!"
Each chapter of A.J. Fikry's life begins with a book review--as he is a bookseller on Alice Island (probably Nantucket or Martha's Vineyard, Linda Kot.) The entire novel is artfully written in the present tense and it's such a pleasure to read!
For all of you who like to watch series you can get lost in, be sure to see La Esclava Blanca on Netflix. It takes place in the 1800s in Columbia and is primarily the story of a baby (now young woman) named Victoria. The photography, settings and clothing--all are beautiful. You'll fall in love with some of the characters as I have.
A disclaimer from Gerlinde who's on episode 42 (and doesn't want it to end): "The characters are noble, beautiful, despicable, fascinating --- on and on. But be forewarned - some scenes of punishment are difficult to watch and some I literally had to move past!"
An email gift from Pam this morning:
"Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way."
- Viktor Frankl
And Frankl should know.
In his book Man’s Search for Meaning, he describes the experience of arriving at a concentration camp in Nazi Germany. He is immediately stripped of everything he has, his hair is shaved, and he is left to stand in a room of similarly affected people -- some strangers, others he’d known all his life.
It is at that moment that Frankl has the realization that even though everything -- his possessions, his family, his dignity -- had been taken away from him, he still had the power choose how he would react to the situation in front of him.
This is an extreme example, but it’s a reminder that painful moments in life are inevitable, but the way we react to them is always our choice.
We can react to them in a way that amplifies the pain or we can respond in a way that allows us to learn or take steps in a better direction.
Pain is inevitable but suffering is not.
Saturday
I woke up this morning to a soft rain, gentle wind, and puffs of crepe myrtle pink scattered on the grass, a nature party!
I stayed up late watching Trevor Noah, a Saturday Night rendition of 45 in Phoenix, and La Esclava Blanca, on which I'm hooked. Gerlinde tells me there are 62 episodes, so I will return to Columbia and these beautiful people of the 1800s when I return from Connecticut. As far as I know, having no TV to tell me otherwise, the flight is still on for tomorrow!
Edward stayed late, too, to hang a few of my coconut masks and finish the painting, and I'm so happy with the results of this summer-long project!
I have a framed picture of my daddy fishing when he was way younger than I am now--and other pictures will find their ways to the walls when I return from the trip, then I'm calling it done. A dining room rug will be delivered while I'm gone. I hope this is The One--as seven other wanna be rugs didn't make the cut. I'm pretty sure it is.
Finding The One in a rug is about as hard as finding The One Man or The One House for house-shoppers. But I found my One Little House twenty years ago and it's been a love match from the start. Unlike men and other human beings and myself, it's always here, its quirks are fixable and it loves attention.
Freda came over for a breezy visit on the porch this morning and introduced me to CLASSICAL STRETCH--a yoga alternative that I'm looking forward to starting, watching the teacher on YouTube.
The bougainvillea is so beautiful, a burst of bright pink that drapes over my driveway like a big umbrella. It needs trimming, but I hate to diminish it right now, even to get into the driveway--it was a gift from Kate years ago and this is its prettiest year.
A beautiful day in the neighborhood--just crossing my fingers that the flight will happen tomorrow!
But first--as always--a nap.
I stayed up late watching Trevor Noah, a Saturday Night rendition of 45 in Phoenix, and La Esclava Blanca, on which I'm hooked. Gerlinde tells me there are 62 episodes, so I will return to Columbia and these beautiful people of the 1800s when I return from Connecticut. As far as I know, having no TV to tell me otherwise, the flight is still on for tomorrow!
Edward stayed late, too, to hang a few of my coconut masks and finish the painting, and I'm so happy with the results of this summer-long project!
I have a framed picture of my daddy fishing when he was way younger than I am now--and other pictures will find their ways to the walls when I return from the trip, then I'm calling it done. A dining room rug will be delivered while I'm gone. I hope this is The One--as seven other wanna be rugs didn't make the cut. I'm pretty sure it is.
Finding The One in a rug is about as hard as finding The One Man or The One House for house-shoppers. But I found my One Little House twenty years ago and it's been a love match from the start. Unlike men and other human beings and myself, it's always here, its quirks are fixable and it loves attention.
Freda came over for a breezy visit on the porch this morning and introduced me to CLASSICAL STRETCH--a yoga alternative that I'm looking forward to starting, watching the teacher on YouTube.
The bougainvillea is so beautiful, a burst of bright pink that drapes over my driveway like a big umbrella. It needs trimming, but I hate to diminish it right now, even to get into the driveway--it was a gift from Kate years ago and this is its prettiest year.
A beautiful day in the neighborhood--just crossing my fingers that the flight will happen tomorrow!
But first--as always--a nap.
Friday, August 25, 2017
Harvey
San Antonio is preparing to take evacuees from the coast and there are long lines at the grocery store. So far, it's only cloudy and cool, not much rain.
Saturday and Sunday are predicted to be the days of heavy rain. Thanks to all of you from far away who are calling and emailing and checking on us. For the sake of Will and his firefighters, I'm just hoping no one tries (as they do every rainfall) to cross a low-water crossing. Water rescues are particularly hazardous for the firefighters.
As for the rest of us, we're just stocking up on essentials and hoping it won't rival the flood of 1998. The grocery store lines are long, the gas lines are long--and just in case the electricity goes out, I'm using up stuff in my freezer and making spaghetti and turkey sauce for me and some for Edward to take home.
Betty, remember 1998? You were here when we got flooded in with plumbing problems the week of my 50th birthday! Come back!
Saturday and Sunday are predicted to be the days of heavy rain. Thanks to all of you from far away who are calling and emailing and checking on us. For the sake of Will and his firefighters, I'm just hoping no one tries (as they do every rainfall) to cross a low-water crossing. Water rescues are particularly hazardous for the firefighters.
As for the rest of us, we're just stocking up on essentials and hoping it won't rival the flood of 1998. The grocery store lines are long, the gas lines are long--and just in case the electricity goes out, I'm using up stuff in my freezer and making spaghetti and turkey sauce for me and some for Edward to take home.
Betty, remember 1998? You were here when we got flooded in with plumbing problems the week of my 50th birthday! Come back!
Thursday, August 24, 2017
Harvey the Hurricane Watch
As we watch news of Harvey's impending landfall, Jan and I are packing for a trip to Connecticut to visit Lorraine. Weather permitting, we will fly out on Sunday.
While there, we'll be celebrating Jan's birthday and getting to know Lorraine's other home--and we are SO excited!
Due to predictions of chilly weather, I borrowed Pam's larger suitcase for the trip so I will have room to pack a jacket. I'm pretty sure I have a jacket, though it's been ages since I've needed one.
When I went to pick up the suitcase today, I saw a rug in her living room that Lorraine had once given me and that I passed on to Pam when I began changing my color scheme. There you go--the circle goes unbroken, as the song says: Lorraine's rug is beautiful in Pam's house and Pam's suitcase will accompany me to Lorraine's house!
Last week, Kate hosted a delicious brunch for the Drop-Outs--Kate, Charlotte, Gerlinde, and me--and while there, Gerlinde told us about a telenovela she's hooked on and I'm closing out my night enjoying episode three on Netflix: La Esclava Blanca.
We got a bit of rain today, but are expecting a possible deluge tomorrow and possibly Saturday. Will and his crew are doing additional training in hurricane rescue maneuvers, and I'm hoping that Harvey surprises the weather forecasters and peters out before it hits land in Corpus.
While there, we'll be celebrating Jan's birthday and getting to know Lorraine's other home--and we are SO excited!
Due to predictions of chilly weather, I borrowed Pam's larger suitcase for the trip so I will have room to pack a jacket. I'm pretty sure I have a jacket, though it's been ages since I've needed one.
When I went to pick up the suitcase today, I saw a rug in her living room that Lorraine had once given me and that I passed on to Pam when I began changing my color scheme. There you go--the circle goes unbroken, as the song says: Lorraine's rug is beautiful in Pam's house and Pam's suitcase will accompany me to Lorraine's house!
Last week, Kate hosted a delicious brunch for the Drop-Outs--Kate, Charlotte, Gerlinde, and me--and while there, Gerlinde told us about a telenovela she's hooked on and I'm closing out my night enjoying episode three on Netflix: La Esclava Blanca.
We got a bit of rain today, but are expecting a possible deluge tomorrow and possibly Saturday. Will and his crew are doing additional training in hurricane rescue maneuvers, and I'm hoping that Harvey surprises the weather forecasters and peters out before it hits land in Corpus.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CARLENE!
She's been telling people she's 92 for months, so today it's finally true and official!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my seemingly ageless, flexible, fun-loving mama!
She drove to Athens--forty miles, the city where I was born once upon a time when my daddy was a student at UGA--and had lunch with Bob, Jocelyn and Mary Elizabeth.
I'm wondering if she's going to sleep in that crown--on top of her toilet paper wrap.....
So glad you had such a great birthday, Carlene--lunch in Athens and dinner with the neighbors. Let the party continue all year!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my seemingly ageless, flexible, fun-loving mama!
She drove to Athens--forty miles, the city where I was born once upon a time when my daddy was a student at UGA--and had lunch with Bob, Jocelyn and Mary Elizabeth.
 |
| Carlene and my favorite and only niece, Mary Elizabeth who has just moved into her first house of her own.... |
So glad you had such a great birthday, Carlene--lunch in Athens and dinner with the neighbors. Let the party continue all year!
Tuesday, August 22, 2017
A perfect birthday present!
Two days before Carlene's 92nd birthday:
For weeks now, maybe months, my brother Bob has been working with Gwinnett County on a plan to dedicate a walking and nature trail at Tribble Mill Park to our dad. Building Tribble Mill was his last of many projects in the county and it means so much to our family!
Carlene just found out this morning--I've had to keep the secret for weeks--and she said she cried for three hours, she's so happy.
Day and I already have flights arranged to be there for the dedication service in September, and Will may go as well, depending on whether or not he can take off that weekend.
When she got back from her three-mile walk this morning, a county commissioner came to give her the news--and she said it's the "best birthday present" ever.
For weeks now, maybe months, my brother Bob has been working with Gwinnett County on a plan to dedicate a walking and nature trail at Tribble Mill Park to our dad. Building Tribble Mill was his last of many projects in the county and it means so much to our family!
Carlene just found out this morning--I've had to keep the secret for weeks--and she said she cried for three hours, she's so happy.
Day and I already have flights arranged to be there for the dedication service in September, and Will may go as well, depending on whether or not he can take off that weekend.
When she got back from her three-mile walk this morning, a county commissioner came to give her the news--and she said it's the "best birthday present" ever.
Living the Questions
When I get a flare of fibro, it comes with a flare of the blues--or is it vice versa? Which one triggers the other?
When inflammation occurs in the body or mind, it literally feels like a small internal fire, a flare-up.
A wise friend reminded me that a "flare is also a type of "pyrotechnic that produces a brilliant light or intense heat without an explosion. Flares are used for signaling....The body is signaling when emotional wounds translate to physical pain."
WOW! I said out loud when I read that.
Instead of just putting out the fire with ibuprofen, we'd do well to pay close attention to the signals and ask, "What are you trying to tell me?"
When inflammation occurs in the body or mind, it literally feels like a small internal fire, a flare-up.
A wise friend reminded me that a "flare is also a type of "pyrotechnic that produces a brilliant light or intense heat without an explosion. Flares are used for signaling....The body is signaling when emotional wounds translate to physical pain."
WOW! I said out loud when I read that.
Instead of just putting out the fire with ibuprofen, we'd do well to pay close attention to the signals and ask, "What are you trying to tell me?"
Sunday, August 20, 2017
My Person
"These are my people."
"He's my person."
During the last few years, I've said, and heard said, statements like these. What we mean when we claim people as ours may be: This is my tribe. These are the people who share my core beliefs, my politics, my values, maybe a similar history. These are the people with whom I can be real, who--even if we are separated by time or geography--will pick up right where we left off next time we're together. We belong to the same tribe, and we usually feel a sense of recognition when we meet.
What we mean when we claim one person as belonging to us may be: This is the person in the world who most gets me--and vice versa. This is my best friend, my beloved, my soulmate, my most trusted confidante, the one person I "can call at three in the morning." Most people desire to be and have one person to count on, someone with whom we can reveal our deepest longings, secrets, opinions, weird habits, and terrors.
Anais Nin was a prolific diarist. In one of her diaries, written in the early 1930s, she wrote: “Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.” Likewise, when the friend who is a "world in us" goes away, for whatever reasons, a part of the world we counted on vanishes with them. Among other things, we miss who we were with that person.
Romantic and religious songs through the ages reflect the longing for friendship and love, however we define those:
My one and only love....
You light up my life....
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine....
He walks with me and he talks with me, and he tells me I am his own....
I will follow him....
Wherever he leads I'll go....
My World is Empty Without You....
In 1965, the Righteous Brothers sang "Unchained Melody" to audiences of screaming teenaged fans. How many of us fell in love to this song, danced to it, believed it, wanted exactly that when we heard it? How many of us married because of it?
In 1990, Ghost came to the big screen, starring Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore. By then, those of us who had fallen in love to "Unchained Melody" 25 year earlier, even if we were no longer true believers, still cried as we watched that unforgettable scene at the potter's wheel.
Set anything to music and it gets permanently embedded. We can hear one bar and can sing along all the way to the end.
In the Baptist churches in which I grew up, people got saved to religious music. To love songs, we got married, followed him, made promises.
Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah" is not a religious song, yet it has all the lifts and falls and harmonies of one, the tone evoking something familiar.
"It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift..."
Whitney Houston's "The Greatest Love of All" is not about love for another person, but "learning to love yourself"--yet it has the feeling and tone of romantic songs.
So who are my people? Everyone reading this for sure.
Who is my one person? Is it myself? Is it the handsome imaginary bearded man who showed up in my dream last night?
I don't have a closing point here, no an answer to those questions. Instead, I'll close with the words of Rainer Maria Rilke, the early-20th-centure poet:
"...I would like to beg you dear Sir, as well as I can, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer."
"He's my person."
During the last few years, I've said, and heard said, statements like these. What we mean when we claim people as ours may be: This is my tribe. These are the people who share my core beliefs, my politics, my values, maybe a similar history. These are the people with whom I can be real, who--even if we are separated by time or geography--will pick up right where we left off next time we're together. We belong to the same tribe, and we usually feel a sense of recognition when we meet.
What we mean when we claim one person as belonging to us may be: This is the person in the world who most gets me--and vice versa. This is my best friend, my beloved, my soulmate, my most trusted confidante, the one person I "can call at three in the morning." Most people desire to be and have one person to count on, someone with whom we can reveal our deepest longings, secrets, opinions, weird habits, and terrors.
Anais Nin was a prolific diarist. In one of her diaries, written in the early 1930s, she wrote: “Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.” Likewise, when the friend who is a "world in us" goes away, for whatever reasons, a part of the world we counted on vanishes with them. Among other things, we miss who we were with that person.
Romantic and religious songs through the ages reflect the longing for friendship and love, however we define those:
My one and only love....
You light up my life....
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine....
He walks with me and he talks with me, and he tells me I am his own....
I will follow him....
Wherever he leads I'll go....
My World is Empty Without You....
In 1965, the Righteous Brothers sang "Unchained Melody" to audiences of screaming teenaged fans. How many of us fell in love to this song, danced to it, believed it, wanted exactly that when we heard it? How many of us married because of it?
In 1990, Ghost came to the big screen, starring Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore. By then, those of us who had fallen in love to "Unchained Melody" 25 year earlier, even if we were no longer true believers, still cried as we watched that unforgettable scene at the potter's wheel.
Set anything to music and it gets permanently embedded. We can hear one bar and can sing along all the way to the end.
In the Baptist churches in which I grew up, people got saved to religious music. To love songs, we got married, followed him, made promises.
Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah" is not a religious song, yet it has all the lifts and falls and harmonies of one, the tone evoking something familiar.
"It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift..."
Whitney Houston's "The Greatest Love of All" is not about love for another person, but "learning to love yourself"--yet it has the feeling and tone of romantic songs.
So who are my people? Everyone reading this for sure.
Who is my one person? Is it myself? Is it the handsome imaginary bearded man who showed up in my dream last night?
I don't have a closing point here, no an answer to those questions. Instead, I'll close with the words of Rainer Maria Rilke, the early-20th-centure poet:
"...I would like to beg you dear Sir, as well as I can, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer."
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